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Post by Rarity on Dec 16, 2009 18:57:08 GMT -5
*This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.* KellryiaWhen Lillian Kerr wakes up in a world she thinks doesn't exist, she automatically believes she is dreaming. But after several days in this world, she begins to question her reasoning.
After a chance meeting with a mysterious man, The Bard, he offers to become her partner in crime as they run across the continent, trying to escape the forces that know her secret - that she's not from their world.
But when Lillian thinks she knows how to get home, the only thing from stopping her from returning is The Bard. Chapter 1I’m dead. There was no way I could have survived. I was lying down, unable to move, inside in what appeared to be a church, people standing over me. Yeah, I’m totally dead. The last thing I could remember was falling. Falling forever, screaming, and waiting to finally hit the bottom of the earth. I had gone hiking with my boyfriend’s family in Cleveland for Thanksgiving. To my surprise, Cleveland was a hilly area with plenty of rocky areas. Having gone hiking with them before, I expected to be taking the same paths, but then I remembered we were in a different area of Cleveland, in Peninsula. The park was a couple miles down the road, and the eight of us got in two of our cars. Why we couldn’t walk there since the point of this trip was to hike, I didn’t get. As we approached our destination further down Kendal Park Road, I recognized it as Cuyahoga Valley National Park, the same we’d gone to for the family reunion in the summer, where we used the Octagon as our meeting place. Today, we took the same way, parking near the Octagon. Having lots of carbs to burn from Thanksgiving dinner, I took the front of the pack, walking with the only person that knew the trails. Occasionally I would look back to find my boyfriend five feet behind me, and I would try to coax him forward. I guess saying “You’re slow” wasn’t too productive. When I’d gone back for him, taking his hand, I practically had to pull him up the hills. The path narrowed and I moved in front of him, stepping over roots and hopping from rock to rock. Though the day was chilly, I had unzipped my jacket and untied my scarf, growing warm from the exertion. The hills were covered in decaying leaves, which were remarkably not covering the trail. Another group of hikers approached us in the distance. So other people were as crazy as us and went on a hike after Thanksgiving. This was oddly comforting. Soon the trail led us along towering slabs of limestone, in colors I didn’t expect, like orange and yellow. The trees lined the edge of the cliff, precariously in some cases. How any plants grew on top of the rock, I wouldn’t ever figure out, but apparently it was possible. We must have been becoming very bored, because some of us were seeing animals in the shapes of the roots that were trying to embed themselves alongside the limestone. I humored them, and agreed that it looked like a dinosaur. My boyfriend, Ethan, however, wasn’t enjoying the hike. “Hey Frank, how much longer are we going to be out here, I want to watch the game.” Of the ten or so years that I had been with Ethan, I learned that football was top priority. “Just a bit longer, there’s a cave around here somewhere that I want to see.” I heard Ethan mumble something about the unimportance of this cave we were hiking to. It was surprising to me how adamantly he wanted to skip out on seeing the cave. “Ethan, the game doesn’t start for another hour, we’ll be back in time, don’t worry.” “Lillian, you don’t know Frank. He’ll be checking out that cave for at least a half hour. It’s just a cave and he’ll think it’s one of the wonders of the world.” “Alright, we’ll say something if he takes too long, okay?” I personally didn’t care about seeing the football game, but I didn’t want Ethan to get more upset than he already was. We soon came to a large cave, and talk began of testing the temperature inside, to see if was warmer or colder. I knew it would be warmer inside, since it was chilly outside, but again, I humored them, and I also wanted to warm my runny nose. It was damp and quiet inside, the rock surrounding us. I noted that this would be good shelter if we were Neanderthals. Another uncle said, “Hey, I remember this path,” gesturing to the back of the cave where there was an opening. “I can’t remember how far back it goes, and it’s too dark to see. You’d probably need to be a child to be able to fit through here.” Several eyes made their way towards me, the shortest of the group. Ethan’s family was a tall bunch, a trait Ethan did not inherit. But I guess with my waist being smaller than his, they immediately went to me. “Sure, I’ll do it,” I said and stepped toward the crack in the cave. “No, Lillian, don’t go in there,” said Ethan, his hand gripping my arm. “Why not?” I pulled against him, annoyed. “Just don’t.” He barely even spoke to me this whole trip and now he was forbidding me to go inside the opening? “We need to head back so I don’t miss the coin toss.” I found his family staring at me, wondering what I’d do next. Turning to Ethan I glared at him and pulled my arm. “Let go of me,” I growled. Letting go of my arm, he said roughly, “You stay close, you hear?” “Fine,” I spat. I didn’t know what his problem was, but I was going into that opening. Somewhere along the way, he’d started treating me like a child and I was beginning to hate him for it. Knowing that no one had the foresight to bring a flashlight on a hiking trip, I pulled out my cell phone; it had a decently sized screen and would cast some light. As I squeezed myself through the opening and side-stepped down the path, I wondered if there were bats inside. “Looks like it goes back pretty far,” I called. So far I’d gone back about ten feet and I couldn’t see an end. “Can you keep going?” asked Frank. Calling back, “Yeah, sure,” I continued to move deeper into the cave. The path in the rock was only about two feet wide and six feet tall. I probably should have mentioned my claustrophobia earlier. “Damn it Lillian, come back.” “Ethan, just leave me alone.” As I pondered what his problem was, my foot slipped from under me, and my arms flailed about me, trying to stop my fall. I saw my cell phone falling under me and it shined onto nothing. There were no cavern walls or a floor in sight. The light of the phone went out and then it was complete darkness. My hands scraped along the rock wall, but it was too smooth to find a handhold. I screamed as I flipped over myself, meeting nothing but air, but I didn’t know what good that would do me now, besides letting my family know that I was about to die. It felt like I was floating in outer space. I had no sense of how fast I was falling due to the darkness, but the air around me seemed to move slower. I saw a faint glowing below me, similar to a distant star. Slowly it became colorful and brighter as I fell towards it. After a few more moments I noticed the rotation of it, like a black hole, sucking me towards it. A faint high pitch sound met my ears, growing louder and louder as I was pulled into the swirling light. Pressure surrounded me, compressing my body painfully. My screams of agony mingled with the screeching siren. I prepared myself for death as I was upon being sucked inside the black hole. My bones snapped and my muscled ripped apart with the force of pressure the black hole caused. The resulting pain was nothing I had ever experienced, nothing like my worst cramp. My ears went deaf and the light blinded my eyes. I then wished for a swift death, wanting to end the pain. Now inside a church, I blinked up at the people looking over me. If I had died, why did the faces above me look so relieved? Why were they smiling? And most of all, why didn’t I recognize them? I moved my eyes about the space. The ceilings were arched as old cathedrals were built during the gothic period. The people around me looked like the monks at St. Catherine’s of Mount Sinai we studied in art history class, which was built around 560 A.D. Last time I checked, there wasn’t an order of monks in Cleveland. Where the hell was I? I knew I hadn’t gone back in time, and one thing brought me to that conclusion. One of the monk’s hands passed over me, glowing brightly as he said a short prayer, a symbol I recognized in his hand. But it wasn’t a Roman Cross. At that moment, I knew exactly where I was, because I had imagined it many times before, only it was a lot clearer now. I was in Kellryia. I was on a different plane, a different world altogether. I knew this because I knew the world’s creator, and he was my boyfriend. Kellryia was my boyfriend’s fictitious world he created for a role-playing game where we rolled dice and imagined our characters fighting evil monsters. Kellryia was a world that was similar to the medieval period in regards to government, dress, and technology, but there were the rare few that had the special talent to alter their surroundings, cure the sick and injured, and conversely, destroy anything they wished. There were wars amongst gods and humans, against each other and amongst themselves. Besides humans, there were also elves, gnomes, dwarves, and all sorts of monsters. I mentally laughed that I would be dreaming of Kellryia as if I was a part of it, and it wasn’t as one of my characters I had made, I was me. “Alton’s light shines brightly on you, Miss,” said a monk, known as a priest in this world, with thinning hair and a round face. I smiled at the priest of Alton, familiar with the god. In fact, Alton was my favorite deity of Kellryia. God of protection and good, he was one of the three original deities of Kellryia. Alton’s symbol that lay in the priest’s hand was a crescent moon inside a sun that surrounded the silhouette of a mace. “What happened to me?” I asked. I had a pretty good idea of what happened, that I had fell into a portal of some kind, but I wanted to know what they knew. “A traveling merchant passing through the Dragontail Mountains found you barely alive at the base of a cliff.” When I tried to move, he stayed me with his hand. “Many of your bones were broken, you should rest.” I noted that there were no casts on my limbs, as there would be in my world. Healing magic was powerful here. “Thank you,” I said with a sigh. From what information I gathered so far, I fell until I landed into Kellryia. That made loads of sense. Hopefully I would wake from this stupid dream soon. “Priestess Ella will tend to you now.” The priests left to go upstairs. ELLA? I knew Ella! I created her in Ethan’s game, and she was my favorite character of all time. And now I was about to meet her. A cleric of Alton, Ella was good, pure, brave, and beautiful. She accomplished many good deeds and expanded the current cathedral I was laying in with her personal earnings. The original Alton church was merely a small temple consisting of one room made of wood. With Ella’s donations, the church was expanded and became worthy of calling a cathedral, adding a second floor where worshipers could rest and personal quarters for Ella and her family. The stone building also was befitted with bell towers and stain glass windows. The cathedral of Alton was the finest church in the country of Aldien. It was amazing to see it for the very first time, it was better than I imagined. Ella approached and smiled down at me, her dark curls hanging over her shoulder while her green eyes sparkled. Radiating purity, she said, “Hello, my name is Ella Martin, and you are?” I somehow managed to say, “Lillian Kerr.” “Nice to meet you, Lillian.” Her eyes shifted away from me for a moment, as if she heard something from across the room. “Where are you from? I’ve not seen you about Aldenshire.” Well that at least explained where I currently was. Aldenshire was a good sized town east of the Dragontail Mountains, north of the Orc Badlands, and in a country where it was a rarity if there wasn’t snow on the ground. I said the first thing I could think of. “I’m from Gothway.” Gothway was a nearby town that might explain my presence in Aldenshire. Her eyebrow raised, clear that she didn’t believe me. “Why were you found on the pass through the Dragontail Mountains?” I knew this pass was dangerous, and that I would not have chosen to take it if I had the chance. I decided to be honest. “I don’t know.” This seemed to frustrate her more and her eyes narrowed. “When I return, I expect some answers.” Ella turned and walked upstairs. Oh, hell. This was not like the Ella I created. For all I knew she could be retrieving some torturing device. I had to get out of here before she returned. There wasn’t any way that I could tell her the truth about where I came from. Thankfully the first floor of the cathedral was empty. I gently rose from my pallet with a slight groan and hobbled to the front door. I struggled opening it. Why did they have to make them so humungous? With one last pull, using my whole body weight, the door opened. I immediately noticed the difficulties in my escape. One was the snow, because my tracks would be clearly visible, and the other was my appearance. I was wearing jeans and a water resistant winter coat, made of fabrics that didn’t exist. That, I would fix later. If someone asked, I would say the Silver Elves invented it, since they were progressive. Closing the door behind me, I nodded courteously to the guards standing outside the cathedral. Ella’s guards. Great. I needed to get out of their sight, and fast. I briefly noted the thatched roof cottages that were three stories tall, and were of half-timber construction, like in the Tudor period. This is what studying architecture got me, being able to identify what period things were from, and apparently it also applied in this world too. Unfortunately, I didn’t know the layout of Aldenshire whatsoever. So, I just hustled out and blended with the others, going with the flow. I kept my eyes open for a store to buy clothing, and – wait. I couldn’t buy a thing, because I didn’t have gold. Inspecting my other possessions, I had my diamond studded band that Ethan had given me a while ago, and some other sterling silver jewelry. I could trade my coat, but I decided they would become suspicious when they discovered it had a zipper – a thing that did not exist either. Now would be a good time to wake up, I thought. Realizing that wasn’t happening, I looked for a jewelry store, or something similar. I searched the marketplace area and decided that I really need to find a nice place to sell my ring. These merchants wouldn’t be able to pay the price I wanted for it. I searched the store names, Jareth’s Sword, The Shield and Forge, Arcania’s Wands, The King’s Jewels – ah, there we go. I took a deep breath before I pushed the door open. The store sparkled and shimmered with all the gems and gold that lined the walls and tables. I walked toward the owner, a gnome. Who else? I laughed. “Good day, Miss,” he greeted. His springy gray hair curled around his face and his blue eyes smiled through his delicate gold-framed glasses. “How may I help you?” “Hello,” I said lamely. I would have to learn how to speak more like them. “I would like to see what you can offer for this.” I showed him the diamond ring. “Hmm,” the gnome said and took the ring into his small hands. “What is this metal? Not platinum, but similar in appearance.” “White gold,” I said. The gnome eyed me, “I’ve never heard of it.” I hastily said, “It’s very new. The Silver Elves combined gold and nickel to make the gold white, and yet it is very strong.” “Hmm, interesting. That aside, the diamonds are quite nicely cut,” he said as he looked through his eyeglass. “And of good color and clarity.” Looking up at me, he said, “I’ll offer…sixty gold.” I knew this was a large sum of money, especially for a peasant. But as I translated the currencies in my head, I knew it was worth more. “Surely the ring is very unique and well crafted. Eighty gold,” I countered. “Yes, I’ll hand that to you, it is unique. Hmm. Seventy gold, then.” I mentally sighed. I didn’t have time to haggle anymore. “Deal.” The gnome smiled, probably out of greed. He stowed the ring away and gathered the coins of gold. He counted out seven stacks of ten coins. “There you are, Miss. Thank you.” I stuffed the coins into several of my pockets, noting that I needed a pouch. “Thank you,” I said, and left the store quickly. Clothing store, clothing store, I needed a clothing store. I hustled down the narrow path lined with stores, again searching the names. The Happy Badger Tavern, Leather and More, The Blue Dragon Inn, The Red Hat Clothiers. Ah ha! I dashed into the store and a bell alerted the owner of my presence. A round figured lady of midlife age came forward from the back room. “Just a moment, sir,” she called over her shoulder. The woman was jittery and high strung. “How can I help you, dear?” “Sorry,” I said. She was obviously busy. “I’d like something a little more in fashion. A dress. Something simple.” “That shouldn’t be any trouble, but I won’t be able to start until tomorrow. I just lost my assistant, died in childbed, poor thing.” “That’s terrible.” It was also not uncommon, even with their healing magic, for a woman to die while giving birth. “Can I help?” I asked without hesitation. I did have some experience with sewing, although it was with cut out patterns and a sewing machine. She looked at me carefully, seeing my fine clothes, clean hair and skin, and my well fed form. “A lady, such as you, surely…” I interrupted her. “I am no lady, Madam.” I thought about how this world would explain it. Being in my mid-twenties and unmarried, a woman in this world in my situation would either made me a spinster or a widow. I went with the latter option. “I am widowed, and have no means to live.” Nodding, I could see she understood and that she was too busy to care much about my experience. “Come then, Mrs.…” “Kerr. Lillian Kerr.” I immediately felt relieved when I stepped into the back room. Soon I would have decent clothes, employment, and a place to hide from Ella. I knew she wouldn’t let me go so easily. She knew there was something wrong about me being here, and she would be determined to find out. “I am Mrs. Salisbury, nice to meet you. We’ll discuss the particulars later.” I followed the woman to find a man standing in front of a mirror, dressed in a long jacket of red velvet and high black boots. His long platinum blond hair spilled over the collar and down his back. The energy in the room changed abruptly as he stiffened and slowly turned towards me. “Madam Salisbury, who is this lovely creature?” The man smiled as he bore his eyes into me, and I had a hard time meeting his gaze. From what I did see, his face was flawless. “This is Mrs. Lillian Kerr. She is to be my assistant now.” The woman smiled at me. “Is she now?” He looked over me, a peculiar expression on his face. I lowered my head to avoid his eyes. “Mrs. Kerr, kindly start hemming the things on that table there,” said Mrs. Salisbury, turning her attention to the man. I gladly accepted this distraction. I took off my coat, revealing a green form-fitting wool sweater, draped it along the back of the chair, and quickly found a needle and matching thread. As I sat down to begin, I could see out of the corner of my eye that the man still watched me. I concentrated on keeping the stitches small and even, ignoring the man’s stare. There was a ring of the bell from the front of the store, and I heard Mrs. Salisbury swear under her breath as she went to tend to the customer. Great. I was now alone with this man, more uncomfortable than ever. “So, Mrs. Kerr,” he said, smiling, “I couldn’t help but overhear your circumstances.” When I didn’t respond, he continued, “You don’t have the hands of a peasant.” “Before the loss of my husband, I was privileged,” I said truthfully, continuing sewing. Ethan and I had been together for so long, we were practically married. He’d just never gotten to proposing. As for the privileged part, in comparison to people in this world, I was. I tried not to linger on the thought that this world didn’t have showers, internet, or pizza. “I see,” he said. “Still, you would be better off to marry again than to work your fingers to the bone.” I jerked my head towards him, annoyed, “Are you offering?” This seemed to amuse him. “I’m not the marrying kind, unfortunately. Though, the idea tempts me.” He smiled, as if enjoying a private joke. As I looked at him, I had trouble looking too closely, as if something about him prevented me doing so. Frustrated, my eyes rested on the outer edges of him. “I’ll do what I must. And like you, I have no interest in marrying.” In the blink of my eyes, he disappeared from where he stood. I heard his laugh close to my ear. Jumping out of my chair, I turned toward him aggressively. Taking my hands in his grasp, he laughed. “You are very amusing to me, and peculiar. I might have to visit again soon.” His hands warmed my frozen ones, and for a moment they curled in his hold. It took a great deal of effort as I took my hands out of his and crossed my arms. “If you must, but don’t expect a warm welcome from me.” “You wound me, Madam. Such hostility, and I believe I am undeserving of it.” I dared to glance at him, and I grinned at his exaggerated look of despair. “Good,” I said. “I do believe I’m beginning to enjoy your hostility.” I had a hard time understanding his interest in me. Raising an eyebrow, I asked, “Are you a masochist then? Do you enjoy pain?” “If it were from you, I believe I would.” I noted his flirtations with mixed feelings. If I wasn’t dreaming, I would have turned frigid and ignored him without hesitation. Having been without such attention for so long, it almost felt invigorating to banter with this man. I could still remember Ethan yelling at me to not go down the tunnel, and it upset me. Though in the end he had been right, the way he treated me in recent years was so domineering. “I would do nothing to give you pleasure intentionally.” Grinning, he said, “We’ll see.” “If you don’t mind, I have work to do, Sir…” Turning from him, I waited with too much anticipation of learning his name. “No, you’re not ready for my name yet, darling. I’ll be at The Blue Dragon Inn, if you care to learn it.” “Don’t wait up for me.” I leaned over my work, dismissing him, while I attempted to banish the scenario that played in my head. Laughing once more, he turned and left the room. Mrs. Salisbury returned, a form in her hand. “Another order. I swear, the work never ceases. At least we won’t starve,” she said with a laugh. “I don’t mind,” I said as I smiled up at her. “I like to keep myself occupied.” Especially this evening, I thought. I didn’t want any excuse to visit that man. “Thank the gods you happened upon my shop, Mrs. Kerr. I don’t know what I’d do.” “You are kind to give me employ, Mrs. Salisbury. It seems that we desperately needed each other.” “Yes, indeed. Now, let us discuss your wages.” Walking toward me, she sat at the table. “A great deal of the profits will be going towards paying taxes and upkeep on the shop, and of course there are times where business is more plentiful than others. I can pay you a gold piece per week, and then in certain cases, a bonus will be granted. For instance, our last client spends quite a lot. In fact, I do believe he is our best.” “Indeed,” I said, agreeing easily. “Men of my acquaintance don’t care much for clothing.” Laughing she said, “Oh yes, my husband certainly does not. But some have taste, and some do not. The Bard, he definitely knows what he likes.” After a confused look from me, she continued, “Only those who he wants know his true name. Otherwise, he is commonly called The Bard.”
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Post by Rarity on Jan 22, 2010 16:30:07 GMT -5
Chapter 2
2.
“The Bard”, a mysterious and a bit confusing choice of nickname. I’d never known anyone to hide their real name before. People who did in stories were usually up to no good and were hiding their identity for nefarious reasons.
Bards were folk who traveled frequently, performing to the common people for money. They were charismatic, mischievous, and sometimes deceptive, charming people with their magical songs.
By the way he was dressed, and the fact that he had dubbed himself The Bard, as if he were the only one worth knowing, he was well known and successful.
The sun was setting now, and Mrs. Salisbury had gone home to her husband. Even though she insisted that I take the rest of the night off, I assured her that I wanted to finish stitching this dress first.
Try as I may to ignore it and bury myself with work, the memory of The Bard’s voice and face distracted me. The way he had moved so quickly, I couldn’t attribute that to a trick of my eyes. He had crossed the room within a second, and without making a sound. In this world, being able to teleport short distances wasn’t unheard of, but still, it was rare. Kellryia was naturally imbued with magic and some people could harness these powers, but most could not. As much as going to the inn down the street tempted me, just to sleep in a bed, I didn’t want The Bard getting any ideas. He certainly knew how to get under my skin, and that frustrated me further. Sewing unfortunately didn’t occupy my mind, but there was nothing else available to do.
Lighting a lamp so I wouldn’t keep pricking my fingers, I started to become paranoid. The flame cast shadows on the wall that would occasionally move, and I would think there was something inside moving about. I wouldn’t say I was afraid of the dark, but afraid of the unknown, and being a consistent worrier didn’t help.
In this magical world, I feared that anything could and would happen. That someone could suddenly appear, like The Bard could, and do heaven knows what to me.
I rose to triple check the doors and windows were locked, though it probably wouldn’t do me any good if someone really wanted inside. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest when I confused the reflection in the window for someone else.
Returning to the table, shaken, I returned to sewing, jumping at any sound, no matter how small, fearing the worst, and going to investigate the sound, inevitably finding nothing. Thoughts turned to Ethan and his family, how they and some rescue crew were probably looking for me. I wondered if Ethan would actually be worried, though I was sure he would be. Somewhere deep down he really cared about me, he just had a hard time expressing it, a lot.
I missed him now, more out of routine than anything. Just knowing he was near was enough to comfort me, and now that he wasn’t with me, there was a void. He would be laughing at me, if he was here, at my paranoia, but then he would calm me and tell me there was nothing to be worried about.
Little by little, I would lean further into the table, at first resting my forearms on the edge, then laying my arm along the top, resting my head on my arm. My eyelids became too heavy to hold open any longer, so I rested them for a moment, determined to keep working after a break.
Suddenly I was outside in the snow, everything hazy. The Bard was next to me, whispering things in my ear, his smile shining brilliantly. “Come away with me, I can help you.”
Trusting him, and in his ability to help me, I smiled. “Where will we go?”
Distracted with flirting with me, he didn’t know we were found. “Run,” he said. I turned to see Ella standing with her guards, armed and ready to arrest me. This was more a feeling, rather than being told this.
Never had I ever imagined being afraid of Ella, one of the holiest and most selfless of people. But she looked menacing and determined as she glared at me now. I turned to run, but I was grabbed by her guards, supernaturally fast.
As quickly as I was taken, I was released, The Bard knocking them back with a wave of his hand. I stumbled out of the area and ran as fast as I could, which was comically slow, as if in slow motion. I had no idea where I was running to, but I ran as I was told.
“Attacking the servants of Alton, carrying His authority on the mortal realm, is an attack on Alton himself!” called Ella, clearly shocked that The Bard had interfered.
“Let Him come, and I’ll deal with Him personally,” the Bard taunted.
“Meet Him at the Godlands, and He would happily deal with you there.”
“Ha! This is my realm. Never would I challenge Him to a fight on His. It’s not like He’s never embodied a human before, and in essence, interfered with human life. What a hypocrite! He can break the rules, and I can’t?”
Ella pressed on. “The girl knows too much, we will take her into our custody.”
“We’ll see about that.”
The Bard unexpectedly appeared, and ran along side me. “She’ll never stop hunting you.”
I realized he shouldn’t know about my encounter with Ella that occurred earlier. “How do you know so much about me?”
Smiling he said, “I know everything concerning your fate, Lillian.”
***
I woke with a pain in my neck and my back aching. The sun was shining through the windows and into my eyes, blinding me temporarily. Shielding the light with my hand, I saw that the room was exactly the way I left it the night before. I was still in the back room of The Red Hat.
I was startled as the figure of Mrs. Salisbury walked into the room. “My goodness child, did you fall asleep here last night?”
Giving her a pathetic smile, I nodded and combed my hair with my fingers, still disconcerted from my dream.
“Oh dear, you certainly got a lot of work done,” she smiled at me. “It would appear that I’ll be able to start your dress presently.”
“That would be great,” I said, regretting I couldn’t sound more enthusiastic so early in the morning.
“Here, let me show you some sketches, and you can decide the style.” She quickly fetched a leather bound book and flipped the pages. “You’ll want one that laces in the front.” Glancing over at me, she added, “And some undergarments. I’ll have you work on those today. I have some patterns you can use, ‘tis very simple.”
Going through the book, I decided on a front-laced dress with a square neckline and long sleeves. “I like this one here,” I said.
“Very good, now come choose a fabric.” She led me over to her stacked bolts of a variety of colored and quality of fabrics. The silks, velvets, satins and damasks I ignored, looking for a practical and durable fabric for everyday wear. My hand fell on a very nice bolt of wool that was solid navy blue that I thought would do well in the cold weather. “A fine choice, I should have this done by midday, I’ll get you the patterns and fabric for your underclothes.”
My fingers I realized were disinclined to work properly due to overwork yesterday, but I managed to make them cooperate. I had just finished cutting out the fabric when my stomach grumbled loud enough for the whole of Aldenshire to hear.
“Was that you, Mrs. Kerr?” she asked, amusement in her voice.
I couldn’t help but laugh, “Yes.”
“You may go fetch some food from the tavern across the way.”
Glancing at my current attire, I grimaced. “I’d prefer to keep working, Mrs. Salisbury.”
“If you insist. As I haven’t eaten either, I think I’ll go get us something. You’ll be alright without me?”
I nodded, “Yes, I can handle the store while you’re gone.”
I began pinning the pieces of fabric together to be sewn as Mrs. Salisbury left, the bell ringing as she closed the door behind her. The chemise and drawers were basic and unembellished, which suited me fine. No one was going to see my underwear anyway.
The bell rang as the front door was opened again, too soon. Mrs. Salisbury may have forgotten something perhaps. The footsteps were slow and light as they progressed towards the back of the store. They were steady, as if they had no intention of stopping. My suspicions were verified as I turned to see the man I met yesterday, smiling down on me.
“Good morning, Lillian.” “Mrs. Kerr,” I corrected. I didn’t like the pleasure he gained by saying my name.
He ignored me. “What are we making this morning?”
Of course I would be working on underwear the day he chose to visit again. His face appeared innocent, but he knew very well what I was sewing. I childishly put them under another pile of clothes I had hemmed yesterday and said, “They are lady’s undergarments, and it is inappropriate for you to see them.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before, but if you must.”
I realized I hadn’t anything to occupy myself with now and immediately regretted my decision to hide them away. The way he looked as if he was resisting laughing, perhaps I had saved myself from further discussion of underwear. Same as yesterday, I had a hard time looking in his direction for too long, though I wanted to inspect him further.
He slowly strode around the table until he was before me and stood completely still. I met his eyes and they were locked with his for a moment. It was the longest amount of time I had ever had the chance to gaze upon him. My heart would have normally hammered in my chest, but again his presence was soothing and hypnotic. His eyes were bright and golden as they smiled.
My eyes moved to his lips as he said, “Take as long as you desire.” It startled me to learn that he knew I wanted to look at him. Was my face that readable? “’Tis normal to be confused. You’ll understand soon enough. But before I explain, I want you to answer a question for me.”
Curiosity alone made me say, “Alright.”
Bluntly, he asked, “Do you want my help?” Confused was right, he was confusing me more and more. “Help? With what?”
He grinned at my ignorance, and then in a flash he was beside me whispering in my ear. “You had a dream last night, yes?”
Curiosity wanted to ask how he knew about the details of my dream, but I didn’t want to be confused further. Instead, I nodded my head, understanding what he meant now. Slowly, I turned my head finding his face inches from mine. Distracted by the flawless beauty of his features, I forgot what we were talking about.
“Do you want my help?” he asked again.
Any help at all I would do almost anything for. Key word, almost. “What’s the catch?”
Laughing, he leaned in close to me. “I’m sure I’ll think of some way for you to repay me, but do you really want to waste time bartering?”
I couldn’t know which option was worse, so I had to take my chances with this personified perfection who was willing to help me.
“Yes, I want your help.”
“I’ll explain it tonight, I’ll be at the Blue Dragon Inn.” His lips tickled my ear as he whispered into it, “Farewell, my dear.”
He was gone before the bell rang of the front door opening, his missing presence leaving me shaken. I didn’t know what he wanted from me, but I assumed the worst, and hoped for the best. Trying not to think too much about how much he knew about me and how he knew it, I gathered the hidden undergarments. So much for no one ever seeing them.
Mrs. Salisbury returned with food, but I was too distracted to note what it was that I began to eat. Hopefully Mrs. Salisbury attributed my silence to the early hour.
Memories of last night’s dream played over and over in my mind. The Bard had told me to run from Ella and run I would. With his help, hopefully she would never catch up.
After pricking my fingers several times, I managed to finish the chemise and drawers. Mrs. Salisbury had enough finished for me to try it on, so I donned the newly made underwear and dress. The undergarments were suitable enough and the dress was nearly perfect.
“You look lovely, dear. I’ll just take this in a bit and it’ll be ready to wear.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Salisbury.” She was doing me a huge favor, and I didn’t know how to repay her.
“No trouble, child. ‘Twill be good to see you in proper clothes.”
My appearance had to have looked out of place, as if I were wearing men’s clothing. Looking proper would allow me to blend in more, hopefully escaping detection, and I would look normal.
“Yes, I’ll be glad of it too. I’m planning to see The Bard at the inn tonight.”
“You may leave a little early, since you worked so hard yesterday.”
Smiling, I said, “Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”
Mrs. Salisbury finished my dress while I continued with finishing other items. Before I knew it the sun was falling and I hurried to put on my new clothes. My boots were clunky and were thankfully hidden by the skirts of the dress. Mrs. Salisbury braided my shoulder-length brown hair and tied it with a ribbon of a matching navy blue, and I was finally presentable.
“It would do you some good to sleep in a bed tonight, Mrs. Kerr.”
“I’ll see that I do, Mrs. Salisbury.” And nowhere near The Bard, I added mentally. “See you tomorrow.”
Stepping out of the store, the wind swept my skirts against my legs. Thankfully they were long and heavy enough to not get blown upward to expose my drawers. The snow had been packed into the earth with the heavy foot traffic, so I didn’t have much trouble making it to the inn down the street.
The Blue Dragon Inn was a wooden building with glass windows, a sign that this was a fancy establishment. As I opened the door, the warmth of the fireplace blew over me and I quickly shut out the cold. There were a few people inside, an employee stood behind his counter, the registration book in front of him, and some other humans that were sitting in the common room in front of the fire. I admired the artwork on the walls, oil landscapes with dragons as the main subject, some blue, some copper.
Dragons were magnificent creatures, though rare. Depending on their color they were prone to have a certain disposition. Copper Dragons were my favorite, they were both beautiful and good natured. Some colors I knew that were likely to kill were red and black, the red using fire and the black using poison.
The man behind the counter greeted me. “Good afternoon, madam. May I assist you?”
Approaching the counter I said, my voice wavering a bit, “Yes, um, I’m here to see the Bard.”
“Your name, please?”
“My name?”
“Yes, madam, for security measures.”
What kind of place was this inn? The Hilton? Agreeing to his stupid rules, I gave him my name. “I’m Mrs. Lillian Kerr.”
“Yes, he is expecting you.” Waving his hand, there was a faint noise from the room behind him and a young man emerged. Turning to him, he added, “Please take Mrs. Kerr to the Dragon’s Lair.”
If there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was themes. Seriously? The Dragon’s Lair? Why was it so difficult to number the rooms? The name of this room disturbed me, like this place was some sort of deviant whore house.
Attempting to control my hesitation, I followed the young man up the stairs and to the end of the hall. Thankfully the outside of the door looked normal. My escort knocked on the door in an odd pattern, as if it were code, and a voice sounded from the other side. Murmuring a few words, the man waved his hand a bit and opened the door, his hand never on the handle.
As I walked through the threshold, I saw a pair of wingback armchairs before the fireplace, upholstered in grey velvet. The carpet beneath them was a subtle pattern of blues that contrasted the oak flooring nicely. There was also an adjoining room and part of the room separated by a paneled changing screen for privacy. Since the curtains were drawn, the light was low, and I almost didn’t see the Bard as he emerged from behind the screen.
“Good afternoon Lillian,” he said cheerfully. “I’m so glad you decided to come.” Smiling broadly, he approached me and took my hands in his.
“Mrs. Kerr,” I corrected him as I rudely withdrew my hands.
Clearly seeing my unpleasant reaction, he said, “Mrs. Kerr, yes of course. Please, sit.” His arm arched out towards the chairs before the fire.
Taking a seat, I asked, “Would you explain how you know that I’m hiding from Ella?”
A surprised look crossed his face and he sat opposite me. “I am very well, thank you for asking, and you?” He grinned as he saw that his sarcasm wasn’t found humorous.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. He did have a point, my manners were severely lacking. “I’m sorry, I’m not usually this stressed.”
“Yes, I can’t imagine anyone so tense for long. I won’t ask you about it, I know you won’t tell me why.”
My body froze. Him knowing that I couldn’t tell him the truth about my circumstances only made me more stressed.
Chuckling, he added, “I wouldn’t tell a complete stranger either, I’m not offended.” Folding his hands, he continued, “It is best if I not tell you how I know about Ella, it’ll only put more strain on you.”
I nodded, agreeing that he was probably right. “Okay, another question then. How are you going to help?”
“I’m going to help you help yourself, if you’ll allow me to.”
Not understanding what he meant exactly by this, I said, “Help myself how?”
“That will come with time, but let us play a game.” Reaching into a small bag at his waist, he withdrew what appeared to be a neck of a string instrument. He extended his hand until a whole lute emerged from the pouch, an extra dimensional bag that could hold more than it appeared it should. Holding the lute in his lap, he plucked the strings for a moment and made adjustments to the tautness.
“A game?” I asked, wondering how this was going to help me.
He began to play a cheerful upbeat song, one good for dances. His fingers were precise and skillful, but occasionally there was a note that sounded wrong. As I watched more closely, I realized it was the same string every time. He finished the song and looked to me expectantly.
“Are you sure you tuned that?”
Smiling, he said, “Good ears, excellent.”
“Excellent?”
“Yes, now, what exactly was the problem?”
“Why are you asking me?” A musician of his experience surely would know what the problem was. “Are you testing me or something?”
“Doesn’t take you long to catch on,” he said, chuckling.
Sighing, I asked myself why he would be testing my musical talent, but I was sure he had a good reason. It was looking like he wanted to teach me something, and I was always one who loved to learn new things. Leaning forward I pointed out the string that was out of tune. “This one.”
“Correct, was it flat or sharp?”
Now I figured he was testing my knowledge of the terminology. Flat was if the note was low, sharp if it was high. The string was too low. “Flat.”
“Good, so you have been trained in music already?”
I had been in choir and band in high school, so I had a solid foundation. “Yes, but I haven’t practiced in several years.”
“Sing me something.”
My voice was nothing special, and I knew it. Whatever he was expecting to hear, it wouldn’t be anything close to it. Nervous, I tried to convince him that I wasn’t very good. “I haven’t sung in a while, and my voice is mediocre. I don’t think-”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
Looking at him, as much as I could without looking away, I could see that he was going to be persistent about this. We could sit here all evening and he would still want me to sing him something. I mentally flipped through all the songs that I knew, trying to find one that would be a good choice for my voice, one that would be complex enough to show him my range. Songs from Les Miserables captured my interest, though they were difficult to sing, I wanted to try “I Dreamed a Dream”.
I stood and walked to the window, opening the curtain to look out. The sun was beginning to set and cast a orange glow on the people walking outside. Looking over my shoulder, I saw that he was expectantly waiting. I took a deep breath and tried not to tremble. Singing in front of others was something I never really got comfortable doing. I turned to the window and pretended he wasn’t there.
The song was a ballad, starting low and used one constant note for several measures. It would be an easy start, a way to test my voice. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.
“There was a time, when men were kind And their voices were soft And their words were inviting There was a time, when love was blind And the world was a song And the song was exciting There was a time it all went wrong”
The next part of the song became mildly more difficult, using some dips and jumps, but the same phrase of notes were repeated.
“I dreamed a dream in time gone by When hope was high and life worth living I dreamed that love would never die I dreamed that God would be forgiving”
My voice was stronger than I remembered it, not weak and quiet as it used to be. It was like there was someone else singing. Filled with confidence, I continued the next several measures, the same as the previous.
“Then I was young and unafraid And dreams were made and used and wasted There was no ransom to be paid No song unsung, no wine untasted”
I was pleased with how I was doing so far, but I was to the difficult part now, full of accidentals, notes that were not part of the original key. This section would also test my lower range, something I was not strong in, as well as my higher range, with a crescendo at the end as it scaled upward.
“But the tigers come at night With their voices soft as thunder As they turn your hope apart As they turn your dreams to shame”
Amazingly, I managed to hold the note with the power that was close to an opera singer. I repeated the following phrases the same as the first, not worrying about screwing up the song anymore, focusing on the emotion of the song.
“He slept a summer by my side He filled my dreams with endless wonder He took my childhood in his stride But he was gone when autumn came”
Continuing through the key change with no problem, I sang with more passion and command than I knew I had.
“And still I dream he'd come to me That we would live the years together But there are dreams that cannot be And there are storms we cannot weather
I had a dream my life would be So different from the hell I'm living So different now from what it seemed Now life has killed the dream I dreamed”
Ending the song, quiet as the beginning, I whispered the last phrase as an uncontrollable melancholy washed over me, the words hitting home. I thought of Ethan, how I’d wanted to be happy with him, how I’d dreamt of having my life with him, but things don’t always worked out the way you want.
I bowed my head, trying to keep the tears from falling, avoiding the Bard. Glancing to the door, I sought escape, and moved toward it. The Bard was standing in front of the door before I even took a step.
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Post by Rarity on Jan 25, 2010 16:50:06 GMT -5
Chapter 3
The Bard stood before me, an amazed expression on his face. “Why are you crying?”
Swallowing and clearing my throat, I raised my chin. “I’m not crying.”
His response to that was a raised eyebrow. Lifting his hands, palms out, as if to show me he was unarmed, he approached me slowly. Apparently I had turned into a skittish animal, ready to bolt from him, since he was treating me like one.
“What are you doing?”
Stopping mid-step, he said, “Well, usually ladies want a shoulder to lean on when they cry, I was going to offer.”
“I told you, I wasn’t crying,” I said unconvincingly. All I wanted was for him to leave me alone and my reaction seemed to attract him. How annoying.
“Do you want to talk about what you weren’t crying about?”
“No.” Talking about Ethan was not something I wanted to do, especially with this man. What I wanted was to be alone and mope.
Giving up for now, he said, “Very well.” Crossing his arms, he tilted his chin while he looked at me, as if to figure me out. “That’s some mediocre voice you have there.”
“Um, yeah,” I murmured while I stared at the floor, shifting uncomfortably. “Something happened to my voice.” I began to wonder if simply coming to this world, full of magic, was the reason for the change in my voice, because it certainly wasn’t special back home.
“I’ll say so, because that was far from mediocre.” Stepping towards me, his knuckle raised my chin and said one word, “Beautiful.”
I flinched back from his touch, but otherwise accepted the compliment, although, I’d have to start slapping him if he insisted on touching me unnecessarily. “Thanks. So, did I pass your little test?”
He grinned at me, amused. Withdrawing writing material, he scribbled several things down.
“So, um, are you going to explain what the point in this is?”
Looking up, he gave me a short nod. “I’m going to train you.”
“Train me?”
“Yes, it’s clear that you have the makings of a bard. No need to thank me, you’re welcome.”
“What makes you think that I need, or even want training to become a bard?”
He looked truly shocked by my question. “I’m helping you help yourself, as I said earlier. I find that it’s best not to rely on others, when it comes down to it, people look after their own hide.”
“Hmm.” I had to admit, he had a point. If I was going to make it in this world, I needed to know how to defend myself. Bardic training involved learning how to use a weapon, likely a sword, and bear the weight of chain armor, as well as how to cast helpful magic spells, including restoration. Being able to heal my wounds for when I inevitably became injured would be very useful. “Okay,” I agreed.
“Good,” he said, finishing his markings on the parchment. Flipping it over for me to read, I found that I couldn’t read most of what was written.
“You’re going to have to explain this to me, I can’t read…whatever language that is.”
“I expected as much. It’s Draconic, the language of the Dragons, they are the masters of the arcane magic specialty.” Likely noticing my blank stare, he continued on. “Let’s focus on our aura, this is important. Our aura aids our friends nearby, giving them hope and relieves their wounds when they are injured.”
Trying to keep up, I concentrated on every word he said. Feeling confident in my understanding, I nodded. “Okay, how do I create my aura?”
“First, close your eyes.”
Squinting at him suspiciously, I said, “You have to promise not to touch me.”
Laughing, he said, “If you don’t trust me enough to not touch you when your eyes are closed, what worth does my promise hold?”
“Just promise.”
“All right, I promise I won’t touch you. Close your eyes and concentrate.”
What I was concentrating on precisely was lost to me, but I closed my eyes and tried to imagine an aura around me. “Now what?” When he didn’t respond, I opened my eyes to find him staring at me, surprised.
“Amazing.” Reaching into his bag of never-ending space and supply, he withdrew a sword in its sheath, polished and bejeweled, as well as a full set of chain armor. “Here, put this on.”
Whatever was amazing, he didn’t ask me to try to concentrate on my aura anymore. As I took the armor from him, I nearly dropped it, not expecting it to weigh so much. I immediately noticed the problem my attire would pose as I inspected the leg armor pieces, one did not wear a dress and armor together. “You wouldn’t happen to have extra clothes in there too, do you?”
Nodding, he said, “Sure.” He pulled out a pair of brown leather pants and a lace-up white shirt and handed them to me.
“Thanks,” I mumbled. I’d never worn leather pants before, but I was about to find out what it was like. Stepping behind the changing screen, I switched out my clothing. Managing to find where to strap each piece and slipping the chain shirt over me, I picked up the sword and took it from its sheath.
Emerging from behind the screen, I tested the sword, swinging it about. The armor was heavy and uncomfortable, making it difficult to swing the sword. “So, how do I look?”
“Formidable,” he said, his expression one of a suppressed grin. Summoning a sword to his hand, he said, “Come, take a swing at me.”
Looking at the sharp metal blade, I hesitated, “You’re not armored.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he said, standing relaxed, the sword at his side.
Gripping the sword with both hands, I raised the sword above my head and swung in a diagonal downward stroke. My swing was slow and clumsy. His arm parried my attack with lightning speed, so fast that I never saw him move.
“You’ve got the idea, but that’s a one handed sword.”
He had to be joking. This thing weighed a ton and now I had to use it in only one hand? Sighing, I freed my left hand, extending it out a bit for balance. My sword hand gripped the weapon feebly and I had difficulty keeping it straight out.
Approaching me, he held the sword for a moment. “Move your hand further up the hilt, to the center of its balance. You will have better control of it there.”
Moving my hand, I recognized the improvement and was able to keep the sword level.
Returning to his previous spot, he said, “Try a thrust, keep the blade horizontal and step into it. Aim for my chest.”
Doing as he instructed, the tip of the sword more or less went towards his chest, but his sword came across and pushed mine out of the way. “Good. Did you see how to counter that kind of attack? Tilt the sword a bit vertically and swing horizontally, either leftward or rightward, depending on your opponent’s aim.” Extending his sword, the point aiming for my chest, his knees bent and his side faced me. He said, “Here, try to deflect my sword. Pretend that this is about to pierce you in the heart.”
Raising my sword, I tilted the tip so that it pointed to his head, making the sword perpendicular to his and swung my arm in a horizontal arc. Metal clanged and his sword was redirected.
“Always aim at your opponent, not his sword. Deflect his attack, but then counter it by following up with another swing of your own. Again, but this time deflect my sword and then follow through, pushing my sword down and cut my leg with your sword.” He returned to his previous position, his sword pointed at my chest, his other arm behind his back.
I mimicked his posture, hooking my arm back and engaged him. Knocking his sword away, I arched my sword downward to slice his leg. He allowed my sword to make contact, but there was not enough force behind my swing to cause any damage. We both smiled at my progress.
“The most common injuries are caused to the limbs, since they are easy targets. This is why we keep our offhand behind our back until we have use for it. A wand will be in your left hand to aid in the casting of your spells, but we’ll get to that later.”
Nodding, I exhaled heavily. “It is a lot to learn.”
“Yes, it is. But these techniques you are likely to forget once you actually need to use them in battle. Your reflexes will be what saves you.” Suddenly, he raised his sword over his head and swung downward toward my shoulder.
Reacting quickly, my arm came up to parry his attack and I pressed his sword away to the side. “What are you trying to do, kill me?”
Barking a laugh, he said, “If I were trying to do that, you wouldn’t have been able to ask.”
Belatedly I realized that my heart was pounding in my chest, the veins in my limbs tingling with the pumping blood. On edge, I started to ramble. “You could have aimed somewhere else other than my neck for Christ’s sake!” Too late I noticed he would not know who this Christ person was that I was speaking of.
He furrowed his brow in confusion at the expression I had accidentally used. “I assume that is someone of importance in your world?”
I nearly choked on my own spit. How could he know about my world? Looking away from him, I said, “Hmm?”
He was not convinced. “You don’t need to play me for the fool, I know all about you.”
Turning around, I went to sheath the sword. “Oh, and what’s that?”
Following me to the other side of the room, he said, “You arrived yesterday, as you were meant to, just as you were meant to happen upon me in the store.”
Swirling around to face him, I snapped, “I wasn’t meant to come here at all, I fell by accident and the next thing I know wake up in Ella’s church.”
“You don’t believe in fate then, I see. I should probably tell you, everything happens for a reason.”
“Alright, so what possible reason could there be for me to land into this world?”
He grinned. “Sorry, can’t tell you that.”
Making an agitated growling noise, I moved to take the armor off.
Taking another step towards me, he said, “What I can tell you is that you needed to come here, for yourself.”
Glaring up at him, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“You will gain many life experiences here, a sort of personal journey.”
“Look, I don’t want any of this, I want to go back, okay? So stop telling me that I’m supposed to be here and that I’m on a journey.”
“And how do you think you are to get back, hmm?”
For a few moments I just stared at him, wondering what the answer to that question was. “Do you know?”
He made a great display of inspecting his fingernails. “I might, but I can’t say.”
At this point I wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming out of my ears. “Alright, Bard, I don’t know how you’re able to predict the future and all that, but you’re really starting to annoy me with your ‘I know stuff, but can’t tell you’ crap. I thought you said you were going to help me.”
Finding my rant humorous, he laughed for a moment before containing himself. “Patience is a virtue, my dear. All in due time.”
Sighing, I counted to ten and took a deep breath. “Okay, sorry I yelled.”
“Don’t worry about it, I had a good laugh. Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve laughed that much in quite some time.”
Suppressing another evil stare, I said, “You’re welcome, I guess. Glad you enjoyed yourself.”
Grinning, he helped lift the heavy chain shirt from my shoulders. Having swung around a five pound sword for so long, my arm was practically unable to move. The Bard bid me to practice on my own and to consider the sword and armor as gifts. Tomorrow we would continue my training after my day of work with Mrs. Salisbury.
Leaving his room after changing back into my dress, he escorted me downstairs and we shared a meal together in silence. After our disagreement I wasn’t inclined to speak to him if I didn’t have to. Unfortunately, this didn’t keep him from staring at me. Coincidentally my food became very important and I spent the whole time picking at it.
The other guests nearby recognized the Bard and chanted for him to sing them a song. He smiled courteously and obliged them, standing before the fire and singing one of the most beautiful ballads I ever heard. It was if he were on a stage on Broadway and this was his shining moment in the musical. His voice was rich and bright, singing with passion.
As much as this man annoyed me whenever he spoke, I had to concede that he was excellent at his day job. It was no surprise to me now that everyone in the inn was a huge fan and that he was probably widely popular wherever he went.
The training he was putting me through was also very good. He clearly knew what he was doing when it came to fighting and he knew how to teach me in a way that I could understand. I’d never been much of an athlete, but I was confident that I could learn to swordfight.
As the Bard launched into a more upbeat tune, the crowd joined in clapping along with the beat. I joined with the others, enjoying myself. From another table I saw a dwarf rise from his seat and make his way over to me. He had a very long red beard braided into two plaits, his hair styled in a similar fashion that reminded me of a Viking. Ice blue eyes twinkled at me, the only female in the room.
“Would ye like ta dance, lass?”
As per usual, I came up with some excuse to save myself embarrassment. “I don’t know how to dance.”
“Neither do I, so we can look like fools together, eh?” Confident that I would consent, he extended his hand.
Laughing, I took his square-shaped hand and stood, which happened to be about a whole foot taller than him. “My name’s Lillian, by the way.”
“Baern’s me name.” Guiding me to a more open area, he said, “Here we go.”
Smiling, he led me in a dance that reminded me of a Scottish folk dance, consisting of many twirling and hopping. We circled around the open space, skipping along the way. There were no steps to follow, we just danced with the music how it moved us to. The skirt of my dress flowed out around me and hugged my legs as we spun about quickly. We both smiled at each other and I realized this was the most fun I’d had in a long time, acting like a child with a dwarf I’d just met.
Ethan would never dance with me when the occasion would arise, which in itself wouldn’t be often. He was a horrible dancer, we both knew it, but he wouldn’t even make the effort. But here was this dwarf, admitting he didn’t know how to dance, and still wanted to, with a total stranger to boot.
Becoming out of breath, I was glad when the Bard’s song came to an end. Baern and I faced the crowd to receive the audience’s applause with the Bard, our dance a part of the performance as a whole. We took our bows and I looked over my shoulder at the Bard. The most peculiar expression was on his face, and I couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.
Baern caught my attention when he bowed to me and said, “Thank ye, lass. ‘Twas my pleasure.”
Remembering to curtsy, I said, “Indeed, it was fun.”
“Well, perhaps I’ll see ye again, and we can have another dance. Nice to have met you, Miss Lillian.”
“Mrs. Kerr,” sounded the Bard’s voice, interjecting into the conversation as he passed by Baern and me.
Glaring at the Bard’s back before turning back to the dwarf, I said, “Yes, hope to see you again, goodbye Baern.”
Following after the Bard, I found that he was on his way back upstairs. I assumed he didn’t want to be followed since he didn’t ask me to come with, so I stopped by the counter to rent out a room for myself.
Going to my room and preparing for bed, I tried to convince myself that nothing was going to attack me in the dark room. I nervously sung to calm myself, but the insecurity made me too uncomfortable for it to do much good. Unlike Mrs. Salisbury’s store, my door didn’t have a lock. The lock on the Bard’s door had been magical, and since I didn’t know how to create a magical lock, I was out of luck.
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Post by Rarity on Jan 28, 2010 17:21:03 GMT -5
Chapter 7
Jumping back into the carriage, I called, “Come on, let’s go!” I didn’t understand why he was just standing there, waiting for them to come.
“The orcs will chase us, it’s better to stand our ground. I’ll take care of them.”
Tribal and wild, orcs were known for their bloodlust and violence. They even killed each other, even if it was over the smallest of arguments. The orcs that changed us now snarled as they roared, swinging their axes and clubs in the air, and dwarfing the horses they road. Not wanting to witness any slaughter, I urged him further. “There must be over ten of them. There are too many.”
“Twelve, actually. They’re just orcs, they won’t put a scratch on me.”
His confidence was lost on me. I knew that given enough of something, it would be powerful. Swarms and mobs were dangerous.
“Please, get inside, they’ll-” The group was near now, I could see their tusks that jutted upward from their lower incisors, and insanity in their eyes.
In a defensive stance facing their orcs, his eyes focused, he said, “Close the door.”
“Get in!”
As a javelin was hurled towards us, hitting our driver, he kicked the door shut. The frightening sound of the twelve orcs’ battle cry reached my ears mingled with the Bard’s, a metal singer scream.
Common sense was not in high supply as I lifted the corner of the curtain to see if the Bard was all right. He stood about five feet in front of the door, guarding it, as the orcs began to surround him. Brandishing a sword I didn’t know he carried, he parried the oncoming attacks. Some of the attacks grazed him, but it only slashed his clothing. Several more charged toward the door, causing me to grip the seat in fear.
The Bard threw his hand high and a flourish of mist and sparkles rendered him immobile, the orcs took the opportunity to attack. The orcs hacked at the mist and met no resistance as the Bard was not there. In their confusion they glanced around to find the Bard was at their backs, stabbing one and kneeing the other in the groin, sweeping down two orcs in a matter of seconds. Now removed from the melee he focused his magical energy to hurl another orc into the air, flying a hundred yards away.
I saw the Bard begin to cast another spell as he began to glow, and ducked. A shout came from the Bard, something I couldn’t understand, followed by many cries of pain from the orcs. The carriage jolted as more weapons, and dead orcs, hit the outside, breaking the glass windows.
It couldn’t be that they were so inaccurate that they were hitting the carriage instead of the Bard. They’d easily enough taken out our driver. Adrenaline rushed through my veins as I feared they were coming for me.
More windows broke, from the wrong side of the carriage, and I swirled around to see two snarling faces. They were much scarier up close, their eyes bloodshot and spit dripping down their chins.
“Help!” I screamed. Essentially I was trapped, surrounded by orcs on both sides. No amount of hiding could save me now.
The Bard’s furious face met mine for an instant through the ripped curtain before severing the head off of an orc, his blood spurting all over the Bard’s face and clothes.
Large green hands reached into the carriage through the windows, grabbing my arms. Being much weaker than they, the orcs dragged me through broken glass still wedged in the window frame, slicing through my dress and into my chest and abdomen, crying out in agony as the glass broke off the frame. I made the mistake of inspecting my wounds and felt faint from the sight of so much blood.
Another shout from the Bard and the two orcs that had taken me were now punching each other, competitiveness overtaking them. As I scurried away from the two, I was suddenly teleported inside the carriage again, safe for now. I pulled the shards of glass that were lodged deeply in my skin and held my hand to my stomach, trying to slow the bleeding. The pieces were large, about the size of my hand, and blood covered half of the shard. Glancing out the window, the Bard still had about five orcs still wailing their weapons at him, plus the two on the other side of the carriage, temporarily fighting each other.
The Bard’s fury only escalated as the fight progressed and I saw an orc withdraw, but it was too late for him. The Bard snapped his leg up and into the orc’s face, hitting him between the eyes. The orc was reeling for a moment before a quick slash across the ribcage created a relentless red river of blood. The Bard spun around to meet his other aggressors without hesitation, but I didn’t watch what he did next, my eyes fixated on the bloody mess that used to be an orc, in awe of how brutal this ambush was becoming.
Noticing I had disappeared, I assumed, the two orc’s hands again reached into the carriage and pulled me out. I screamed for help again, but the Bard was too distracted to help, five orcs surrounding him. One of the orcs that had taken me jumped onto the back of his horse while the other threw me over the back. I tried to kick at their shins, but they wore leather armor and my attacks had no effect. The orc rider turned the horse and forced it into a gallop, causing even more pain to my stomach. The elbow in my back rendered me unable to jump off the horse, no matter that the sharp point jabbing me in the spine left me paralyzed with pain.
As I lifted my head, I saw the Bard’s rage as he stood barricaded by the orcs that surrounded him. His eyes locked with mine for a moment, and I could see the determination in them. I shouted to him and the orc’s voice above me said, “Shut up, woman,” and the blinding blow to the back of my head knocked me out cold.
***
Rumbling voices made my head ache, which throbbed from the blow. They seemed to be arguing about something a short distance away, leaving me alone for the moment. There was a sharp pain in my abdomen as I took in a breath, though it felt like the wound had stopped bleeding. Blackness met my eyes as I opened them and I started to reach to see if there was a blindfold, but I couldn’t move my hands. Lying uncomfortably on my side, the weight of my body crushed the arm that was awkwardly shoved behind my back, tied to the other arm. As I dragged my head along the cold dry earth, trying to move the object obstructing my vision, my temple met the dirt directly. There was no blindfold.
My eyes blinked rapidly and frantically searched for something to see. I knew orcs could see very well in the dark, maybe they didn’t have any light source. Even if they didn’t have a fire lit, there should still be moonlight, some ability to see.
Knowing there were orcs nearby and I couldn’t see them made me panic. I was a fly in a spider web, unable to move, unable to do anything but scream. Heart beating a mile a minute, I began to almost hyperventilate with the anticipation of death, or worse.
I’d remembered reading a romance novel where the hero had been struck in the back of the head, and he had been blind temporarily. Not knowing whether it was possible or not, I’d believed the author had done some kind of research to know if it was actually possible. I guess it was.
One of the voices drew nearer, having noticed my movements, I figured. He spoke in a gruff and consonant filled language, the words short and terse. Laughter resounded from a distance, which I didn’t find too comforting.
A hand gripped my arm tightly, pulling me up to stand. The slices in my stomach were strained and threatened to break open, the pierced muscles raw and the dry blood cracking, causing me to hiss in pain. A slap to the face greeted me, stinging and bruising my cheek. One of them shouted angrily across the room from me, and the orc’s grip slightly loosened on my arm.
The orc’s lack of hygiene made me want to gag. His breath was hot and foul, as if he’d eaten rotten meat, or more likely, food was rotting in his teeth. Sweat and blood emanated heavily from his skin, but it was tolerable if I turned my head away.
Weakened from my wounds and scared to death, I shook uncontrollably. I hadn’t eaten since morning, and I didn’t know how long I’d been unconscious. My mouth was layered with dirt and the inside felt like I had swallowed some as well. My eyes darted about me, hopelessness trying to see something.
Spitting out what earth I could, I timidly asked, “What do you want with me?” I hoped they could understand that much.
Laughter was my answer, followed by lewd sounds that I couldn’t help but understand. Shuffling feet approached me. “We want you, whore.” More laughter and grunts came from across what I would assume was a room. “And every one of us will have you before morning.”
My capture was in no way related to being a wanted outlander, they captured me out of sport, happening upon me by chance. Unfortunately, they weren’t holding me for ransom, they wanted to use their love of violence on me. “The man I was with will kill you first.”
The orcs laughed, “Kill us? He’s already dead.”
An image popped in my mind, the Bard, the orcs surrounding him, all the blood. I couldn’t actually tell whose blood was whose. Did the Bard suffer a fatal wound? With so little armor on, I imagined it was possible.
There were orcs here left alive to have witnessed the battle. If he had survived their ambush, wouldn’t he have come for me by now? I couldn’t imagine anything but what they claimed, that they had killed him. The Bard had died trying to save me.
When my knees gave out from under me, the orc brutally gripped my arms to keep me standing. More shouting came and what sounded like wrestling and furniture being knocked over reached my ears.
One hand reached into the neck of my dress and ripped it off of me, only the thin chemise and drawers left. Blindly, literally, I kicked, hoping to aim for the groin. I realized too late that they had taken my boots, likely because they were valuable, so the contact I made wasn’t effective.
One of the orc’s hands clamped over my mouth, rank and sweaty. With more freedom to move, I twisted around and brought my knee up. He only chuckled at my feeble attempt. Yelling in a commanding voice, whatever he said made several feet shuffle away.
Ripping my chemise down the middle, he said, “Pretty whore, I get you now.” Without the other orcs here to interrupt, he took the opportunity to continue what he started. Dragging me several feet, he pushed me into something and I half fell onto it. Not having my arms free to brace myself, my chin banged against something hard and wooden, causing me to accidentally clamp down on my tongue.
While I was stunned, I felt his disgusting hand traveling up my leg, reaching towards the waist of my drawers. My skin twitched in revulsion and I tried to kick him in the shin, but it was leather-bound. Tears ran down my face as I realized how close this was to being too late. Spitting out blood and taking a deep breath, I screamed as loud as I could, desperation in my throat, blood pumping loudly in my ears. But there was no one to hear me, but the orcs.
The orc laughed, “No one’s coming for you. You’re mine.”
My heart pounding frantically, I squirmed, trying to flip myself on my back, but the orc leaned over me, using his whole body weight, crushing me until I couldn’t breathe. His hands snatched and pulled at my drawers, pulling them to my knees.
A gurgling came from his throat, as if it had been slashed, and I heard his body fall to the floor. I coughed and wheezed, having the weight removed from me, and took in gulps of air. My eyes anxiously tried to see who had entered the room, but they only saw black.
Roughly I was picked up and tossed over someone’s shoulder. The pressure this caused my abdomen caused me to groan. This orc didn’t smell as bad as the first, for that much I was thankful for. He ran with me over his shoulder, jolting me about. I didn’t know why he was carrying me to another place other than he wanted privacy.
The orc’s hands were holding me in place by the thighs, a place where I didn’t want him touching. Through my thin chemise I could feel his large and warm hands, and I tried not to squirm as I thought about what they would do once he let me down.
I heard a distant rumble of a stampede and voices from a large distance away. At least I was away from the large majority of the orcs now. The noises didn’t seem to be growing louder, hopefully they hadn’t noticed this orc snatching me away. Maybe this one would let me go…afterwards.
“Where are we going?”
No response.
I could hear that he was walking through leaves and foliage. We must be quite far from the orc camp, I didn’t remember trees nearby.
For having run a far distance with a woman on his shoulder, he was remarkably not out of breath. In fact I couldn’t hear anything he did besides the noise his feet made.
He clearly didn’t understand how much pain I was in, between my stomach injuries, my arms behind my back, and being upside down. “Please,” my voice high from the stress. “Put me down.”
Halting in his tracks, he kneeled until my feet touched the ground and set me down in front of a tree, feeling the roots and the bark against my back. I curled into a ball in an attempt to defend myself, even though it was pointless.
I wished he would just get it over with so I could be alone. My eyes burned with unshed tears, the pain in my heart outweighing anything else. I tried to summon the image of the Bard, where he smiled, his eyes so beautiful, but it wasn’t clear. Lowering my head into my legs, I cried, knowing I wouldn’t see him again.
The orc was completely silent. I didn’t even know where he was, so when he finally did make a noise, I would jump out of my skin.
I felt a warm gentle hand on my cheek, and I flinched back from it. But the fingers were wrong, they were too small for an orc’s. They felt like…
“Is it you?” I knew that touch, so tender and kind. My eyes flooded with relief that the Bard was here now and a sob broke from my throat.
He never did answer my question, he didn’t need to. Cutting my bonds, he brought me to his chest, warm, comforting, and protective. My hands clung to his collar, covered in blood, needing to find stability. His arms held me tightly to him, ensuring I didn’t collapse, and to still my quivering.
My face buried into his chest, I heard the rapid thump of his heart and tasted the blood on his clothes, but it didn’t matter, he was here with me. A hand brushed my hair back from my eyes and tilted my chin upwards. As a tear ran down my cheek, he swiped it away with a thumb. His breathing was shallow and labored above me as my hands searched for his face, traveling up his neck. Lifting my head, I rested my cheek against his and my arms wrapped around his shoulders. Turning my head, I cried into his cheek, my lips brushing against the warm skin. I found myself kissing his cheek, thankful beyond words. My lips couldn’t let go of his skin, they continued, making an arc down his cheek. When they met the edge of his mouth, they hesitated, testing the crease, judging his reaction. Little by little my lips traveled across his, until I was half kissing his soft and supple lips. He was unresponsive at first, likely surprised, but he pulled me close to him as his lips moved against mine, tasting like copper and sweetness.
All I could think was, you’re alive, you’re alive, while I embraced him, not willing to break the kiss. My hands searched every inch of him, stroking his jaw, smooth and angular, his hair, smooth and thick, his shoulders, muscled and wide.
Wicked and teasing, his lips continued to ply at mine as his hands ran up and down my back, pressing me closer to him. The way his hands pressed against me, tense and strong, I knew he needed to touch me as desperately as I did.
Quickly I buried my face into his chest again before I could do something really reckless. “I was so scared, they told me they had killed you, I didn’t think you were coming,” I whispered.
“It would take more than a horde of orcs to kill me, silly girl.”
The ends of my mouth lifted, “I’m so glad you’re here.”
He breathed in and out slowly, his voice strangely high when he said, “I’m so sorry, this shouldn’t have happened.” Brushing his thumb over my eyebrow, he added, “Your eyes, you can’t see.”
“I’ve got you, don’t I?” I said, quoting him from earlier.
“Yeah, you do.”
I would have given anything to see his face, to know what he was feeling. I could hear in his voice that he was emotional about something, whether it was relief or something else, I wish I knew.
Lifting me against him, he carried me as he took a seat against the trunk of a tree. My arms came around his neck and I curled my legs in his lap, causing me to grimace in pain from my wound.
“I’ll do everything I can to make you right again,” he whispered.
Frightening as it was that everything around me was unknown, he was with me, I wasn’t alone. He set me back away from him, my hands still clinging to him. Feeling his hand pass along my stomach, inspecting my wounds, he uttered several words I didn’t understand. My wounds burned hot for a moment and then they didn’t pain me anymore. Bringing a hand there, I searched for the wounds that were no longer there.
Looking in his direction, I said, “I didn’t know you could do that.” Typically the holy and devoted had the ability to heal.
“There are many things that I can do that would surprise you.” Taking a hold of my chemise, he murmured some more words and the ripped edges pulled together, the stiffness of the dried blood gone.
I smiled, but didn’t question him. Laying my head on his shoulder, I relaxed against him, content.
The Bard’s arms tightened around me as he stood, carrying me with him. My arms linked behind his neck, my head rested in the crook of his neck, which burned with heat. Covered only by a thin pair of cotton socks, my dangling feet were ice cold.
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t like the smell of orc on me,” he said, nudging his nose against my cheek. “We’re going to the creek nearby.”
It surprised me he knew the local area so well. Knowledge of my own town was embarrassingly low, and yet we were in the middle of nowhere and he knew exactly where things were and how to get there.
As I thought about the man carrying me, there wasn’t much I knew about him. Trusting someone I didn’t know was crazy. Whenever I would ask a question he would always be evasive. If only I could ask whatever I wanted and know more about him, and why he was going so far out of his way to help me, and protect me.
He didn’t have to rescue me, and yet he did. Having me in his life would be the same as not having me in it. Without me he could carry on traveling and performing.
What had he said in my dream? That I was interesting, that other girls bore him? Was that the reason he saved me? That he had something to lose if I’m wasn’t a part of his life? Something different?
I had a hard time believing that I was so unique that every other person in this world just wouldn’t do. Though I had thought what he said was a figment of my imagination, the way he acted echoed those words. The first dream I’d had about Ella, he had known about. He must have known about the second one, and he hadn’t led me to believe the words in the dream were false.
Then there was the moment where I’d lost my mind and kissed him. He didn’t push me away, just the opposite, giving as much as I did, but not more, for which I was glad. Mostly.
To kiss him again would be so easy. I could feel the air he breathed so close to my ear. If I tilted my head just a fraction and if he turned his…but I was too much of a coward to move. My fingers brushed against his hair, amazingly untangled and smooth. As I shivered, the places where his body touched mine made my skin glow in warmth. My feet however were about numb.
“I’m so cold.”
“Just a bit longer, sweetheart.”
Patient and sincere, he was sweeter towards me since our incident. Burrowing my nose into his neck, to fight the chill, I detected the cologne he must have applied earlier in the day. He didn’t smell like an orc as he had claimed.
I wished I knew his name, what to call him by, what to whisper in tender moments such as this. The secrecy of his identity ate at my brain. A native would have figured it out already, he had said. Why couldn’t he just tell me who he was?
So I asked him. “Why won’t you tell me who you are?”
The sounds of nightlife, owls, crickets, and the leaves and grass crackling beneath his feet were my answer. I sighed and adjusted my hold on his neck. Eventually, he quietly said, “Once you know who I am, things will change.”
“What things?”
The Bard sighed and rested his head against mine. “I shouldn’t be with you, in any capacity. Once you know who I am, you’ll realize that too. So, I’m being selfish not telling you about myself.”
“How could I want to not be with you? You saved me, you’re doing so much for me.” Why shouldn’t I be with him? Had he done something terrible in his past that tainted his name? “Keeping this secret from me isn’t good either. If you’re honest with me-”
“I can’t, though I want to. Helping you figure out who I am is all I can do.”
“Why?”
“You’ll understand once you know who I am.”
“All right.” Grateful that he was willing to help me figure out who he was, I smiled. “You shouldn’t worry, that is, if you are, you’ve proven yourself to me, I wouldn’t hold something against you that you did in your past.”
Scoffing, he said, “Everyone does, once they know. They either hate me, or think themselves in love with me.”
I didn’t know which bothered him more. “And if someone actually loved you?”
The leaves stopped their crackling, his body unmoving. I could hear the flowing water nearby. Lowering me, he set me upon the ground. Rustling clothes were thrown beside me with a thud, followed by splashing. Patting my hand on the ground about me I found his jacket and curled myself into it.
Never answering my question, I considered the matter dropped. Maybe he didn’t like the idea of anyone loving him. As I lay on the ground unprotected by the cold and lurking wildlife, I felt uncomfortable. I tried not to panic.
Within a couple of minutes, the Bard emerged from the water and approached me. After some rustling, he lowered close to me. “I’m going to prepare a camp, with a spell. I’ll teach you properly when you can see, but for now I will explain.” Sitting up, I nodded and wrapped his jacket closer around me. Continuing he said, “First you must have the right items, and the right amount.”
“Like a recipe.”
“Yes. Pretend we are making a meal. For this spell, we need residuum, or rare herbs. Then we must add them in a specific order, and in the right spot. So, next we’ll draw markings in the earth, a large circle and then four smaller circles outside it, marking north, south, east and west. Every few minutes, we add the ritual components to one circle. To finish the spell, you speak the correct words, for this it is, thurirli, si relgr shafaer wux ekess xurwk sia okarthel. Since you don’t know how to speak Draconic, it will be hard for you to remember, I’m sure. I’ll have to teach you the language as well.
I could feel that the spell had already taken effect, there was a warm glow before me, the light visible to me. Things moved around me and gathered towards us. “Tell me what’s happening.”
“The spell conjures spirits to gather the materials needed to make camp and also assembles it. They’ve made the fire and they’re now making our tent. It’s a very useful spell to know. Now that I have the light, I would like to try to remedy your impairment. This spell is a little dangerous and difficult, so I’ll need full concentration.”
“Dangerous?” “It can go very wrong if I make a mistake, but don’t worry. I have enough knowledge and experience.” Wrapping his arms around me, he carried me to the other side of the fire and the edge of the canvas brushed my feet. The wind was gone and it was warm inside the tent.
A bedroll met my back as I was laid down, cool and soft. As he let go of me, I reached for him, not wanting him to leave. My hand met the leather of his boot and I gripped it strongly. A light appeared close to me, painfully bright, and I squeezed my eyes shut. My heart was beating hard in my chest, and I realized I was nervous. This was just like having surgery, and just as dangerous. Complications could occur, there was a chance of death. The Bard took my shaking hand in his, “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen.”
“But what if something does happen? What if these were the last moments of my life?”
“I can hear from your song that you won’t die tonight.”
“How can you know for sure? You didn’t know about the orcs. Otherwise you wouldn’t have stopped the coach, wouldn’t have allowed me to read that book.” Thoughts of the orcs swirled me into a panic. The orcs could have followed us and be ready to attack just outside. “The orcs could be near, but you can’t know for sure, can you?”
“Shh, Lillian,” he whispered, trying to comfort me. “I’ll summon some watchmen to ease your nerves, hmm?”
Gripping his hand tightly, I nodded, somewhat relieved. His lips touched my forehead and his hand smoothed over my hair. “I’ll be back in a moment, my love.”
As he moved to leave, my hand in his stayed him. “Please don’t go.” I know I sounded pitiful and afraid. I couldn’t be alone now, not after what happened.
It must have been something in my voice that made him stay. “Of course, Lillian, I’ll stay.” Digging around, he prepared the summoning of the watchmen, explaining as he went. It was comforting listening to his instruction, his voice low and beautiful. I heard the clanking of armored men outside the tent and I jumped, afraid they were the orcs, but he reminded me they were the watchmen protecting us.
The Bard arranged some items and his fingers scraped into the earth as before. Scented smoke filled the small tent and muddied my concentration. Foreign words were murmured softly close to my ear. The light became brighter behind my eyelids and I covered them with my hand. A different scent my nose detected, and it stung my eyes until they watered, filled my lungs until I choked on it. I nearly jumped when I felt his hands massaging my scalp, concentrating at the back of my head. Occasionally his fingernails would gently scratch against my skin, causing me to shiver. My eyes began to burn hot with pain and I bit my lip in an attempt to suppress it and not cry out. Removing my hand, his thumbs grazed over my eyelids, rubbing them in strokes, his fingers curling around my head and in my rumpled hair.
The brightness of the light faded, and I opened my eyes. I saw darkness, but I could see the moonlight through the sliver of an opening in the canvas. Turning my head, I searched for the Bard, reaching out my hand. His eyes glinted in what little light there was, and threads of his blond hair shined. My hand met his perfectly smooth cheek and he smiled, as did I. Now I could finally see the emotion in his face, he was relieved and happy. He took my hand in his two and brought the back to his lips as it were a holy relic, kissing it in devotion.
“Lillian, are you all right now?”
Smiling up at his concerned, yet hopeful face, I said, “Yes. Yes, I can see you.”
Gathering me in his arms, he lifted me into his chest, warm and clean, smelling of scented soap. His shirt was halfway open, revealing his toned chest. My cheek rested upon firm muscle, my lips grazing his skin.
Pulling away from him, I looked into his eyes. Their color was indistinguishable with so little light, but I knew they were sky blue, the kind of blue of a cloudless summer sky. His eyelashes were of the palest blond, as if they had been bleached by the sun. Youth overtook his eyes, as if love struck, though he looked to be in his early thirties.
Smiling, I took his hand and laid back down on the bedroll, slipping my legs inside. “Thank you.” I whispered. My eyes wanted to fall shut, but I forced them open. “Will you stay while I try to fall asleep?”
Nodding, he said, “Yes, of course. You should rest your eyes.” Laying along side me, he held my hand, gazing into my eyes. Before long he hummed a lullaby I recognized as the one he had played in the inn, slow and melancholy. My eyes drifted shut and I fell asleep with a smile on my face.
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Post by Rarity on Feb 15, 2010 21:25:50 GMT -5
Chapter 8
I was still smiling when I woke the next morning. For the first time since I’ve been here, I hadn’t had a cryptic dream. If I had dreamt, I couldn’t recall.
Opening my eyes, I thanked The Bard for being able to see. The tent was empty, the sunlight coming through. Sitting up, I pulled the Bard’s jacket more securely again me and tucked my hair behind my ears.
The tent opened and a ghostly figure appeared. It gestured for me to stand and held open the flaps as it waited for me to exit. Standing, I buttoned the jacket and rolled back the sleeves. The bottom of the jacket would reach The Bard’s knees were it on him, but it was similar to a dress on me, so I was somewhat decently clothed as I went outside the tent.
The Bard was stirring a bowl of food, staring into the campfire. Approaching him, he glanced up at me and grinned. Handing me the bowl, he said, “My jacket is most adorable on you.”
Eyes traveling over him, I couldn’t help but admire his attire. He had changed his clothes, but they were similar to his others. Black durable pants were low on his lean hips, the cut very flattering to his legs. His white long sleeved shirt was left unlaced and only met on the bottom half of the front. The shirt was form fitting, revealing his rounded biceps and flat stomach.
Taking the wooden bowl and spoon, I ate automatically, barely tasting the sweetened porridge. The spirits were breaking down the tent and removing evidence of our stay here. Running water from the stream reminded me how I longed for a shower, but there was no way I was going to bathe outdoors where something could come along and bite me on the ass.
Raising my eyes, I found him staring at me and he looked away quickly, feigning interest with the progress of the tearing down of camp. Swallowing the mouthful of porridge, I cleared my throat and asked, “So what’s the plan today?”
Turning back towards me, he said, “I will conjure a steed for us to ride. There is a small town about a half day away, where we can stay for a bit and purchase a few things for you. The apparel items will be basic and most likely hideous, but I’ll get you nicer things once we reach the capitol of Auzria, at the very latest.”
I couldn’t help but notice he said he’d get them for me. Thinking it better not to insist on paying for my own things, I nodded my head. No doubt he would refuse me to spend my own money anyway.
My eyes glanced at his mouth for a moment, and I remembered last night. The tension between us was different now, and it would likely get worse with him. We were to share one horse on our travels, and I didn’t know what would happen with us touching for a long period of time. My mind went wild with scenarios.
I’d once read another romance novel where a knight had taken a novice nun and had shared a horse. The motion of her against him had resulted in his desire for her. I could only hope that wouldn’t happen to me.
Glancing over at him, I found him kneeling before markings in the earth, powder scattered across them. He was preparing the steed, murmuring words, his eyes focused on his hands.
Paying attention to the way he moved his arms, trying to remember what he did. I was distracted by his body once again. I could remember when I had trouble looking directly at him my first day here, but ever since he ‘allowed’ me to look at him, I couldn’t stop. His limbs were long, but perfectly muscled. He was not bulky, but rather large in general, his shoulders wide, his torso robust. There wasn’t a part of him that wasn’t toned and muscled, even his back looked strong. My flabby arms were embarrassingly feeble in comparison.
My eyes returned to the ritual he was performing as smoke rose from the powder and swirled about. Turning into a dark purple color, it formed into the shape of a horse, the edges blurry. A saddle and harness also formed as the horse became more tangible. The steed was the same that had pulled the carriage yesterday, transparent and made of shadow.
The Bard rose and turned toward me. “Ladies first.” Approaching me, he put his hand on my waist, caressing my hip for a moment, and placing me on the saddle, legs hanging off the same side. He grinned up at me before hitching his foot in the stirrup and swinging his other leg over the horse, sitting behind me. Arms coming around me, he gathered the reins. The way my hip fit between his legs was disconcerting and a glance up into his face confirmed my suspicions, that he was enjoying himself.
“Put your arms around me,” he said. As he nudged the phantom horse with his heels, I realized this command was for my own safety, as I was knocked back into him. Wrapping my arms around him, I rested my cheek against his check as the galloping horse rocked us about.
“Remind me why we’re sharing a horse?”
Laughing, he said, “Isn’t it obvious? You can’t ride.”
“Why not? It doesn’t seem that difficult.”
“Even if you had proper attire, you wouldn’t be able to control the beast without knowing how to do so.”
“This is more uncomfortable than that stuffy carriage.”
“What do you expect woman? To be carried about on a feather pillow? Any other sophisticated means of traveling, say teleportation, would be monitored and recorded, not to mention the people I would have to bribe for their silence.”
I didn’t know how we’d just broken out into an argument, but could only conclude that no one, no matter the means, despised traveling.
“Then maybe another carriage. I promise I won’t read.”
Looking up into his face, I could see his frown. “We’ll see.”
Nodding, I settled against him and thought about my options. The Bard was taking me south to avoid Ella, but how he was progressing on getting me back home, I didn’t know. It seemed like he had a short term plan, but not a long term. Did he know how to get me back or knew someone to ask? I would ask him more on the subject when I was clothed and shoed properly.
Tonight I would read the book he had given me, if he still had it. I hoped he did. Otherwise I would stare at the wall or something for having nothing better to do.
By now I was saddle sore and I fidgeted, trying to find a more comfortable position. I curled my toes, which I didn’t think ever fully thawed.
“My feet are going to break off, they’re so cold.”
“We’re nearly there.”
“I thought you said the town was a half day away?”
“I did.”
For the first time I realized how fast the mount was going. It was like riding in a car on the interstate, it was so fast. I could see small wooden buildings in the distance, enough of them together to be a town.
“They are close to the orc camp. I’m sure the town gets some trouble from them.”
“Not anymore,” he said.
Turning my head up to look at him, I furrowed my brow in confusion. “What do you mean? I thought I heard them as we were leaving, after you came for me.”
“You didn’t see the fire I lit. There won’t be much left now.”
“Oh, well, that’s good, I guess.”
“It was meant as a distraction, but it served a dual purpose.”
I shivered as I thought about the moments there and how it’d been a miracle that I made it out in my present condition. Now I was beginning to wonder what he’d been doing after my capture. I had been at the camp for several hours, why had he waited so long to act? It didn’t matter enough to ask, as all was well now.
He must have felt my reaction to the conversation, tightened an arm around me, and kissed my forehead. “We’ll be inside the inn shortly, and you can relax. I’ll have them bring a tub in for you to soak in, hmm?”
Smiling widely, I hugged him strongly. “That’ll be wonderful.”
The steed galloped to the town and cantered past a few buildings. They were small and simple, made of wood and stone, their roofs of straw. The road was slushy and mixed with mud.
The Bard directed the steed to a small building with stalls and horses adjacent to a building labeled “Inn”. I guess if this was the only inn in town, there was no need to get creative with names.
A boy from inside the stables approached us and took the horse by the harness. “Good morning, I see you won’t be needing to stable your phantom steed, but I’ll hold him for you while you dismount.” He wore plain clothes and his young face had smudges on his cheeks.
The Bard’s hand unwound my arms and placed them upon the pummel of the saddle before he shifted his weight and hopped off the horse. Taking a gold coin from his pouch, he handed it to the boy. “Many thanks. Do run in and arrange for a room, a bath, and for a meal.” Handing him another coin, he added, “For your trouble.”
The boy bowed and scampered off into the inn, ecstatic, leaving the Bard to help me down. Hands coming to my waist, my hands went around his shoulders. I realized when he settled his arms underneath my knees and back that he was going to carry me inside the inn. I could only imagine what people would think. But, not wanting to walk shoeless in the snow, I grudgingly allowed him to carry me inside.
“This is embarrassing,” I groaned. Laughing, he said, “Just wait. No one’s seen you yet.”
“That’s what I’m thinking about.”
As he approaching the door, it was opened by the boy, and he held the door for us as the Bard carried me inside. It appeared that the boy had alerted those inside of our coming, as they all were gathered around and staring at us.
The boy thankfully saved us, “My ma says you can have the suite, it’s the last door down the hall upstairs, and that my sisters are drawing and warming the water now. Ma will bring up your dinner at midday.”
“Very good.” Giving the boy a short nod, he headed towards the stairs with me. The common room was small, but oddly full of people. Many had tankards and were sitting at the bar. So this place was a tavern and inn combined. Though it was fairly early in the day, some of them looked several drinks in, and leered at me, whistling up after us as he carried me upstairs.
“They think we’ve just been married,” he said, chuckling.
“I don’t see why that’s funny.”
Continuing down to the end of the hall, he set me on my feet and turned to me. “I’ll keep them entertained while you take your bath, I’ll be back for our midday meal.” Kissing me on the cheek, he added, “I’ll also see what clothing and shoes there are to be had, unless you would prefer to go about half naked?” This last part he played with the top button of the jacket, hope in his voice.
I snatched his hand, holding it at bay. My small hand was almost eclipsed by his, and yet he stopped at my gesture, though he had the strength to continue if he wished. I knew that he was joking, but there was a part of him, if not all, that wanted to see me half naked, even though he already had. Boundaries had to be defined, and since he had few boundaries, it was up to me to set them.
“Don’t do this, you and I both know we shouldn’t. What happened earlier was a mistake.”
“The kiss you gave me, or after when you couldn’t keep your hands off me?”
I disregarded that with a wave of my hand. “I was in shock, traumatized, blind. Of course I needed to know where you were.”
“That doesn’t explain why you kissed me.”
“I…” There was nothing that could explain it, other than gratitude, combined with bad judgment. “I was thanking you, I was thankful to be unharmed.”
“Mmhmm,” he murmured, unconvinced. “Is that customary where you come from? If so, I’d like to come with you.”
With his last comment, all the frustration over the past few days erupted. “Do you know how to get me back or not? Why are we going south?”
“Of course I do,” he smiled, his voice unnaturally calming. “We’re running from Ella, we can’t let her catch you.”
“Exactly why is that?”
His smile fell, and his eyebrows came together, annoyed, “I’ve already explained.”
“So she’s after me because she knows I don’t belong here, right? Wouldn’t she want to send me on my way, since I don’t belong here?”
“Remember your dream, Lillian, she wants to keep you, interrogate you, imprison you.” Again his voice was hypnotic and suggestive.
I didn’t question this point, the dream was frightening, and I didn’t want Ella to catch me. “So, what’s your plan? How do I get home?”
“The plan is the same, to travel south, avoid Ella, and I’ll teach you to perform.”
“No, that’s not a plan! I’m not going to travel with you and be your bed warmer. I should turn around and head back to Aldenshire where I can bump into Ella on the way!”
His face grew dark and he threw his arms open wide while taking a step backward. “If you wish. After all, I was helping you, having little to gain from it, asking nothing of you. If you don’t want my help anymore, then I’ll be gone,” he said, vanishing before my eyes.
I reached out to where he used to be standing, but he had already gone. Looking down the hall and in my room, I didn’t find him there either. Running to the stairs I searched the common area, not there. I returned to my room and looked out the window. He was gone.
I immediately regretted what I said, though I’d meant it. He still couldn’t tell me how he planned to get me back home, maybe he didn’t want me to know. Otherwise, what reason would I have to travel with him?
A little voice inside said that I would travel with him for the adventure, for the company, to be with him. He was one of the few people that knew my secret, that I was an outlander, and the only person willing to help me, and I just threw that all away.
Now he’d left me alone in a foreign place. A part of me believed he wouldn’t really leave me, but only would stay hidden for a while to make his point. Another part feared that he was gone for good.
It’d happened so fast. One second he was flirting with me, the next we were arguing, and then he was gone. Why did he go? Was what I said so horrible, so unforgivable? He would be back, I knew it. After he went to fetch my new clothing and shoes, we could make up and everything would be back to normal.
Several girls emerged through the room’s door, carrying a wooden tub and buckets of water. Turning to the fireplace for something to stare into, I noticed it was unlit. Additional searching brought me to find flint and steel. You would think there would be a more advanced way to start fire in this world, but there wasn’t. I’d never started a fire with flint and steel before, but I knew the basic technique. Simple, right?
I gathered tinder that had been already set aside in a basket and placed it on the hearth. Picking up the flint, I held it close to the pile of stringy hay and struck the steel against the end. There were some sparks, but it didn’t catch. I tried again, and again, and again, trying different angles and pressures, but it still didn’t light. My embarrassing display was witnessed by one of the passing girls emptying water and she came toward me.
“Would you like some help?” she asked, her young pretty face making me envious.
Moving away from the fireplace, I said, “Yeah, thanks.” I handed over the flint and steel into the girl’s hands.
“These can be tricky sometimes,” she said, as she lit the tinder with one stroke.
“Hmph, you make it look so easy.”
She added twigs and smaller pieces of wood to the fire, making it grow. “I’ve had loads of practice.” Adding logs now, the fire burned brightly and warmed the front of me.
It was depressing how practically useless I was, unable to take care of myself without something going wrong, unable to fight, unable to make fire. Everything that I’d learned in the real world was almost useless here. I could read and write, my other skills such as sewing and cooking were so basic they could hardly be placed in the ‘helpful’ category. I could write a decent essay and research papers, but how that would be useful.
Unless…
The Bard had mentioned something earlier, that travels were documented. What if planar travels were also documented, or information on planar travel was written down in a book somewhere, in a library maybe. Old school research I hadn’t done since before the internet databases and search engines were invented, but surely I could still try. If I was lucky there would be an index of some kind or person that could help me, if I could even find a library, and be admitted inside. The way I remembered it, libraries were exclusive to members of a magic group of to people who were wealthy. If only the Bard was here now.
The door clicked closed and I turned to find myself alone in the room. I didn’t like being alone. “I didn’t mean it,” I whispered, hoping he could somehow hear. “I need help.” The room was absolutely silent, save for the wood crackling in the fireplace. He wasn’t here.
I paced the room, looking out the window when I passed it, listening for footsteps in the hall. “Please, come back,” I whispered, over and over. Sitting in front of the fire, I watched the logs burn for a few minutes before I began my pacing again, looking out the window. The street was empty. I knew the water in the tub was cooling, but still I waited for a sign from him. Opening the door, I hoped it would be on the other side, but there was no one there. I closed it and rested my head against it, saying a little prayer, “I can’t do this alone, please help me.” My ears strained to hear something, anything, but all they heard was the muffled conversations from downstairs. Dragging my feet, I went to the window once more, searching for his figure emerging from a store. After several more minutes of waiting for him to come, I realized he wasn’t coming back.
How could he do that to me, to leave me stranded in a place I didn’t know? I went furious. “Fine. Leave.”
Stripping off my – his – jacket, I threw it angrily across the room, landing with a heavy thud. My underclothes followed suit and I calmly laid them across the bed.
I slipped into the tub before the water got too cold, not wanting to miss the opportunity, even though I had many things on my mind. Using the soap and cloth that had been laid out, I washed while I brooded, scrubbing unnecessarily rough.
Abandoned and scared, I tried to focus on the rage. If I let myself think too long on my hopelessness I could lose any hope at all, so I imagined The Bard’s face and planting my fist into it repeatedly. He was using me, I knew that now. At the first occasion I mentioned my refusal to be his bedmate, he vanishes. Typical male, only one thing is ever on their mind.
When I noticed my shaking hands were splashing water over the edge of the tub, I decided it was a good time to rinse and get out of the bath. Wrapping myself with the towel I strode to the bed and sat on the edge. I had no desire to put on dirty clothes, so I shivered in a towel instead, staring at the wooden floor.
My eyes fell onto the Bard’s jacket, and something that peeked out of the edge of the front pocket. Leaning down, I pulled it out to see what it was. My fingers touched leather, parchment; it was the book he had given me, “The Pantheon”. I set the book on the table next to the bed, not wanting to read it.
I couldn’t hold onto the rage, it slipped away, and the hurt of being abandoned ruled. My head fell onto the pillow, and I curled my legs into my chest, lying in a miserable heap on the bed. Pulling the blanket out from under me, I slipped inside, the feather mattress rough and cold. Burying my face into the pillow, I tried not to cry.
There was a faint knocking at the door before it opened, I feigned sleep. Several feet clogged against the wood floor, followed by splashing. The girls were coming to take the bath away. I vaguely detected the scent of warm food. Was it midday already?
I continued to sulk in the bed, not hungry, and a part of me hoped that he would be back for our midday meal, as he said. Listening for any movement from him, I remained perfectly still. There was no noise.
My eyes closed, exhaustion catching up with me. The image of his face wouldn’t leave, the way he looked at me before he left me, upset. If I ever saw him again I would try to earn his forgiveness somehow.
In the blackness I saw him, and called out. I was in the forest, the night of the orc attack, running after The Bard. His back was to me, slowly walking away from me, but no matter how fast I ran I couldn’t catch up to him. Why wouldn’t he stop, why wouldn’t he listen?
A figure came out from behind a tree in front of me, light emanating. The figure was a petite woman, long brown hair, armored with breastplate and a heavy mace. Turning to me, she held up her hand, “Let him go, it is better this way. Alton will take care of you now.”
“Ella? I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“You will soon.” She smiled kindly at me.
“I’m so scared, I don’t know what to do.”
Approaching me, she took my hands in hers. “Don’t worry, Lillian. Alton will help you, have faith.”
I looked over her shoulder at the Bard, still walking away. “What about him? Can he not help me anymore?”
Ella glanced back at him before saying, “He was never planning on it.”
I tried my best not to let my disappointment show. “But…I thought he could, why wouldn’t he help me?”
Ella stared at me, with no expression. “He doesn’t want you to go back home.”
I woke with a jerk, and opened my eyes to a dark room. The fire had gone out, the air in the room was freezing cold, and I shivered from both the dream and the temperature. In front of the window was the silhouette of a tall man with long hair. Sitting up in the bed, pulling the covers with me, my heart pounded in my chest. I couldn’t hide the excitement in my voice. “You came back?”
An unfamiliar voice answered, “I’ve only just arrived.”
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Post by Rarity on Feb 28, 2010 0:46:46 GMT -5
Don't get excited, this is not a new chapter.
Just giving an update, I'm overhauling the beginning of the book, adding stuff, moving stuff, editing a few small things, but not really removing anything, don't worry.
Chapters Up to Date: 1 2 3 (halfway done)
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