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Post by Razgat on Jan 14, 2009 16:50:30 GMT -5
The night was young, but the rain still poured down from the blackened sky as thunder rolled throughout the hills of Noori, a small farmer's town in the country of Azaban. Lightning struck close to homes, and even hit a tree or two, but luckily no fires had started. The town seemed to be filled with fear and misbelief. A storm like this was uncommon to the region. It seemed like a flood would begin to form if it carried on like this for too long.
Mrs. Capper was in her fourties, but already knew the effects of old age well. Having two boys and running an inn put a lot of stress on the body, so the soft wrinkles around her eyes and mouth came around her thirties. She had been upstairs in bed when she heard a knock on the door. This did not startle her because she received many late night check-ins at her inn, but who would be out in a storm like this? 'Perhaps it's a traveler who got caught in the storm.'
She rushed down the stairs as she heard many more anxious knocks at the door. "I'm coming! I'm coming!"
Mrs. Capper had quickly pulled on a shawl over her night gown before opening the door. "Yes? Is anyone there?"
She opened the door to see a small hooded figure. The cloak seemed too big for the being and the hood came past it's nose. She thought she heard a sniffle. "Hello, there. Can I help you?"
"Y-yes, please."
A small cower seemed to be heard in the back of their voice as they pulled down their hood, tears streaming down their soft, rosy cheeks. A young girl, soaking wet, looked up at the old inn keeper with a look of fear in her eyes. Mrs. Capper bent down to look at her face. "Are you alright deary? Why don't you come in?"
She gently grabbed her shoulder and led her into the warm, dry inn. She removed the cloak and gazed at the girls cloaths. It was a silk dress with gold trimings around the waist and hem. Small gems formed a belt around her waist. Mrs. Capper quickly shook her head to break the gaze, and hung the cloak on the rack by the door. She grabbed her hankerchif and began to wipe away the tears that had been streaming down the girls face. "What was a young thing like you doing out in the middle of the night? And during a storm!?"
She sniffled a bit than looked up at Mrs. Capper. "A lady told me that this would be my new home. She left me alone before I could even say anything."
Mrs. Capper stared at the girl. She showed a kind smile, but in the back of her mind, she knew something must be wrong. She already had two kids, she couldn't afford another. It would make running the inn hard, and cash would be often short. She glanced over the poor girl, wondering if she could find a family to live with. "You can stay here as long as you like, dear. I'll treat you as if you were my own daughter."
That was ten years ago.
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Post by Razgat on Jan 14, 2009 19:03:09 GMT -5
The sun was shining brightly as birds fluttered about. Everything had a lively color to it. It seemed that the town of Noori was at it's happiest.
"PLEASE! COME BACK! TREVOOOOOOOOOOOR!"
A young boy of sixteen was running through the town's mainstreet, pushing past any people in his way. He was the fastest runner in town, and he knew she couldn't catch him. Even now, her voice sounded faint in the distance. He passed his mother's inn, the town's entrance was close. He saw where the stone pathway ended and a dirt trail began. He bursted through at full speed, not caring about the faint voice behind him. He had to get out of that town. He was sick of it, and he never wanted to go back, but he knew he would.
He slowed down his pace until it came to a nice stroll. He was in a feild next to a river that trickled by. He could see the farms that people had built outside of the farm, and smelt the furtilizer that was steaming in the warm sun. He looked at it and tried to think of why he had ran off. 'Oh, yeah........Johnathan.'
Johnathan was his older brother. While most young men were off in the world working for a guild or caravan, he was helping his mother out in the inn or studying in the attic. He wanted to be a scholar, and knew much of the world, but never wanted to set out to see it for him self. When Trevor had told him that he should join a caravan to go study abroad and see the real world that isn't a picture he said "A picture is just as good as the real thing."
But the world WASN'T just like a picture. A picture was flat, while the world was three-dimentional. It seemed to stretch on forever. A picture appealed to your eyes, while the world appealed to ALL of your senses. You could feel the warmth of then sun, listen to the trickle of a river, taste the sweet fruits of life! The world had so much to offer, and you can't find your answers in a book!
Trevor sat by the river, thinking of his last conversation with his brother. "Johnathan.......you're an idiot."
He tossed a pebble into the river, watching it cause ripples as it skipped over the reflection of Catherine, standing behind him.
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Post by Razgat on Jan 14, 2009 20:24:31 GMT -5
Catherine looked down upon her freind. Though she was younger than him, she held some authority over him. No matter what, he always listened to her........most of the time, but even when he didn't, he never forgot about what she had said. "He's smarter than you."
Trevor didn't look at her. He just kept on skipping pebbles across the river. It was calm here, but it got deeper up had rappids up ahead, but they had never seen them. Catherine had never left the town before, except for the outskirts, but she didn't go far.
She hadn't changed much since she first arrived. She was taller, and looked a little more grown up, but still had a youthful face, but she was only fifteen. She looked different from the other girls. Instead of wearing a cotton dress with a girdle, she wore a plain, bark blue dress with a light blue trim. Her medium lenghth, light brown hair had two strands hanging in front of her ears, wrapped in blue ribbin. No girls did their hair that way, and no one had ever seen it before. She acted differently, too. She seemed to be wise for her age, and had a sense of authority to her, but it was easily overthrown.
She bent over so that her face was level with Trevor's. "Come back with me?"
She helt out her hand, and he just stared at it for a minute. He was hesitent, but took her hand, letting her pull him up and ruffle his blond hair. It didn't change much. He always looked a little rough. His button up, cotton shirt was never tucked in, and his pants were a bit baggy, but she didn't care.
The two walked back to the inn, hand in hand, whether Trevor liked it or not.
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Post by Razgat on Jan 15, 2009 17:01:13 GMT -5
The wind blew to a hault. The Mother would never tear again, for her veins had run dry. Her open arms crumbled, causing her pools of beauty to turn into waves of death. Her lovely complexion cracked and hot blood spewed out. Her loved ones faded into darkness as the Golden Goddess looked upon her with malicious satisfaction. The Mother's always looming friend grew red with rage and turned away from the children, casting them into darkness.
The Mother's children, once basking in her beauty, were forced to live on their Mother's body. She had grown cold like death and hot like hell. Their world had faded into darkness, and they became creatures of the unknown. Their once high and mighty ways became chaotic and savage. The Centered Goddess looked upon them with hatred and grew hot in anger until it exploded. She forced her wrath upon them until they faded to nothingness.
This dark day shall be known as The Mother's Dooms Day, and will be the end of The Mother and Her Children.
The book snapped shut before Johnathan slipped the book into a cozy spot on his shelf. He adjusted his round glasses, chuckling to himself, as he remembered how many times he had read the legends in that book. He never got tired of them and figured that he would read them even in his old age. He heard the front door open downstairs and rushed down, thinking it was a customer. "Oh, it's just you."
He slowed his pace as Catherine scowled at him, entering the front door with Trevor. "What? No 'Hello'?
Trevor just walked past them, walking up towards the attic. He usually went there to think to himself. Catherine watched him go with concern, then turned to Johnathan, a look of disappointment on her face. Johnathan just stared back at her. "What did I do?"
He adjusted his vest and turned to go back to his studies, leaving Catherine to herself. She laughed to herself, 'And to think this all started because of a little book.'
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Post by Razgat on Jan 15, 2009 21:32:11 GMT -5
Trevor looked out at the town through the small window in the attic. He had a perfect view from up here. Half of his view consisted of a lazy, barely crouded town, while the other half showed parts of the green, tranquil feilds. He would always compare the two, wondering how two places that were so different could possibly end up nexy to eachother.
The attic door, which was a small trap door with a ladder, creaked open. He didn't have to turn to know it was Catherine. She was never good at stealth. She was always the first to get caught during a game of knights and dragons. She usually got eaten while another girl became the damsel in destress, but those were childish games that he hadn't played in years. They only made him remember that he could never experience the real thing.
"What do you want, Catherine?" He tried to sound tough, but his voice came out gentle. He could never act unkindly towards her.
"Can't I spend some time with my friend?", she plopped down beside him and looked out the window. She leaned against his shoulder, closing her eyes,"It's a lovely view, isn't it?"
"Then why aren't you looking at it?", he shook his shoulder, causing her to sit up straight. Well, he almost never acted unkindly.
Catherine sighed and rested her head on her knees, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm in the cold attic. "Do you know what's coming up soon?", she asked, turining her head to him slightly.
"No", Trevor was fixated on the window and paid no attention to her.
"My birthday."
"It's not your real birthday, Catherine."
"I know. It's the aniversary of when I first came to this inn, but we also count it as my birthday, since I don't remember my real one. I wonder why I can't remember."
"You probably hit your head on the way. Your such a clutz."
Trevor jokingly poked her ribs with his elbow, and she scowled at him, but she couldn't help smiling. Trevor didn't smile offen, or at least not a true one, but when he did it was marvelous. You couldn't help but smile in return. "Come on. Why don't we find Johnathan? Maybe he can tell us some old legends, just like he used to."
Trevor's smile faded, and he turned back to the window. "I don't think he will, Catherine. He's twenty now, and focuses more on studying now. Besides, we're too old for that stuff."
Catherine got on to her hands and knees and leaned close to Trevor, her face inches from his. "Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?" She was using her inocent smile and big eyes to her advantage. No one could say no to a face like hers.
Trevor sighed to himself, knowing an argument would be useless. "Alright, lead the way."
"YES!" She grabbed his hand and they jumped from the attic onto the third floor, landing with a loud thud. She continued to drag him to Johnathan's room, where she knew he would be studying.
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Post by Razgat on Jan 16, 2009 17:40:31 GMT -5
Trevor let himself get dragged by Catherine to Johnathan's room. He personally thought that stories were for children, but Catherine loved them. He didn't have anything else to do and he knew that he could never win in an argument against her.
When they got to Johnathan's room, they barged in, not even bothering to knock. He was sitting at his desk, enchanted by an old book he was reading. Catherine looked over his shoulder, examining the pages. He didn't even show a sign that they were there. "I've neer seen that one before", Catherine commented, giggling when he jumped at the sound of her voice.
"Jeez, Catherine, don't surprise me like that! You know I hate it when you do that."
"I'm sorry." She bowed her head, hiding a smile.
"It's fine, but yes, this book is new. I bought it off an old begger this afternoon. I just opened it up."
"Could you read it to us? It could be like when we were young." Catherine laced her fingers together and held them up in a begging motion. She sat down on his bed, pulling Trevor down beside her. "We won't be any trouble."
"Um....sure. Why not?"
Trevor snorted and looked away, but Johnathan smiled. Trevor used to get as excited as Catherine when he got a new book. They would always read in his room, but that was a while ago. Trevor had grown up, but that was a good thing. You can't be a child forever. He glanced at Catherine, seeing her youthful expression. She had barely changed since she first came here. She had gotten taller, and looked more like a lady, but still acted like a child. Johnathan frowned, but hid it with his open book. She couldn't be a child forever.
Past the Feilds of Peace, through the Forest of Envy, and over the Tear's of Mother lived a century old civilization. They were like no other and were Mother's favorites. They lived peacefully, shrouded in magic and knowledge.
There was also a king of this land. He ruled with a noble heart, however, he had many troubles. A neighboring kingdom of darkness and hate wished to expand. They wanted the king's land to sacrafice to their god. The king refused, calling the shadow's god an evil spirit, which was the truth and the shadows knew it, but they swore that the land would shrivil away in his wrath.
Many moons past, and the kingdoms' tensions grew more bitter than ever. The shadow beings wanted to attack, cursing the light ones into darkness. The Dark Phantom, their king, wished to attack, but in a way that would crush the light ones' hearts, and he knew just how to do it.
The light ones sensed the danger and asked the king to call upon their ancestors, the Dragonians. These beings had the power to transform into mighty beasts and breath magic. They had built the kingdom from their scales and vanished with time. The normally peaceful light ones grew fearful and demanded that the daughters be forced to participate in an iniciation. There were suspitions that the daughters had inherited genes of the Dragonians, but they had never been proven. The iniciation involved sacraficing them to a pit of boiling liquid, said to be the blood of the Dragonians. If they truly carried the genes, they would gain the powers to transform. If not, their bodies would burn in the firey liquid.
The king did not wish to have his daughters sacraficed in the Iniciation of Truth, but knew his daughters would be slain by the angry townsfolk if he did not comply. He called for his daughters, one young and one old, to his thrown and told them of the iniciation. Knowing the duty they held towards their people, they complied. The iniciation would begin that night.
The elder daughter, the brave one, would be sacraficed first. She was believed to have the most influence of the ancestors, for she was almost identical to the statue displayed in the court, an exact replica of a Dragonian queen. She was the beautiful in the kingdom, and had turned down many suitors, hoping to find one worthy of being a king, but her time had been cut short, and she knew she would die.
Her younger sister, the one with a pure heart, cried silently to herself, fearing the dreadful knight. She was not brave like her elder sister, and was afraid of death. Her sister comferted her and told her that their deeds would not go in vain. The younger daughter was barely a lady, and held much spirit. She held her head up high, and the two daughters, dressed in silk made from their ancestors scales and two strands of hair in front of their ears tied with a golden thread, marched silently to the edge of their society, where the firey liquid layed in waiting.
The iniciation began without delay. The once kind, but now cruel towns people cheered as shouted at the two, asking for their ancestors to bless them with a sure victory. The eldest daughter was guided to the edge of the pit where a small path was lain. She stepped out onto it and turned to face her people, saying a prayer to her ancestors, asking for them to lend her their power. She leaned back, letting herself fall backwards into the pit. The croud grew silent and the younger daughter wailed in pain, but they heard no sound. The water was not stirred, and no one came out. The cround began to mourn softly for their lost princess, realizing their unthougtful actions. The younger daughter was released, and she ran out onto the platform, falling onto her hands and knees, looking out over it.
A creature flew out of the pit and into the air. It seemed that the kingdom's prayers had been answered. They cheered as the creature flew over the croud and onto a statue of an angel holding a book. The croud suddenly gasped and cried out in fear and agony. The creature was the Dark Phantom, and he perched on top of the book, holding the daughter.
He cursed them, calling them fools for thinking they could escape his wrath. He tossed a sword at the king, running him through at his heart. He fell cold as death to the ground and the light ones beacame destraught and panicked. They began to run towards the safety of the kingdom, but were met by shadow sholdiers who slaughtered them on the spot. The Dark Phantom leaped into the air again, ignoring the screams of the daughter he held. She begged for her sister to run, wishing her to live through the terrors of the night, but the Dark Phantom was quick and landed just before her, but the eldest daughter was quicker, stabbing him in the side with a dagger she had hidden in her dress.
The two daughters ran away together, hoping to escape the doom of their people, but the Dark Phantom lived on to persue them. Not only did the kingdom crumble, but the world seemed to shrivel away as the Mother mourned for her lost Children. The kingdoms collapsed, the dark ones unaware of what they had unleashed upon themselves. Their god, escaping from the depths of hatred, sheilded the land in darkness, cursing it for many centuries.
The daughters were never found, for none existed that could search. It is thought that one escaped and saved the land from devastation, but no one ever saw what happened, and the tale only lived on the breath of weary travelors.
Ten years past One thousand years future We will live again to save the land that evil wants to lambaste And will mend our hearts with a suture Of love and kindness, not bitter and hate Do not fear the dangers of now There is still a hereafter, and I avow You shall rule the land that we create
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Post by Razgat on Jan 17, 2009 15:24:40 GMT -5
"But what about--", Trevor cut himself off and looked away.
Johnathan smiled to himself, remembering the old days. He would always stop during a part in the story that had a lot of tension, making Catherine and Trevor very anxious. They would usually shout out comments or ask questions, wanting to know the rest, but he would always make them wait. They used to get into the stories so easily, and it seemed that Trevor had ket himself get attached, but he wouldn't show it.
Catherine, on the other hand, had been enchanted by the story. "What happened to the princesses? Did they get away?" Her eyes were wide and she nearly jumped off the bed in excitement.
Johnathan looked at the book again to continue the story but frowned. "It just ends. The rest of the pages are blank. And to think that I paid twenty cagles for this!" (cagles are little bronze coins. 1 c= 1.5 dollars)
Catherine's body slumped as she sighed. She had hoped that there was more to the story, but was now disappointed. "That's it? There's nothing else?"
"What a waist of time." Trevor stood up and walked out the door, showing no interest in the story, but the others could tell that he was disappointed too.
Johnathan flipped through the pages again and again, checking its contents to make sure he didn't miss anything. Each page contained a picture and description. He examined each of them quickly, thinking that they must have some hidden meaning. Catherine, no longer interested, stood up and stretched her arms. "Well, I'm off to bed. Maybe you can get your money back for that book."
Johnathan glanced up to say goodnight, but paused before he could say a word. He looked at the picture of the younger daughter and then at Catherine. They were very similar. He compared their faces and the way they dressed, and even their actions. 'Maybe she could be.....No. It's just a story.'
"Good night, Catherine." Johnathan watched her as she left and then blew out the candle he had been using to read. He put the book on the desk an slipped under the covers of his bed. He tried to clear his mind so he could sleep, but thoughts of the story and their significance to Catherine haunted his mind.
'Could she possibly be.........Dragonian?'
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Post by Razgat on Jan 18, 2009 19:38:42 GMT -5
The next morning was filled with dark clouds and pouring rain. There were barely any customers that were already staying at the inn, so Catherine had little to do besides catch up on the laundary. She had been carrying a small load of cloaths she had collected through the upstairs hallway (second floor), on her way up to the third floor when she heard her mother talking to a group of people downstairs. She ran to the banister and peeked through the bars.
There were a group of four or five people wearing black cloaks. She could not see their faces, and they spoke in hushed tones. They seemed to be renting rooms for the week. One of them spoke out for the rest to Mrs. Capper. The others wer close by, but one was leaning against the wall. They had one leg propped up against the wall, and it was sticking out through her cloak. Catherine was surprised to see that it was almost bare and they wore black, strappy heels that seemed as sharp as knives. The strange woman glanced up towards the banister where Catherine had been and smiled. The woman's smile was malicious and taunting, and Catherine immediately stood up, grabbed her basket, and hurried with the laundary.
She never saw them after that. When she checked their rooms to clean them, they were perfectly neat and showed no signs that someone had been there. When the inn served breakfast in the diner downstairs, they never showed up. She began to wonder about why the woman had smiled at her like that, or how she had know she was there. Were the others like her? Were they friendly?
Catherine pushed these thoughts to the back of her mind. They were only customers. Once the week was over, she would never see them again.
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Post by Razgat on Jan 19, 2009 14:26:32 GMT -5
A few days had past, and nothing was seen of the cloaked figures who had been staying at the inn, but no one had any time on their hands to think about them. The inn had become full with many travelors. The town of Noori had began to prepare for their anual Red Moon Festival. This was an occasion that foccussed on the moon when it was at the center of the sky. It glowed a briliant red at this point and the stars were at their brightest. There was always a big bonfire that the whole town circled around. The town would gather all the young adults coming of age and split them into two groups, boys and girls. They would be sitted on opposite sides of the fire until the moon was nearly in the center of the sky.
The young men and women would be lined up and the girls would circle around the fire and begin to dance. The young boys would wait until the girls finished and then they would find their partner. They would all take turns dancing in the center of the croud, but when the moon glowed red, whichever couple was in the center got a special dance. It was said that the couple was destined to be together.
Catherine had been running around the town's market all day, looking for lovely flowers to decorate the inn with. She was filled with exitement because this year, she would be paired close to the time when the moon glowed red. The dancers were aranged by age, and the youngest and oldest were never in the middle when the moon turned red. Thiis year, she would be old enough to be in the middle because that day was also her birthday.
Catherine had just purchased a rather large basket of a disaray of flowers when a travelor from the inn recognized her. "Miss Capper! How are you today? Do you need any help with that bundle?"
Catherine turned to the travelor, trying to remember his name. He was in his mid 30's and had stubble on his face. He was dressed in normal attire, a plain shirt with long sleeves and some pants with traveling boots. "I'm fine, sir, but my name isn't Miss Capper. I'm not related to the woman who runs the inn."
The man looked puzzled, but continued to walk beside her. "Well, what should I call you, then?"
"My name is Catherine," she said, smiling up at him.
"Catherine, is it? That's a beautiful name. Well, if I can't help you with that bundle, do you mind if I walk you home?" He smiled back at her and held out his arm.
"That would be lovely!" She took his arm and they walked back to the inn together. Catherine thought he was a very nice man. If only she could remember his name.
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