In Jamion's Torpor*

To understand this next post you must understand that this is neither the beginning nor the end of my story. It is a part of something greater as most things are. You probably remember my post titled A Sneak Peak Courtesy of the Author, now titled Councils and Storms. This is another part of that story. This occurs after that post. The beginning of this post starts in the middle of the chapter I took it from. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Pictures to be added.

A loud shrill caw sounded from above. All of the demons immediately stopped attacking, took a knee, and bowed their heads. Leah scooted back onto her feet and into the center of the circle where the rest of the group was standing ready to fight, they were prepared to die but not without a fight. The shriek sounded again sending them to their knees covering their ears. Not even that helped. Paul’s nose began to bleed from the sound.

Three cloaked demons flew in and landed standing around the humans and elf. They stood fifteen feet tall. Their black cloaks were hooded and went straight to the ground and appeared to disappear into the forest floor. Their cloaks were opened, but seemed empty, except for the head. It was human in shape with beady red eyes, but that was all one could tell.

The cloaked demons started speaking to the beastly looking demons. The language wasn’t native to Sebat. It was full of clicks and shrieks. And other sort of noises some even impossible to be made by a human. At the same time the cloaks lifted up revealing nothing, but air. Another loud shrill and the horned demons turned back and ran into the forest. The cloaks floated back to a standing position and turned inwards towards the team.

Paul, stood. “Who in bloody hell are ya?” He yelled raising his axe. One of the cloaked demons screamed sending Paul flying fifteen feet through the air before he landed on his head. He laid there unmoving, blood trickled from his brow.

Jamion stood next. “We mean you no harm.”

Was that laughing?

“Look just let us know what you want with us. If-”

A bony arm formed out of thin air. A finger the length of two of Jamion’s fingers, but half the width was put over his lips quieting him.

The three cloaks surrounded Jamion and closed him in it. It was dark, true dark. There was only black, just black and nothing else. Jamion looked up six beautiful green eyes looked down into his. The darkness turned to light, bright powerful white blinding light. The eyes lowered themselves. Three naked winged women stood around Jamion. Were they goddesses? They didn‘t have any reproductive organs he noticed, no nipples even. One had pink wings, another red, and the third had white.

The first one spoke, “Jamion. My name is Dalia. Your wife was named for me.”

The second. “I am Naomi. The statue in the City of the Sun was erected in my name. I remember watching as you stared in awe. I was flattered.” Her red wings flapped softly forward covering her breasts. Then back revealing herself again.

“I’m Miriam. A city in Marini was named for me and,” she crossed her arms in a whining manner, “the unfortunate wife of King Nord as well,” said the one with white wings.

“So you’re not demons. Or are you?”

“No,” said Dalia.

“Then why hurt Paul?”

“That was Naomi, she has a bit of a temper. He will be fine. I promise,” Dalia assured. 

“Well what are you.”

“Angels. Warrior angels. We’ve brought you here, because this war is affecting more than just Calaprinia, Nord, and Marini. Soon Dest will be involved. The country Rin and its people will form armies and march into Southern Marini. The entire elven realm will bear arms. The entire world will be at war Jamion. That is unless you can stop it.

found on 1zoom.net

“It goes deeper as well. Those gods you called false in the dungeon are real. As real as your gods, our gods. I’ll have you know just denying them in our great lords names had them sending an army of demons our way.”

The white light surrounding Jamion started to form objects. A huge golden gate standing sixty feet high and eighty feet wide drew closer. An ivory wall went out in both directions as far as the eyes could see. The ground was made from smoothed diamond. A guard dressed in pure golden armor and crimson cloth opened the gate allowing the four in.

“Where are we? Is this- is this heaven?”

Miriam grabbed his hand and said, “Just wait until you can see it.”

“My eyes are open.”

Dalia grabbed his other hand and said, “Aye, but only the dead can see heaven. The ground a wall and a gate are not all our heavenly kingdom is made of.”

They took flight, at first it frightened Jamion. He was used to flying, but usually his trustworthy Frollin was under him or on the way to catch him. Naomi flew behind him; she reached forward grabbing an ankle. She could’ve easily flown to him but she acted as if she were climbing up his back stopping at his shoulders. “Over there is a garden, there are statues of the gods and even some lucky Calaprinian royalty, Valcian royalty, and Marinian royalty. And most Mackian Royalty.”

“Who?”

found on 1zoom.net

“Mak is a country on the other side of Dest. It was once a grand empire, It stretched over the desert that is now Dest, the Jungle area you now call Rin, of course it covered the entire coastal region you call home, even the arctic tundra. Everyone called themselves Mackian,” Naomi explained.

They stopped and simultaneously took their hands from him. He floated.

Dalia grabbed him and pressed her lips to his, she disappeared. Miriam turned him around and kissed him as well, she also disappeared. Naomi grabbed him and kissed him, she vanished. He floated in thin air. The three angels came back and wrapped their wings around him.

When they brought their wings back they were standing on a blood soaked battlefield. As if time was in reverse here people started to stand. They were in the center of a battle that was going backwards. Jamion began to recognize the area. They were in Miriam City’s central park. The city was burning, streets were flooded with blood. Time stopped.

“Why are you showing this to me?”

Dalia pressed her body against Jamion’s. “This is what’s to come if you don’t stop Nord.”

“And what if I can’t stop him?”

Depiction of a battle
found on 1zoom.net

“Then you must fight him when things escalate. This is just one of the battles we’ve foreseen.”

Miriam’s wings softly flapped as she walked. “It’s hard to tell though if they’ll all even happen. If only one will happen, but the one thing we know for sure is that this is avoidable, maybe.”

Those words confused Jamion.

Jamion
Property of http://fictio6nalescapes.blogspot.om

Jamion looked around the battle field. Demons of all different types were waving weapons around shouting war cries, winged demons were fighting with dragons. Armored angels in armor decended from the heavens wielding swords. He looked south towards the university. A small team dressed in Calaprinian uniform looked battle torn. A girl no older then thirteen was leading them.

Miriam continued. “Or heck,” she sighed, “maybe it’s not avoidable, but we, you have to try.”

“Daddy.” Jamion swore he heard his daughter’s voice. “So as soon as you wake up come see me.” Suddenly he missed his family.

Naomi walked up behind Jamion, she whispered into his ear, “Time to wake up.”

Assassin Part 2*

Author's notes: It's been a while since I've posted anyhting. I reread my first post title Assassin and decided to keep it going. So if you havent read that one yet you should read it before reading this. I also recommend rereading Assassin for those out there who have already read it. This will not be the final post in the Assassin series. I hope to have another posted by this time next week. Sorry I've been away so long. Hope you enjoy.

Assassin Part 2

Aiya, Sergio, and Scott stood around a terrain model of mud, dirt, and pebbles depicting the barracks compound. Using a stick Aiya drew a heart where she believed the Guard Captain’s quarters to be. She took a knee and began talking about the compound; she used her stick to point at areas of interest and to make an occasional ‘x’ where she suspected a heavy guard population to be located. Sergio interrupted his sister kicking the dirt map.

Aiya
Image found on google.com creator unknown

“After what you just did this morning do you really think that attacking Captain Gray is a good idea?”

“I took out the Ra Priest for that very reason, brother.”

“I’m not following.”

Scott explained, “Remember last year when the contracts for the Ra Priests started surfacing?”

“Aye, I remember,” Sergio said running a hand through his shoulder length hair, “get to your point.”

“Nobody expected any mercenary that lives inside Hiarlym’s walls or even all of Mak to carry out those contracts. They’ve been considered swept under the rugs. And now that Aiya has taken one of the priests out the rest will be heavily guarded. On top of that we’re in the clear I’m sure the guards suspect a merc did this.”

“So you think this will leave the captain ill protected.”

“That was the plan.”

“Wait you knew about-”

“Shh.” Aiya cautioned as she stood grabbing a bow and an arrow. She pointed towards a large tree which partially concealed an entrance into a flooded grotto. The three at an arms distance away from each other. Scott cracked his knuckles then clenched his fists. Sergio dual wielded daggers. Aiya stood in the center, her left leg forward, her left hand carried the bow still at her side while her right held the nocked arrow in the bowstring which had still yet to be tautened.

“Show yourself!” Sergio commanded.

The guard that Aiya had pushed over the wall emerged from behind the tree. In each hand he wielded a crossbow. He pointed one at Sergio, the other at Scott. Immediately Aiya readied the bow pulling the bowstring back and aiming in on the guard.

“No, no, no,” the guard said. “Put that-”

“You don’t tell me what to do. You put those down now!” Aiya shouted scaring a bird from its nest.

“Kill him Aiya!” Scott shouted.

The three continued yelling demands at each other. Sergio stood silently. He waited for the opportune moment to strike. The guard stayed vigilant, not once did he look away from the three assassins.

“Shut up all of you!” Sergio’s call demanded silence, and so it was received. “We can work out some sort of a deal. I’ve seen you at the market with your wife. You have a daughter. She’s about three, right?”

“You leave my family out of this sell-sword.”

“He thinks us mercenaries, cousins,” Scott laughed.

“I can’t let you kill my captain. The only deal you’re getting out of me is to be taken in alive. Just walk right back to the gate and turn yourselves in.”

“To be tortured and hanged. I think not,” Sergio attempted to debate. “Look you might kill two of us, but you’d end up dead as well. Now picture this,” Sergio paused, “what’s your name?”

“Lieutenant Grolif,” He stated.

“You pull those triggers and end my life and my little cousin’s life my sister will end your life-”

“I can’t allow you to kill Captain Gray.”

“Don’t interrupt me again Grolif. After she’s killed you she’ll see to it that your wife is buried with you if they can even find you. Your daughter will be an orphan. The captain will end up dead regardless.”

“So what are proposing here?”

“Put the crossbows down Grolif.”

To Aiya’s surprise he complied by throwing the crossbows behind him.

“He’s seen our faces. He has to die.” Scott stated

“Please no, oh gods what did I just agree to?”

Aiya stepped closer to her target. “We’ll put you some where they can find you. We’ll make it look like you died a hero, so your daughter can be proud of you.”

Sergio lowered Aiya’s arms. “We’re bringing him with us.”

“We’re doing what?” Scott asked argumentatively.

“If anyone knows the inside of those barracks it’s him. And according to our source the captain leaves for his meeting with the Emissary from Dest tomorrow morning so we have to get this done tonight, lives are counting on it.”

“What’re you talking about? Have you not been receiving the news, we’re currently at war with Dest. Why would Gray be meeting with anybody from that country?” Grolif asked.

“Damn,” Aiya said, “Gray is one sneaky bastard. His lieutenants don’t even see what he’s up to. He’s getting paid off by a Dest Emissary to leak information from troop numbers to legion movements and even the dragon patrol routes. Next month he’ll be promoted to Legate and have even more information to give.”

“You guys are out of your damn minds. Gray is loyal to the king beyond any man I know. And dragons, those creatures haven’t been around in nearly a century.”

Scott wiped away the terrain map. “You are stupid, aren’t you? I’m nineteen and I know the stories of the riders are true. I’ve met Tulaq and Yufi. The dragons are back my blind friend.”

“Whatever, let’s get going.”

“I give the orders around here Grolif,” Sergio said. “We’ll show you the proof of treason when we get to our den.”

“How is there proof?”

“Believe it or not we know how to intercept letters, and eavesdrop,” Aiya said, “It’s what we’re trained to do.”

Back inside the walls the four entered the bakery and walked up the stairs. Scott opened the door to the Assassins’ den letting the other three in first. The room was a wide open space equipped with training equipment and couches for relaxing. A kitchen was on the far side of the room; a man and a pregnant woman prepared a large meal even though they were the only people in the den.

The woman walked towards Sergio, kissing him when she reached him. “I was worried sick about you.” She looked towards Aiya, “You too. You’re still just a baby to me. I remember changing your diapers when I was your age.”

“I know Teagan. You seem to remind me more and more the closer you get to shoving that baby out. But we’re still busy Teagan. Do you know where Sloan is?”

“She’s in her room sweetheart.”

“Show Grolif around will you and send for his family,” Sergio asked of Aiya. She replied with a nod.

“How young are you?” Grolif asked Aiya.

“I’ll be seventeen in five days.” Aiya grabbed Grolif by his hand.  “C’mon you have letters to see.”

They entered one of the many doors on the left side of the den. Five bunk beds and one single bed filled the room. A girl no older than ten years old sat on the single bed reading a book titled Victoria’s Realm, a book Grolif only read as required reading when he was in the military’s university. Her legs dangled inches away from the floor. The girl bookmarked the page before looking up.

“Who’s the guy Aiya?”

“Someone I almost killed Sloan. Do you have those letters nearby?”

“I wouldn’t keep them anywhere else. Which one do you want?”

“Any letter that proves Gray’s treason will do just fine.”

“Oh I intercepted this one just this morning. It should suffice. Will you give it to Sergio when you’re done with it? Make sure I get it back.”

“No problem Sloan.” Aiya skimmed the letter then handed it to Grolif.

“Sloan go and grab your brother for me. I have an errand for me.”

“Aww man, why can’t I do it? I’m just as good as he is at errands.”

“It won’t be any fun, trust me.”

“So it really is true. What I don’t understand though is why do a group of mercenaries care about this.”

“One: we’re not mercs, we’re assassins. Two: you already know way to much about us and if it were up to me you’d be dead so enough with the questions.”

“When do I get to see my family?”

“When Michael gets here I want you to tell him your address. He’ll run and get your wife and kid. You’ll be staying with us until Sergio comes up with a plan and we don’t want your wife going to your chain of command when you don’t come home tonight.”

“This room is where you’ll be staying. Sloan is the room officer so you’ll have to do as she says when in here, but keep in mind that you can feel free to spend time in the den. Welcome to your new home Grolif.” Aiya took the letter back and walked to where her brother and cousin were sitting.

“I’ve got some urgent news guys,” Aiya said as she handed the letter to Sergio.

“What is it?” Scott asked.

A Warrior's Motivation*

The beach sand was drenched in the blood of the fallen. the sky was orange and pink to the east, dark blue to the west, and in the middle above the sky was a beautifully eerie clash of colors stained with scavanger birds. Hungry and growing impatient the vultures and crows above began descending while the victors remained on the battle field collecting their dead and wounded. A vulture which was turned red with the blood of its frehly dead meal ate unaware of what walked towards him.

Nocking arrow to bow Perci took aim. He stopped; planting his feet into the ground he released the arrow. It flew straight cutting through the death clenched air. A second later the vulture fell to the ground twitching as it died from the arrow piercing its neck. Perci knelt next to his fallen comrade. 

The man who lay dead next to Perci, clad in leather armor around the waist, shins, and forearms, had been stabbed through his unprotected gut and sliced deeply in his chest. "Taamoiis, you fool. You weren't supposed to die yet. Well come here," Perci said as he picked Taamois' lifeless body up from the sand, "the collector's will see you home to your wife. You once told me it was unwise to talk with a dead man. I hope you were wrong friend. I'll send note back with you for Craddais and his sons that your grave is to be near your father's at your estate and not in the village’s cemetery."

Perci finished walking back to the camp and laid Taamoiis on the wagon with the fifty or so other fallen men of his army.

"You knew this man lord," asked a collector.

"Ha, yes I knew him. We suckled from the same tit. His mother was my nurse maid... many years ago," Replied Perci.

"My condolences lord."

"The title is Commander, collector, but thank you." Perci dipped his quill, which he kept as close to him as his dagger, in the blood of one of his own wounds and wrote on Taamoiis' leather. "Ensure the grave keeper reads that message when you return him to Chorian."

Perci turned to his men who were busy tending to their wounds and praying for the friends which they had lost. His beard was curly, long, and brown with gray scattered throughout. His eyes were green and surrounded with sleeplessness, a scar adorned the right side of his face surrounding his eye like a crescent moon. His hair touched the tops of his shoulders still pressed from the helmet and sweat.

He was adorned in Black leather armor. His chest piece was braided; the braids weaved from the edges and snaked towards the left side of his chest where the braids were tied to a circular steel plate with eight rings on the outside of it. The steel plate immortalized the face of his wife; gold fell from the top of her head depicting her blonde hair. The rest of his armor matched the braided leather and fully covered him overlapping at joints to allow for more fluid movement.

Although his body armor was leather his helmet and shield were both steel, forged from the same fire at the same armory where his chest plate was forged. The shield and helmet both depicted different parts of the same battle. The shield depicted his great grandfather's army shielding themselves from the onslaught of a barbarian horde. His helmet is to be read from the wearer’s right side around the back and to the left. It began with an epic battle depicting his great grandfather's army slaughtering hordes of barbarians until the last one was killed. Directly in the center of the back was his great grandfather stood beheading a barbarian chief. Continue reading and you see peace that eventually ends with the grounding of his families flag on the ground of what is now Chorian.

Perci

Perci's men stood in front of him. They were looking at their Commander who was holding his helmet lazily as blood dripped onto it from a slowing bleed. Perci watched them looking at him as they waited for him to speak. For the first time since he was a boy he was nearly brought to tears. He had never lost so many men in battle and never a man so close to him as Taamois.

He lifted his war hammer. "My Warriors!" He yelled as loudly as he could. "We've entered Hell. Those mountains to my back are the supposed back walls of Hell." The range he spoke of was still a three days march away and that would be without the barbarian forces blocking their way.

He continued, "For the first time since our ancestors built Chorian, Miklahid, and Gorf on the outskirts of the barbarian lands we venture further into the barbarian's territory. For years they've ransacked our villages, stolen our cattle like the dogs they are, on occasion raped our women, and killed our children or worse have stolen them."

Perci threw his massive war hammer into the ground so that the hammer stuck into the ground and the handle pointed towards the heavens. "Tomorrow we move deeper into these cursed lands, as we move south away from the ocean we go into a land in which no civilized being has returned from fully limbed. We don't know what evil magic awaits us. We don't know if the Gods will favor us; they've long forbidden us going into the forsaken lands, but the agony the people who live within them have caused us has finally called for blood. We still have much to conquer and if today was a taste of what's to come ahead we may not come back." The crowd roared.

"Those girly men that call themselves Intruian senators have refused to send us aid in our war. We will show those politicians with blood or victory what it means to love and protect ones home. As our wives long for our return our blades and arrows and spears will keep them safe. As our sons play among the pastures we will trample the pastures of our enemy. As our daughters pick tulips in our gardens we will set fire to the barbarian's. As our elders pray for our safety, our ferocity will challenge the gods to stand with us in battle."

Perci looked at the pile of bodies that swelled behind him. "Tonight warriors," he cried, "drink and eat to the fullest. For tomorrow we kill them all!"  

Grimly Afraid

"Myra, I'm going down the street to grab some coffee, you want anything?" A thin, gray haired, sorrow eyed man yelled from the front door of his downtown apartment to his wife who was just exiting a steam filled bathroom.

"Iced soy latte please. Thank you John," She replied as she ran naked from the bathroom to the towel closet in the hallway just past their teenage son's bedrrom.

John shut the door behind him and mumbled to himself, "Damn woman likes everything hot except for her coffee."

He walked down the hall to his building's only elevator, it only fit four people and that's only if two of them were young children. The narrow hallways made him claustrophobic, and in the old fading paint he saw all the things he feared come to life, he shrugged it off not understanding this new found paranoia.

John made it to the elevator and pressed the down arrow turning it red, he watched as blood oozed from the button. He blinked and the blood was gone, just the red light shining through the plastic arrow in the button remained. Ding! The elevator door opened. A pitbull jumped up onto its hind legs barking at John while its owner pulled back on the leash laughing at John. The owner was shirtless with a beer in his other hand; he was covered in tattoos of skulls, dogtags, and rifles.

John jumped back and began breathing heavily, his heart dropped, and he would have sworn his life just flashed before his eyes. "I'll use the stairs," he said putting one hand in front of him as he stumbled to his left. He ran down the three stories to the ground floor hoping to beat the elevator.

Ding! John stopped in his tracks, the elevator was between him and the exit. He had watched a pitbull kill a boy back where he used to live. This image began to repeat itself over and over in his head. A young polish boy, his best friend and fellow adventurer, ran jumping fences not daring to look back as the dog chased them snarling and barking. There was a small opening in a chainlinked fence in front of them that other kids had made with bolt cutters, John ran through it slicing his left shoulder (he still has the scar). His friend jumped onto the fence, but the pitbull was fast to grab the boy's leg.

The dog who was later killed by an older boy continued to bite into the screaming boy until he stopped screaming. John yelled at the dog from the other side of the fence to stop as he screamed for help. A group of teenage boys nearby were smoking cigarettes leaning up against a 1960 cherry-red Austin-Healy and one of them saw what was going on. He quickly ran to the help the kid while another friend went to a nearby store to call for help. The older boy stabbed the dog in the back of the neck splitting its spine in two, but it was too late, the young Polish boy was lifeless.

A young girl stepped outs of the elevator, not a shirtless titan of a man. She was holding a puppy, a black lab. She saw John by the stairs and asked, "Are you okay Mr. Edwin." He didn't reply, he only stood there. "Mr. Edwin. Hello John. Anyone home up there?" She asked tapping the side of his head.

"Oh hi Kristen. Yeah I'm fine I uh."

"You sure you don't need anything I can go get Mrs. Edwin. You don't seem fine."

"No Kristen I'm good, I just had a bad memory resurface is all. Tell your parents I said hi when you get back from your walk."

"Will do if you tell Eric hi for me," She replied with a wink. "Oh and Happy Halloween." The young girl turned around placing the not so sure footed puppy on the ground. The young dog slipped as it ran to keep with its owner.

"Uh, Yeah you too, happy Halloween."

John Followed Kristen out of the apartment building, but turned right instead of left like she had. He found his way into the middle of a crowd of flowing people and his senses seemed hightened. He was aware that the lady next to him was wearing the same cologne that he wore back in the 1970s all through high school and college and that a bum sitting on the street curb had four kittens tucked into his jacket keeping them warm. A man bumped into him as they passed each other and as if a switch in his brain had been turned on he began to worry.

He was unsure of what he was worry about, but it soon became clear to him that something wasn't right. About twenty feet in front a man tapped a woman on her left shoulder as he walked around her on the right side. He blinked and the woman turned into a man. And when the woman turned into a man he looked back to his left. A hooded figure punched the man in the face forcing him to look down and to the right where, suddenly he wasn't in the city anymore.

He was in his old neighborhood watching another shakedown. A hooded figure punched the man in the face forcing him to look down and to the right where a pistol slowly pressed against his forehead. The hooded man went through the victims pockets and took everything. Bang! Blood flew everywhere and the man fell to the floor lifeless.

He was back in the city. The man turned back into a young woman who to her surprise saw a hooded man pointing to the ground in front of her. She turned foreward to see a young man on one knee in front of her. John couldn't make out what was happening, but it soon became clear.

The young woman jumped up and down in joy as she screamed, "I will! I will! I will!"

The young man placed the ring on his fiances finger and the two kissed as many looked on in a circle around them applauding the love of two strangers. John though couldn't stop looking around. It was as if he were being followed.       

Walking through the crowd and down two more blocks proved uneventful until he entered the coffee shop. It was empty. An eerie empty. This place was usually packed, but not this morning. There were three people in the shop. One barista stood at the register while another two strung black and orange decorations all over the inside of the coffee shop.

He walked to the counter to order his coffee. The girl at the register smacked her gum together occasionally twirling it in a finger as she hit the buttons on the register, "One black coffee and a loarge Soy-"

She was cut off when a teenage boy with guaged earlobes and a purple mohawk pushed John out of the way, "This'll only be a second old man."

John knew what was coming next. He was twenty five years old waering the white polo with the shell emblem on it standing behind the counter collecting money from the cute red haired green eyed Tracy Adams.

"Move," A man pushed the girl to her feet and grabbed John by the collar as he held a knife to his throat demanding the money in the registar. John fumbled as he managed to take the entire drawer from the register and handed it over to the thief. Tracy hit her head as she fell to the ground and had to take an ambulance to the hospital and John was fired that night.

John punched the kid square in the jaw sending him to the floor. A folded note fell from his hands as he went down.

"Oh my God!" The girl at the register yelled. "Stop it, that's my boy friend you idiot."

Several minutes later John was outside explaining to the police why he struck the teenage boy in the face. The kid helped John explain to the police the entire situation and how it was all just a big misunderstanding. The barista gave John his coffees for free after everything had calmed down.

John was feeling better now that he had his coffee and was on his way back to his apartment building. He turned to open the door to his building and just as he looked up he saw a black cloaked figure with a pointed hood. "I told you I'd get you, haha," A familiar voice came from the cloak.

John dropped his wif'es coffee and stumbled backwards tripping over a bike rack and he fell into the road. Eric threw his hood off and ran towards his father. "Dad!"

To this day John swears thats Eric's black cloak turned white and his scythe turned to wings and the hand that reached out was only using his son's body.

Eric grabbed his father's wrist and pulled him back onto the sidewalk just as a fast moving bus whizzed by them. Eric helped his father to the ground and offered him a bottle of water. John wiped the sweat from his brow as he tried to slow his breathing and stop his heart from coming out of his chest. He felt like both hugging his son as well as beating him. Soon his vision wasn't so narrowed and he could stand again.

John wrapped one arm around his son as they walked back to the apartment and said, "Son you're the first good thing I've seen all day."

           

Councils and Storms*

  -Before you read what is below I will let you in on a little something. The characters and story you see written below you aren't like my other fictional escape characters and stories. This story is only a chapter to something much greater. These characters hold a special place in my heart, some more so than others, but what writer doesn't have favorites? I hope you enjoy what you are about to read.- 

        Your Royal Elven Highness, Queen Lyla,

Leah
Picture property of http://fictionalescapes.blogspot.com

I feel the pressing urge to write to you explaining the horrible cause for my ordering of the kidnapping your youngest child. It has been brought to my attention that during the rescue of Prisoner Jamion of Calaprinia your services were rendered in his aide. I ask that you return the murderous traitor in trade for your daughter. If you choose to not return Jamion yet exile him from your realm with the written promise to myself that you will never render him aide for as long as he lives nor his children or grandchildren I will return you your daughter a defiled daughter. If you choose to keep him safe I will be forced by newly written law to behead her and not give her proper burial.

In case you wonder what the law is. It is written in the Punishment for Treason Vol. 2, page 658, paragraph 2. It states: Any man or woman who does not comply with the wishes of Nordian Royalty in matters concerning national security hence forfeit the right to life and of a proper burial. Any barters or negotiations in which Nordian Royalty allows his subject(s) to enter into will be done smoothly and within the realm of Nordian Royalty’s wishes and commands.

I expect a messenger on my doorstep with either Jamion in custody or a written compliance to exile Jamion from your realm within two weeks time. That is when I fetch for your daughters return to Nord and consequences taken whether they be simple exchange, defile and return, or the capital punishment for treason against Royal Majesty King Nord.

x. His Royal Majesty King Nord

“He’s brought nothing, but war and its horrible death to our doorstep. You’d think he’d be more of a help than a burden to our people. It was through our doing that he was rescued in the first place.” Darrian, the elven general’s eldest son and member of the Half Elven War Council spoke out against Jamion at the weekly meeting in Her Majesty’s chamber.

“How could you be so unfair, Darrian you appall me. Is he not the man searching for my sister at this very moment,” Love said lashing back.

Queen Lyla sat at the end of the table listening to the heated debates spreading like wildfire across her table.

“Like I said earlier, Princess. If not for Jamion she would have never been taken like this. You don’t kidnap royalty unless the ransom is royal itself.”

“So you would give into the demands of this sickening note Nord sent to us.” She scowled waving the oil stained parchment that was Nord’s letter.

“Better Jamion’s blood be on my hands then that of Princess Leah. Can you, her very sister, not see that? You’re a blind fool if you can’t.”

“How dare you speak to me-” Love calmed herself. “I love my sister far more than the lot of your brothers and father could ever love this entire tribe. Kingdom. Realm even. I trust in Jamion and his team. Is Dalia not the descendant of King Edward the very brother to our Queen Eve. Our two people belong together in harmony. And after all these thousands of years you wish to tear it in half and throw it all away. King Paua would turn in his grave.”

“Then let him turn,” The general interrupted the princess’s history lesson. “Let the dust that was once his body toss and turn until it is pure flesh and blood once again.” He paused, rubbing his head. “You must understand Your Highness that the life of one elven princess is worth a thousand King’s of Calaprinia. And technically the country does not exist. So Jamion and Dalia are naught but the Royal family that managed to lose a five thousand year old kingdom in the blink of an eye.”

Master Mage Longmire interrupted, “Now general that’s not fair to say. They were attacked on two fronts and fought relentlessly for years before the loss of the war, which was stolen from them a year after the treaty had been signed. Now as for the business of the present,” Longmire continued addressing Lyla, “Your Highness. I have spent sleepless nights trying to sight Jamion with far vision. Ever since they entered the sea storm I have not been able to watch him. I believe he may be a dead man at sea. Yet even if he is alive how can we contact him. So the real problem here is to get Nord to hand over the princess without the knowledge or whereabouts of Jamion.”

Lyla pushed her chair back and stood up slamming her balled fist onto the table, sending bits of golden dust flying from the table and slowly resettling. “Master Mage you tell me you can’t find Jamion and you think he is dead. Yet your far vision hasn’t been able to spot my daughter since the night you so graciously came from the Pearl City. What was that, three days after her capture? So do you think she is dead?”

“No your Majesty, I do not,” Longmire admitted. Even though his blood was pure elven, he respected the queen.

“Then can you honestly tell me and my council that you think Jamion is dead, because your vision fails you yet again. Is it possible that Jamion is in the same area as my daughter and away from your line of sight?”

“Yes Ma’am. That is a possibility, but a human out of my reach is not likely either, they‘re far easier to reach. Your Majesty we should tell King Nord that Jamion left that night out of guilt. Shame.”

Love looked at the Master Mage rolled her eyes and blew out a long steady breath. “And what will we tell him when she returns and he finds out Jamion and the others are out looking for her? What then sir?”

“We simply say we had not the slightest idea of the man’s intentions.”

“No!” shouted the queen. “I am no liar not even to my enemies. Giving Jamion up to Nord is out of the question.” She grabbed her ink and a piece of parchment. She scribbled for a few seconds, folded the paper and tossed it to the general. “Take that to the damned fool.”

Ronald read the letter aloud: “This is war you ignorant fool.” He shook his head. “Your Majesty, must we resort to such a temper when the life of our princess, your youngest daughter, is at stake.”

“He kidnapped my child for heaven’s sake! Yes, I will be blunt with the man!” She sat in her chair, rested her arms on the table and sighed. “Have that message delivered immediately. Spare no time telling Nord just how we stand.”

“We,” shouted the general. “I will not have more of my men lost to this foolish, pointless war.”

“We will do as our queen orders, general. Or do I need to find another person to lead my men into battle. For Leah’s life, do as I tell you and I’ll not hear another word of disagreement from any of my staff do you understand me.” The queen was harsh, harsher than anybody, even her closest subjects, had ever heard her before.

As the members of the Military Council and the master mage exited, Love walked to her mother’s seat to comfort her. “Mother, Leah will be safe. I know it in my heart Jamion will not rest before she is found and safe. Every morning he grows closer to finding her. I know it.”

Queen Lyla
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“I just hope you’re right, dear.” A tear rolled down her face. “I love her so, very much. I love you all. It was hard enough to lose a husband and then have your brother join that school in Aurora City and I’ll be damned before I see my children pass before I do. Damned,” she finished in a whisper, a shallow cry almost. Regaining her composure she said, “Do those blasted fools who lead my men into battle not see that Nord is trying to rip us apart. Never in the history of our people have I heard or known an elf with such fragile ties and bonds. Could you imagine what our Great King would think of this blasphemy?”

“No mother I cannot. And I will not even allow you to think of inviting Great King Asher into this mess.”

“Oh Love, we will see. He may be our only hope. Can you be off to your business now?  I wish to sleep, dear.”

“Yes mother,” Love said, her hand slowly relieving her mother’s forearm as she backed away, nearly in tears as well.

She walked briskly to her room in the tower. Leah’s room was just to the right of hers. It usually was bright with pink and yellow fairies floating about everywhere. Not now. No, it was dark and plagued with quiet, dark emptiness.

As she walked past her sister’s room she felt the warmth of her sister’s embrace, though she knew it wasn’t there. There was nothing there and had been for over a month now.

She entered her own room. Rascal, her pet chipmunk, stood on his hind legs over her head board. “What trouble have you been into today Rascal? Giving the girls a run for their nuts I suppose.” She laughed, knowing the animal hadn’t the slightest idea what she’d said. But, besides Leah, he was her best friend.

She sat at her desk; Rascal joined her cuddled on her thigh. “I’ll show that damned Longmire a thing or two about the far-sight of the third vision, Rascal.” She took a dried sunflower petal and crushed it with a petal of dried dragonscale, a flower that bloomed only at night and only on islands that floated with their tops above the great sea and their bottoms beneath it.

She put the dried mix of flowers onto a saucer and added a drop of liquid that was from a mix of one cup water and one of her own tears. She used her index finger to stir the mix together. What she wanted to see most is what she would see if the watched party was either willing or unaware of the magic. In this case it was probably both.

“Jamion,” she spoke out loud to herself and Rascal, “Let me see you.” She dipped her finger into the dry leafy mix and licked it, swallowing. Her face cringed at the taste. She closed her eyes and concentrated on Jamion.

Love
Picture property of http://fictionalescapes.blogspot.com

He sat high in a crow’s nest on a tall ship welcoming the salty sea air as they pushed north into dangerous waters. A storm was on the northern horizon. This storm would bring snow, hail and fifty foot high waves. It would test them, but it stood between the ship and Leah so that was the route they’d take.

An unexpected sight for the crew, Farra emerged from the water and circled the boat a few times and then flew north and a bit eastward as if she were leading them. It puzzled Love as to why Leah and Farra weren’t together, but she accepted it. No journey was without obstacles along the way.

Tony and Paul were at the helm arguing playfully about who should take the helm. The whole world would know by the looks of them that Paul was bred for such a task and that Tony hadn’t the slightest idea for life at sea. Zack held onto a mast at the head of the ship and looked north towards his secret love, Leah.

It had been two days of clear sailing since they left the tropical islands behind. They sailed fast. The winds were with them and Frollin had the anchor chain in his mouth pulling the boat as fast as he could to get to Leah.

Another day passed and rain began to drizzle on and off. Another day it began to get noticeably colder, the sky greyed and a steady rain saw them properly wet. On the last morning of the trip to the Arctic Circle a storm broke.

It was wild. No ordinary sailor would dare try these waters in this storm, but these weren’t ordinary sailors. They were tried and true, tested through, blood spilling pirates who everyday had to prove their weight against a man a third their own size. They didn’t just weather the storm, they welcomed it, challenging it head on. And they did so beautifully. As if the storm were naught but a sneaky gust of strong wind on a clear day.

Then it began to hail. They stayed their posts, most of them bruised and bloodied. Punishment for fighting fifty foot swells in a hail storm, but it was how they earned their keep. It was how they proved to one another that they belonged in this brother hood. Paul and Captain Rummy stayed in the elements shouting orders and steering the helm.

Tony had his eyes glued to the window amazed at the pride and joy these low-lifers had in sailing and overcoming Mother Nature herself. Every pirate knew that’s where a true treasure was buried, in the eye of the storm.

Zack cupped his mug of tea in both hands to stay warm. The expression on his face was dull, lifeless. But it wasn’t the weather, no. He had been like this since they set out to find Leah from the tropical island.

Concerned Jamion finally broke the silent lid on the topic. “What’s been bothering you so much lately, friend?”

“Oh me,” Zack replied after a few seconds. “It’s nothing. Getting old is all.”

“You’re three months younger than I am, we’re not old. We’re forty. So really, what’s bugging you?”

“Can you leave it be?” Zack finished his cup and filled it to the brim with rum seized from the other side of the world. He took a swig. It burnt as it went down his throat, but he liked it and liked the way he’d feel after the cup was finished and dry.

“No,” Jamion said firmly, “I will not let it go.” He calmed his speech. “You’re a member of my team, I need you on your toes and I don’t need you to fret. And I‘m your friend you can tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Ah, James. You think I won’t be swifter than a hawk on the kill, do you?” He said rhetorically. “After all we’ve been through together. Fifteen years of fighting side by side, imagine it’d been longer if you didn’t go and get yourself imprisoned. Tell you what James that rescuing you I did last year weren’t the only missions I worked out over the last five years. I didn’t go and forget how to fight.”

“I never thought you had friend, wouldn’t dare imply such a thing. Honestly I believe I know what’s bothering you, what with all the gallivanting you’ve been doing with her this last year. I’m not blind, just wanted to hear it from your own mouth.”

Tony looked back from rain battered window. “Her? What’s this talk?”

Jamion looked at his little brother. Thirty five years old and still just as nosy as the day he was born. “You mind taking off for a bit let us talk in private.”

His mouth dropped and head cocked. “You want me to go out there in that? Three waves have washed clear over the deck and they’ve all came from different directions. How in the hell would you expect me to survive that.” 

“Hold on to something. I was asking you to walk downstairs, Tony. Don’t want to go and explain to Sara how I let you die in a storm.” He snapped his elbow straight and pointed to the hatch in the floorboard leading to the winery.

“Oh go and get drunk. Tell me when I’m allowed back in… Y’majesty,” He added jokingly.

“Look,” Zack sighed as the word came out. “Just because Tony’s not in here, doesn’t mean I’m gonna spill my guts to you.”

He wanted to. He desperately wanted to tell his best friend about the feelings he had towards the elven queen’s youngest daughter. But there was that law, that stupid law: No Half Elf of half human and half elf will reproduce with any other race whether it be human or elf or dwarf; we will forever maintain are balance of half elf half human. He remembered the law to the tee. It went on to say something such as: our race will allow any mix of half elf and half human that is newly come to join are happy and blessed people… But that wasn’t the important part, it was the first part that concerned him.

“If it’s Leah that has turned your eyes to stars you could bring her home. That law only applies within the elven realm. You could bring her to Calaprinia.” Jamion threw an educated guess into the air.

“You know me to well Ja-” They were tossed from the seats when the ship was abruptly forced directly on its side. Everything that was not tied down or locked in a cupboard fell from one side of the cabin to the other. Tony yelled from the ‘liquor locker’ as they had grown to call it.

“Man overboard!” A voice called from outside.

“It’s the helmsman!” Another yelled.

Another powerful wave smashed into the front of the boat. The mast holding the crow’s nest cracked in half, splintering horribly. The crow’s nest fell forward slicing jaggedly through a sail. It crashed hard onto the deck splintering where it had landed. Wooden shrapnel flew in various directions. Still the pirates fought mercilessly against all odds.

When the ship became somewhat stable and Jamion was able to stand upright again he put a hand on Zack’s shoulder. “Go check on Tony, Paul’s overboard.” Jamion burst out into the wild weather. He ran to Bootless Bill a strapping young pirate who was always barefoot. “Which way is Paul?”

“He flew off the port side. I’d imagine he’s gone and dead to the storm-” another wave crashed onto the deck.

Captain Rummy shouted orders as he took over the helm. It was dark. Rain and hail showered the icy seas and the ship along with it mercilessly. Lightning bolted out from the sky above. Thunder roared tirelessly.

Frollin, where are you? Jamion asked as he ran portside and jumped into the icy cold water below. Before he was halfway down the side of the ship a wave caught him midair and threw him into the side of the boat.

We’re above the clouds where it’s sunny. There was no reply. Frollin looked at Farra and they dove. Lightning crashed into the bodies of the beasts sending sparks flying off of them. As soon as they were through the clouds Frollin and Farra saw the two bodies floating in the sea.

Farra dove towards a frightened Paul. Frollin dove towards Jamion who appeared lifeless and sinking, being tossed in the storm like a rag doll. At this time Jamion and the ship had separated by more than a quarter mile. Paul was even further. A wave hit Frollin in the back as he dove with wings by his side. Even the powerful dragon was pushed helplessly into the roaring waters.

After regaining himself Frollin looked around the icy water for his rider. There he was just coming to. Jamion kicked up towards oxygen. The waves continued to keep him under the water. Frollin dodged iceberg after iceberg until he finally came under Jamion and secured him in the saddle.

A rush of warmth overtook him. He was breathing. He now shared vision with his dragon and searched for Paul. They flew above the water still searching until they saw Farra floating in the water clenching onto a body.

Love sat in her bedroom viewing this terrible sight in her mind. She spoke words of the ancient elven tongue, magical words. Rascal Jumped from her thigh and ran under her bed. The mirror in her room turned to water and drenched her desk. The flame from her candles blew in all different directions. Thunder roared and a bolt of lightning shot from candle to candle.

The sky began to clear. Waves calmed. The temperature rose. Dumfounded, yet accepting Jamion flew in towards the unconscious Farra and Paul. With both talons extended Frollin Picked the duo up. Frollin sat Farra and Paul above the helm, an area not destroyed by the storm.

The ragged group of pirates cheered at the return of good weather and the brave Jamion and Paul. Even Rummy found himself shouting “Hoorays” and clapping.

Paul stood and ran to the unconscious Farra’s face. “Don’t die. Leah will have my head if she finds out you died saving me.”

Jamion jumped from Frollin to the helm’s deck. He touched Farra and she stirred.

“Oye, thank the gods,” Paul sighed. “She’s hurt, she might need to lay here a while, but she’s gonna come around.” He looked into one of her silver eyes. “Thank you.”

As the sun shined down on the crew they continued north while fixing the deck. They tossed unusable wood into the ocean below and lowered the torn sail. It was their sail. The jagged line ripped through the body of their mermaid.

Tony had gotten a horrible knot on his head from a bottle of gin that flew across the liquor locker. He sat upright when his brother entered the cabin. “Heard you nearly drowned trying to save Paul.”

“Probably more of a foolish decision then anything. I just jumped over board and got smashed into the side of the ship.” Jamion poured four glasses of scotch for his team from a bottle that survived the terrible storm.

“Much obliged,” Paul said, his thick northern accent breaking through as he took the glass from Jamion. “Don’t suppose someone was watching after us do you. I mean the way that storm just stopped was beyond miraculous. Those clouds extended further than the eye could see in any direction.”

Zack sat in a wooden chair with wheels on the legs. He rolled himself back and forth. “Maybe. We’ve gotten lucky in the past, but never like that. I never saw a storm that big in my entire life. What do you make of it James?”

“Can’t rightfully say. Either the gods have finally taken a liking towards us or there’s a mage somewhere who likes us. I sometimes think it’d be nice to conjure something out of nothing. Lucky bastards.”

The four continued to talk the day away until night fell and they let sleep take their bodies over.