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Writing Journey (working title) PG-13 (VL)


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[COLOR=RoyalBlue]

?Larien! Slow down!" The little boy was racing down the road far ahead of his mother, his dirty brown hair blowing in the breeze. He turned to face her, breathless and giggling, and was surprised to see a stern look on her face. He immediately slowed and fell into step with her, his gaze falling to the ground.

He knew better than to worry her, but he just couldn't contain his excitement. He was finally being allowed to the market! Most days he had to stay at home, inside, and away from the windows. Why he wasn't sure, but his mother had said something about the men that often patrolled the streets. They carried various weapons, and a large shield with the symbol of the king, Rydal. They would sometimes stop and talk with people, laughing and smiling, he didn't see why they were so dangerous. Most of the time however, they would hurry out of his village, as did most others.

The village sat about a mile south of Kitsen, a large and elegant coastal city, which had been built in order to defend the merchant's district from pirates and raiders. The organized streets and buildings were surrounded by a thick outer wall, which was constantly patrolled by archers and guards. Inside was the market, filled with shops and peddlers? carts, behind the great city stood the brilliant mansions of the merchants and traders. The only city in all of Roeth more beautiful was the capital.

In contrast the little village in which he lived was nothing but a cluster of crooked fisherman shacks. It was randomly criss-crossed by sloppy gravel roads, often muddy from the sea's storms, and ditches filled with stagnant water and trash. As such it was look down upon by the rich of the larger cities. Even the ragged and weary travelers would often add another day to their journey just to avoid it.

?Mama, what's wrong? Why did we stop?" said the boy.

?We're waiting for more people to pass before we go inside."

?Why?"

?It's just? Well because that's the way we have to do it."
?Why?"

?Because, dear. Now please hush." They waited for what seemed like an eternity. After awhile another large caravan could be seen making its way slowly up the road.

?Keep a tight hold on my hand and follow me. Try to be quiet, please?" He nodded.

When the group had gotten closer, his mother suddenly sidestepped and began walking along with the crowd. The little boy was somewhat confused, but at least now they were moving again. When they reached the gate the group stopped. A guard appeared at the top.

?State your business." He seemed bored. Someone near the front of the group yelled back to him,

?We're craftsmen from the north, sah! Here for trade!"
?Very well."

The gates began to creak and whine, as they slowly swung open. Once they were all inside the city, the great gates began to close. They were only on the very edges of the city, but the streets were still bustling with people. As the rest of the caravan moved ahead, Larien and his mother stepped into a narrow side street. They followed mazes of twists and turns, until finally, at the far end of one of the streets, it opened into the huge market, filled with throngs of people.

The boy's excitement rose again. He could see bunches of other children running and playing in the square. He began to run, but his mother quickly grabbed his arm.

?Wait!" she said urgently. Realizing she may have been too harsh she calmed down. "You have to be careful here, okay?"

?Why?" Larien asked. His mother sighed.

?I know you don?t understand," she said to him, sinking down to look into his eyes, "but you need to listen carefully. There are people in the world now who don't like our kind, they're afraid of us. They'll take you away if they find out our secret."

?Afraid of us? What do you mean mama?" She sighed.

?You'll understand better when you're older. Just stay close to me, and listen to what I tell you. You'll be just fine." She smiled at him softly and kissed his forehead as she stood. She took his hand again as they stepped out into the crowd, heading for the small herbal shop where his mother worked.

Inside there were plants of every color, and for every use. Greens, reds, oranges, even some blues and blacks. The variety of plants was amazing. He'd never seen so many in one place. His mother broke him out of his awe with a gentle tug on his hand as she walked towards the back of the building. They headed for a small door on the back wall, barley visible behind all the plants and ivy.

This room was a lot less interesting. It had plain white walls a low ceiling, and a cold, tiled floor. It almost reminded him of a box, but for the pair of large double doors off to the side. The old herbalist, Adela, was standing at the doors, quietly talking to one of the guards, who appeared to be off duty. When she heard them come in she quickly said goodbye to the man.

?You're late Riena." she said to them bluntly, without so much as a glance, "I've already had some customers today, catch the records up." With that she walked out of the room, into the front of the shop. Larien had already decided he didn't really like her. He glanced up at his mother, wondering if she thought the same, but she just looked down at him and smiled.

?I have work to do now, try to find something to entertain yourself for awhile, and we?ll get something to eat later."

After sitting in the small room for what had seemed like forever, Larien had learned two things; number one, there was nothing worth looking at on the bookshelves, and number two, he had better be quiet or that lady would kick both him and his mother out of her shop. He lay on his back, spread out in the middle of the cool floor, a relief on such a hot day, and stared at the ceiling. He found that if he stared long enough, shapes would appear. So far he had found a horse, an arrow, and several other odd shapes.

He flipped over to his stomach; the game had already become boring. Sitting up he began toying with the necklace he wore. His mother had given it to him recently. She said it was a symbol of power, a treasure. The small, pure silver charm was shaped like a droplet of water, and hung from his neck on a small silver chain. Thin veins of gold ran around its edges. Just as he was about to ask his mother when they could leave, Adela opened the door.

?I have some errands to run. Come up in front and run the shop while I'm gone."

?Excuse me miss, but what about supper? My son and I haven't eaten since-"

?You'll leave when I allow it, and no sooner." With that she slammed the door. Riena stood and gathered the things that sat on the desk in front of her.

?Well, at least there's a bit more for you to do in the front." she said as she stood. He thought she looked tired, but there was nothing he could do for her. It seemed like she was tired a lot. He often wondered if it was his fault.

There wasn't anyone in the front room when they walked out. His mother went and sat down at the counter and continued to work on the scrolls she had. Since the herbalist had left Larien walked around looking at the large assortment of plants. On some there were large, brightly colored flowers, others had small fruits hanging from their branches. On a few of the plants he found small lizards. Some were red, others blue or green, and some even changed colors. He picked up one of the color changers and sat on the floor for a while, playing with it, putting it on different leaves and flowers, watching it change. However, that quickly grew boring too.

He stood at the window watching all the people pass. There were several children running around the square.

?Mama," he said, turning to face her, "Can I go play please?"

?No dear, just wait a little longer. We'll go soon, I promise." he sighed. He'd already known that's what she would say, but yet had hoped for a different answer. He walked off into the aisles to play with the lizard. To his surprise, he found a door. He could sneak out without his mother even knowing. He knew he shouldn't, but he was sick of being stuck inside. Quietly lifting the latch, the door swung open, and he stepped outside.

A large stack of crates sat near the door. This gave him an idea. One by one he un-stacked the crates, until he reached the largest one on the bottom. He tried to lift it, but it was too heavy. Most likely filled with jars of herbs.

Sitting down near the crate, he pressed his back into it. Slowly it began to skid across the ground, and then suddenly slipped and shot up against the wall.

Larien smiled as he re-stacked the rest of the crates, forming a small stairway. He was finally free! Standing on top of the last box, he could just reach the top of the wall with his hands. He grabbed the edge and pulled himself up.

Black, red, and brown, heads bobbed every which-way. People bustled along the roads, some laughing and chatting, taking their time. Others hurriedly rushed to wherever they needed to be going. Some were white, others a deep tan. There were both men and women, long hair and short, while no face was the same they all seemed to flow and blend together, like waves on the sea.

He watched them for a moment, trying to build up the courage to jump down. When he was sure he was ready, he squeezed his eyes shut and slowly slid onto the very edge of the mortar, with one final push, he slid off the wall.

"Ah!" Instead of hitting the ground, Larien had landed on top of another boy, who had cried out. The other boy sat up and rubbed the back of his neck.

Larien's face flushed a deep crimson. He looked like a beggar compared to this boy. The boy was wearing a light blue cloak, and what looked like brand new pants. On his feet he wore soft leather riding boots; a merchant's son. Wearing nothing but an old dirty tunic, his pants being to short, and his toes starting to come through his cheap cloth moccasins, Larien was ashamed.

The other boy broke him out of his thoughts. "What were you doing up there?" he asked, looking up at the wall. Larien wasn't sure what to say.

"Well," he stammered "I-"

"Dylan!" a voice rang out from up the street. The boy looked surprised.

"She caught up with me already!?" he mumbled to himself. The boy stood and turned to go, glancing back at Larien.

"Aren't you coming?" he asked. Larien was surprised, but not wanting to be left alone, he quickly followed. The boy smiled at him, then turned and ran, with Larien following close behind. The boy suddenly turned into an alley and ducked behind an old broken crate.

Both boys crouched near the ground, breathing heavily. Larien didn't know why they were running, or who was following them, but he didn't care. He'd spent so much time alone that it didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he had someone to do it with.

"So," the boy said, still panting, "I'm Dylan, What's your name?"

"Larien." He said simply, they sat in silence again. "Why are we hiding?" Larien asked

"Well my father had to bring some of his goods to the market toady, so I-" He immediately fell silent as a small girl stepped into the alleyway.

"Dylan! I know you're in here, I saw you. I don't want to play this game anymore, it's not any fun at all." she complained. Dylan sighed and stood up.

"You always ruin everything Ana, you?re no fun at all." he said, stepping out from behind the crate.

"Daddy said you had to play with me, and I don't want to play tag." she pouted. Larien quietly stood off to the side.

"This is my little sister, Tirana." Dylan said, "Tirana, this is Larien." Tirana said nothing, she just stared, an unreadable expression on her face. He again became conscious of his appearance. Dylan elbowed her in the ribs.

?Say hello!" he hissed.

She glared at Dylan a moment, and then said, ?Hello. So pleased to meet you." She stumbled a little as she tried to curtsy, her dress catching on a nail sticking out of a nearby crate. She fell to the ground in a cloud of dust.

"Mothers not going to be happy, that dress was brand new. Now you've gone and dirtied it all up." Dylan said as she stood.

?It was an accident." she replied, "and besides I hate wearing them. Come on lets go see if daddy?s finished yet." She grabbed her brother's hand as she ran out of the alley.

Dylan stumbled forward as his sister yanked on his arm. "Ana! Wait!" He turned to Larien. "You can come too." he said, smiling brightly.

Larien briefly wondered if he should go back to his mother. After all she would notice he was missing eventually. He stood there pondering it for a moment, and then followed Dylan down the street.

As the children had run further into the city, Larien had slowed. He now stood at a distance, watching them as they raced towards their father. He was a tall man, handsome, and well built. He spun around when the children reached him, scooping Tirana up into his arms and onto his broad shoulders, while she giggled hysterically. Then he wrapped his large cloak around Dylan, who complained a bit, but did so with a smile.

As Larien watched he felt a pang of jealousy. They all looked so happy together, that was something he would never have. He had never met his father, or known what it was like to have one. He never would.

Larien turned and began to head back the way they had come. He didn?t belong with them. As he started to go he heard someone shout his name. He looked over his shoulder and saw Dylan waving at him with a bright smile. The three began to walk towards him. For a moment Larien was tempted to run, but he didn?t.

?Father, this is Larien.? Said Dylan. Larien looked down at his feet, expecting the man to scowl at him and shoo him away. When nothing happened Larien looked up. Instead of acting bitter, the man placed a gentle hand on his head and smiled down at him.

?Hello Larien.? He said. ?You know it?s about time for supper, would you like to come eat with us?? Surprised by the man?s kindness, all Larien could do was nod his head.

?Well alright then.? The man said with a smile, ?We?re off!?

They bought fruit and roast meat, and sat to eat near the fountain in the center. Larien was sure he?d never tasted anything so wonderful in his entire life.

?I have a few more things I need to take care of before we leave? Dylan?s father said as he stood. ?Take care of your sister.? He said looking at Dylan.

?Yes sir.? Dylan said with a slight frown. His father tousled his hair a bit before walking off. They sat and finished their food quietly.

When Larien was finished, he sat back and watched the people pass. He noticed a group of strange men heading toward the fountain. They wore hooded cloaks, each a different color. Larien couldn?t make out their faces. Dylan suddenly stood.

?Let?s go,? He said, voice shaking a little. So he had noticed them too.

?Wait, I?m not finished yet,? Tirana said, still staring down at her food. Larien stood now too.

?Ana! It?s the slavers!? That made her look up. A startled look crossed her face and she stood. One of the men, this one in a purple cloak, grabbed her from behind.

?What a pretty little girl,? he said, running his fingers through her curly hair, ?I wonder how much your daddy would pay to get you back?? he chuckled.

?Let me go!? she screamed, legs kicking wildly as he lifted her into the air. Larien stood where he was, frozen with fear. Dylan charged at the man.

?Leave her alone!? he yelled, preparing to hit him. Another slaver, wearing dark green, stepped in front of Dylan, pushing him back. Dylan stumbled, but quickly got up and charged the man again. This time the slaver was less friendly. He kicked Dylan in the stomach, sending him sprawling backward, then hit him hard in the side of the head. Dylan crumpled to the ground and lay still.

?Dylan!? Tirana had tears rolling down her cheeks now. Yet another man in black stood over Dylan with a dagger. Larien desperately wanted to do something, but he couldn?t move. Why was no one helping them? Where were the guards?

?Stop!? he screamed. There was a brilliant flash of blue. All three of the men suddenly lay on the ground. Tirana knelt over Dylan, tears still falling. Larien suddenly felt dizzy. As he toppled to the ground he felt someone?s arms wrap around him. His mother. She looked worried. Larien?s head was spinning, his vision going blurry.

Guards came out of nowhere, grabbing his mother. They jerked her back and revealed her sharply pointed ears. Larien sat up. There was a guard coming towards him now. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. His mother was reaching for him as the guards took her away She was saying something, but he couldn?t make out what it was.

?Run!? The word broke through the haze. ?Run Larien!? This time he listened. He spun around and took off, running through the streets and alleyways, away from the guards and his mother. When he was sure it was safe, he stopped.

It was dark now, and he had no idea where he was, aside from it being some alleyway or backstreet. He slumped against the wall feeling all his energy leave him. The world suddenly tipped crazily, and everything went black.

Larien woke to find himself in a dark, unfamiliar room. The only light came in a thin stream underneath the door. He sat up to get his bearings, and every muscle in his body complained. His legs buckled as he tried to stand, and he fell back onto the bed. Flopping back onto the pillows, he lay still. Why was he so weak?

As his eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, he realized that there was someone in the bed across from him. He sat up again, much to his body?s disapproval. It was Dylan, still unconscious. His ribs and right arm were tightly bandaged, and there was a large bruise on the side of his head, but his chest rose and fell steadily. A shadow brushed past the door, muted voices following it down the hall outside.

?Will Dylan be alright??

?Yes, Astena, the boy?s fine. Just some cuts and bruises.? The shadow approached the door. ?Just let him rest for now.? Larien recognized one of the voices as Dylan?s father, but he didn?t know the other. The shadow left the door and continued down the hallway.

?He?s still young, you shouldn?t push him so hard Rukin!?

?Calm down. He?s plenty strong, he can handle himself.?

?If it hadn?t been for that boy, our son, and most likely our daughter, would have both been killed!? The other voice must have been Dylan?s mother. Larien assumed the boy they were talking about was him, but what had he done? As far as he remembered, he had just stood by and watched.

?But their both fine! Stop your worrying, just relax.? Any other words they spoke were lost as they walked down the hallway. After a time, Larien stood again, this time holding the table near his bed for support. His legs seemed to be all right for the moment. They still hurt, but at least he could stand. He peeked around the slightly open door, wondering if anyone was still around.

Standing at the end of the long, empty hallway, Larien was awestruck. Beautiful pictures hung on the walls large brightly colored carpets adorned the floor, tickling his bare feet as he dragged them down the hallway, sometimes tripping on the long pants he wore. He wondered down the brightly lit hall, stopping every so often to look at a picture or peek into a room. At the end of the hall hung a huge full-length mirror, reaching from floor to ceiling.

He was surprised by his appearance; it almost looked like someone else entirely. This boy was well dressed and clean; there were no smudges of dirt on his face or clothes. His face was longer, with more defined features, and his choppy brown hair was streaked with red highlights. Most striking were the pointed ears that stuck out beneath his hairs broken ends.

?Just like mothers.?

Larien reached up and felt his face; just to be sure this boy was indeed him. He stood there a long time, just staring at his reflection, trying to break through the haze in his mind and remember what happened.

?What are you doing?? The voice startled him, turning, he saw Tirana standing behind him. He didn?t answer; he merely stared at her, feeling awkward. He noticed she was wearing his necklace. She must have realized he was looking at it, because she took it off and held it out to him, somewhat reluctantly.

?Here, this is yours, the maid nearly tossed it out with your things. I thought you might want it back.? She mumbled, as Larien reached out to take it. Glimmering in his palm, he stared at the small leaf.

?Daddy will want to talk to you, now that you?re awake.? She turned and walked away from him, a soft smile on her face. Larien wanted to say something to her, anything, but no words came. He wasn?t even sure whatever he said would be the right thing. The emotions swirling inside him, warming his chest, they were foreign, and he didn?t understand them.

?Wait!? she looked back at him over her shoulder. ?You could keep if you really like it?? Larien blushed and looked down at his feet, holding the necklace out at an arm?s length. Tirana?s face lit up as she took it.

?Thank you. If you?re sure you don?t want it??

?I?m sure, you can have it. Um, which ? where?s your father? You said he wanted to see me??

?Oh! Here come this way.? Tirana reached out and grabbed his hand, leading him back down the hall. They walked quietly for a while, feeling a bit awkward. Larien tried to break the silence.

?How did I get here? I don?t remember much? I?m not even sure what happened in the square.?

?I don?t know what happened either, but thank you for whatever you did. Daddy might be able to tell you something. As for how you got here, he went out to look for you, he didn?t want the guards to find you.? She stopped and pushed a door open. The large cherry cabinets and desk were all he could see. Other than the furniture, the room was empty. ? He must be in the bedroom, it?s just a bit down the hall.? she turned and said to him, letting go of his hand. ?I?m going to go check on Dylan. Come and find me when you?re done talking, alright?? The smile she gave him made him blush again.

?Alright.? Larien mumbled. In his embarrassment he quickly turned and headed down the hall in the opposite direction. He heard muted voices in the room close by, and was about to open the door, when one of the voices elevated to a yell.

?Rukin, if you don?t stop doing things like this then someone will end up getting killed! The king?s guard is all over this city, and they know what you?re doing!? It was the woman?s voice from earlier.

?Astena, I haven?t the slightest idea what you?re talking about, I haven?t done anything wrong!?

?Nothing wrong!? What about that boy you brought here? If anyone comes looking for him and they find him here, we?ll all be hanged!? Larien was shocked by this. It was his fault? What had he done? Maybe this was what his mother had warned him about.

?There?s nothing wrong with the child!? Rukin was yelling at the top of his voice now. ?All I did was help the poor boy! He?s living; he has a soul just like the rest of us! That damned prince treats his kind like the plague, and he?s brainwashing everyone into thinking the same!? It was silent for a moment, then the woman stormed out of the room and marched down the hall, not even glancing at Larien. Larien peered around the doorframe and saw Rukin sit down heavily on the bed with a sigh. Larien stood there for a second, wondering whether he should enter, or just leave. He was about to go, when Rukin looked up and saw him.

?Larien. Come in, I wanted to talk to you.? Rukin leaned back against the headboard of the bed, looking tired, as Larien stepped slowly into the room.

?Yes. Tirana told me to come. She said you knew what happened.?

?Well, I know a bit, but not enough to explain all of what happened.? Rukin replied. Larien's gaze fixed on him, waiting for an answer. ?I'm sure you've noticed your body's change, that's from the magic you used earlier today. ?

?I,? Larien interrupted, ?I can use magic??

?Under normal circumstances you wouldn't have been able to. Most of your kind doesn?t learn to use it until they're about 16, when they hit puberty, hence the change in your body. What I don't understand is how you were able to use it, you being so young. I'm even more surprised your body could hold up under the strain of it. It should have killed you, yet here you are.? Rukin stood and smiled, placing a gentle hand on Larien's head. The two walked out of the room and were met in the hall by one of the maids.

?Sah, there?s guard at the door, they say they wanna speak wit? you. Kiri?s havin trouble keepin? ?em outside.? Rukin?s smile dropped, his face now completely serious.

?I?ll speak with them. Quickly take him with you,? he said, shoving Larien forward. ?I?ll need a pack, with about a weeks worth of supplies. Hurry now, and when you?re finished meet me near the back gate.?
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The nights cool breeze whispered across the lawn flushing Larien?s face and ruffling his hair. He waited with the maid behind the estate, watching from a distance as the shadows and figures floated from room to room, searching the house. The guards had forced their way inside shortly after Rukin had gone, and Larien had barely made it out. It seemed like ages before everything was quiet again, even longer before anyone came out of the house. When Rukin finally did show Larien was half asleep. Rukin nodded to the maid.

?Thank you, you?re dismissed.? He said quietly. The maid said nothing, just headed back towards the servant quarters. Rukin watched her go to be sure she made it back to the house, and then he turned and quietly picked up the pack the maid had left. Motioning to Larien, they headed back toward Kitsen.

Just outside the walls of the city, there was a small stable. A few horses dozed in a corral nearby, while quiet nickers could be heard from inside the barn. Rukin pushed the barn door open and stepped inside, Larien following close behind. In a small tack room a short, pudgy man lay sleeping on a small cot, a bottle of liquor dangling from his fingers.

The man jumped and tumbled to the floor as Rukin rapped loudly on the doorframe. A string of curses poured from the man's mouth as he stood, muttering something about spilled whiskey. As soon as he saw the two standing at the door he quieted, clearing his throat as he wiped his hands on the dirty smock he wore. He held his hand out to Rukin in greeting, glancing down at Larien with a slight frown.

??Elo mister Lyon. Wat would yew be needin? at such an hour?? the man rasped.

?I need my horse ready for travel immediately.? Rukin replied, ignoring the hand offered to him.

?May I venture to ask where yew?ll be goin???

?No, you may not. Larien go and help the man with the tack.? Larien nodded sleepily and began to wander down the isle, but the man grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him backward.

?Now hold on,? the man said, ?I won?t have the likes of ?im roamin? my stables.? Rukin looked up at the man, locking him in an icy cold stare.

?He?s traveling with me, it?s no concern of yours. Let him alone.? The man scowled, but released Larien?s shoulder. ?Now sir, my horse. If you would be so kind.?

The man quickly slipped a bridal over the head of the anxious stallion, then swaggered toward the wall for a saddle. He managed to pull one down after several tries, but the weight of it carried the drunken man backward and onto the ground.

?Never mind the saddle.? Rukin said, stepping over the man as he led the horse out.

The prairie soon gave way to the rocky seashore, and Kitsen was left far behind. The sea was awestriklingly calm; the only sounds were the methodic hoof beats as they rode. Water seemed to stretch on forever, clear and smooth, mirroring the moon and stars. It was nearly impossible to tell where sky ended and sea began, almost as if you could just walk off into the heavens. On nights like these Larien would walk along the shore with his mother, just talking, or simply sitting together. He found himself wondering what had happened to her. Would he ever see her again? Or would his fate be the same as hers? Silent tears ran down the young boys face, and he was glad the dark hid them from Rukin.

They were nearing the cliffside when Larien heard the hoof beats behind them. Rukin tightened his grip on the reins and pushed the stallion into a full gallop, rushing headlong towards the cliff face. Their pursuers arrows were still falling short, but they were gaining ground by the second. The horse suddenly stumbled and collapsed, felled by an arrow. Both Rukin and Larien were pitched hard to the ground. Larien scrabbled backward towards the rocks, looking for a place to hide. Rukin stood, drawing his sword form the sheath at his side, and spun to face the attackers.

He quickly brought down two of the three men, knocking them of their horses with swift strikes from his sword. The third man hung back and fired several arrows at him, striking Rukin in the shoulder and arm. One of the men on the ground tried to stand, but he was quickly laid back into the ground by Rukin?s blade. Rukin yanked the sword out of the man?s back and charged at the third man, but was brought down by an arrow midway.

The man chuckled, listening to Rukin?s ragged breathing as he struggled to stand again, then shot several arrows into his chest and stomach, continuing until Rukin lay motionless. The second man, one of the first hit by Rukin?s sword, dragged Larien from his hiding place, binding his hands with cord, then tying its other end to his saddle. Larien stared numbly at Rukin?s still body, to shocked to fight back.

.The man with the bow nudged Rukin with the toe of his boot, a wicked smile on his face, then picked up the pack of supplies and began rummaging through it. Finding nothing useful he tossed it aside. Picking up Rukin?s blade from the sand where it?d fallen, he called,

?How much do you think this?ll go for?? The hilt was coated in gold, a green stone resting in it?s pommel, while the blade itself was expertly sharpened, and made of steel, rather than the bronze that most others were made of. He moved over Rukin?s body and unbuckled the sheath from his shoulder. The sheath was dyed a deep black, and made of tanned leather. The other man gave no answer, but was kneeling over the third man, whom Rukin had caught in the back.

?Dead,? spit the man. ?Bastard killed him.?

?Let it alone. One less person to split the reward with.? Replied the man with the bow, glancing at Larien.

After taking whatever they could find, the two men climbed atop their horses and rode off, dragging Larien behind. No one spoke as they rode away. Larien couldn?t bring himself to look at Rukin?s body, but the image of him falling to the ground kept playing through Larien?s mind like a broken reel. The man had befriended him and protected him. Now because of this power Larien had lost his mother and his friends. He had nowhere to go. The thought made his stomach turn, and he had lost the will to resist.

The men kicked their horses into a trot, forcing Larien to run along behind. He was soon exhausted, but as the men neared the city they began to ride even faster. Larien continued, thinking that the men would head into the city to turn him into the guard, but to his surprise they rode past the gates and continued into the prairie. Fire burned in Larien?s chest, he could barely breathe. He stumbled and fell to the ground, only half conscious, but still able to feel the flesh on his back being torn apart by the gravel on the road. Twisting over to his stomach, Larien desperately tried to stand, but he was unable to get his legs under him, no matter how he tried. The cord held his arms above his head, collapsing his chest and making breathing all but impossible. With the tearing pain and lack of air, his vision soon went black.[/COLOR]
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I'm still working on alot of it, and alot will change... I think. And of course it's nowhere near being finished. XD
A few questions for you. Should I add dialouge to the section where Rukin dies? Does the section where Larien is in the house, talking to Tirana, flow well? Thats it. Any coments and other help is great. The stuff in orange is the newest addition, mostly so I can point out to my friends what they haven't already read. It can get a bit confusing trying to explain the x amount of paragraphs up/down from the bottom/top. :animesmil I'll do that whenever I add, so if anyone is actually reading then you can keep track. However as of right now my life is filled with AP test and dance competition, so there won't be any new writing for awhile, as history and bio are keeping my brain on hold and dance is slowly killing my body. :animestun


:catgirl: *wiggle wiggle* :animesmil

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Seems alright so far, it has depth at least. Try to limit your adverbs and adjectives - sometimes they are a little overused. Oh, and "a while" is two words, not one. ;)

PS. I thought Rukin was "Ruskin" at first. Deary me..
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