_Anyways, on to this part, where Monty has a tendency to get easily distracted.

Part XXVI: Confession

Date: Amanela 19th, 114 A.U.


Monty twisted the wheel sharply and moved into his drive way. Parking the car next to Astrid’s, Monty got out and walked up to the front door, a bit concerned for why Astrid had been so eager to talk to him, and about the tone in her voice.

Entering the house, he came to his small living room to find Astrid sitting on a chair drinking a cup of tea. Monty noticed remnants of tears in her eyes, but what he was more concerned of was the tea. Tea! How in the world did she get tea? Monty knew for a fact that he hadn’t bought any tea, and he was pretty sure that Astrid hadn’t gone out to get some… The nearest place selling hot tea was twenty minutes away or so, and Monty didn’t think Astrid had brought it from her house, so how in the world…

“Monty,” Astrid said, acknowledging her brother’s presence, and her voice cracked.

Thoughts of where the tea had come from instantly left Monty’s mind. “Astrid,” Monty said, concerned. “What’s the matter?”

“You know that something’s the matter then,” Astrid said.

“It’s kind of obvious from your expression and how you’re acting,” Monty said, his line of sight drifting towards Astrid’s cup of tea. No. Don’t think about the tea.

“I guess so…” Astrid said, and stared at the cup of tea for a bit, Monty joining her in doing so. Did she bring little packets of tea with her and then she heated it up here? But she couldn’t have boiled hot water—the oven had nearly blown up after that kitchen experiment, and he still had to call a repairman for that, and the microwave, which had been broken for a year. Wait; no. Not tea. Don’t think about it. Astrid has a problem, and-

“I killed a man,” Astrid suddenly blurted out.

Monty sat up more upright. “You what?”

“I killed a man,” Astrid said, and Monty fell silent. “I secretly murdered him at the hospital.”

“But…” Monty began, his mind racing. “Why…”

“Two weeks ago,” Astrid said. “Two weeks ago, a man died at the hospital from a heart attack. And this heart attack wasn’t a normal attack.” Hold on… Thoughts began quickly connecting together inside Monty’s head. “I was going to report it to a head doctor, but before I could do it, a man threatened me.”

“You’re our informant?” Monty burst out, his mouth dropping open. “My own sister was the informant, and Oldin didn’t tell me? No wonder…”

“What?” Astrid asked, her train of thought obviously lost. “How do you know Oldin, and how did you know—wait—are you?”

“Suppose I just spilled the beans there,” Monty said. “Yeah; I’m not really a guard for Astrid, except at ceremonial times to maintain my illusion of being one.”

“You’re part of the FRI,” Astrid said.

“I am,” Monty confirmed. “But wait—why?”

“If you knew anything about my going-ins and going-outs as an informant, you would know that I offered the man that I would help him in order to get closer to what was really going on,” Astrid stated. “That was yesterday. And I got home to learn that he had accepted my offer. My first job was going to be to go into the hospital and to secretly kill a man with poison that they had failed to kill.”

Monty tried to keep a calm level composure and not flip out like he was tempted to do. That would make Astrid real mad for him to flip out like that. Monty bit his lip and tried not to show much of a reaction.

“I did it,” Astrid stated bluntly, and tears rose to her eyes. “I didn’t want to do it, Monty! I didn’t want to do it! But he said if I didn’t then he would kill me and then they’d go along and finish the job themselves, so it wasn’t like I’d be saving this man’s life, or anything, and—oh Monty…” Astrid burst into tears and her grip loosened on the cup of tea. Too late to do anything, Monty washed it fall, tea sloshing out of it, and then smash. It broke all over the carpet. And it was Monty’s favorite mug too.

Astrid stopped. “Oh…” she said. “I-“

“Never mind the tea,” Monty said. “So… What do you think then about this? If you don’t think there’s any higher being or reason for the morals-” Too late, Monty realized that that statement was unwise of him to say at this time.

“Shut up about the higher being stuff,” Astrid snapped, and then her composure slackened. “I feel awful, Monty!” she said. “At this point I wish that I hadn’t done it; I wished that they’d just have gone along and killed me. Would’ve been better then this.” She paused. “I’m going, Monty. Unless you can convince me otherwise—which you can’t—after talking with you, I’m leaving. I’m leaving Araelia and going who knows where. As far as I can away from here, the espionage, and the hospital. I’ll start a new life elsewhere. And you’ll never see me again.”

Monty was a bit shockened by this. “Where are you going?” he asked. “I mean, you’d kind of stick out like a sore thumb in all those dwarven cities.”

“I don’t care,” Astrid stated bluntly, and then she was silent.

“So…” Monty said, trying to think of what to say. “I mean, I can kind of sympathize with you, Astrid. Once you’re in that position when you know that the man’s going to die either way, and it’s up to you… It’s not a very good position to be in in the first place… and after having done the deed, your feeling of guilt is understandable… I… I don’t know what to say, Astrid.”

“You always have something to say about things like this,” Astrid said.

“Yeah, when it’s a random person in the paper that we’re discussing about in relation to theology,” Monty said. “But not when it’s my own sister, I…. I’m kind of speechless, Astrid, but…” He squinted. “No; you shouldn’t go.”

“Why not?” Astrid snapped.

“You can’t run away forever,” Monty said delicately. “You won’t be able to escape your remembrance of the deed, Astrid. It’s going to follow you like a ghost, continually haunting you. Even when you think you’ve escaped the guilt of your sin, you’re not going to be able to until you confront it head on. Until then, you’ll just be being chased by the remembrance of it. You might be fine in a new place for a couple weeks, or months at the most. But you won’t be able to escape it, Astrid. You can’t run away forever.”
“But then…” Astrid asked, looking desperate. “What can I do?”
“Repent,” Monty said. “Realize the guilt of your action, and –“ And, suddenly, Monty heard a foot step behind him. And then there was a sound of a gun being loaded.
“I suggest that you don’t try any funny moves, either of you,” a voice said. “Or else you’ll get a taste of this.”
 
_A pretty important part today to really stimulate the part... which needs to happen given that I only have eleven more parts before the curtains draw on Book I: The Star (and yes, I actually named Book 1!)  This part is also rather fitting what with the adventurers called by a star and the wise men too, so...  Some nice parallels can made there, analogies and allegories and that stuff...  Let's get on to see this important part of the Arquenia Saga.

Part XXV: Called by a Star

Amanela 13th, 114 A.U.


“You said you wanted to speak to me?” Freglak leaned back in his chair as he looked at the shadowy figure.

“Aye, you and Flek,” Reynyagn said, slowly sitting down.

“What of?” Freglak asked. “Of our battle? Those elves won’t know what hit them.”

“A strong scout force it may have been, but it was still a scout force,” Reynyagn firmly said. “This is only going to be the beginning of a long conflict, which doesn’t help my request.”

“What request?” Freglak said, suddenly sitting upright.

Reynyagn seemed to dodge the question. “Have you seen the bright blue star in the north sky?”

“Who hasn’t?” Freglak asked. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

“There’s a certain prophesy that you may have heard of,” Reynyagn replied. “Have you ever heard of Xavier’s Prophesy?”

Freglak pursed his lips, and then suddenly nodded. “Ah yes!” he said. “There was that group of people during the war against your people that said they were chosen by Xavier’s Prophesy, was there not?” Freglak was happy he remembered his history lesson from long ago.

“Yes…” Reynyagn slowly said, and he paused. “It’s a famous prophesy that describes a team that would fight against the greatest evil to come upon the land.” He paused. “There was a group that thought themselves to be the prophesied back then. Now it is found though, that there is a greater evil.” He paused again. “I believe that Flek and I are both members of that prophesy.”

“What?” Flek asked, suddenly alert, and surprised.

Freglak had a perplexed expression on his face. “What?” he asked.

“To go deep into the prophesy at this point would be unwise,” Reynyagn said. “But it speaks of certain people. “A goblin with great expertise. A Sla’ad that would lead the group. Another part speaks of a warrior who seeks to lead, presumably Flek, and one who saw a great slaughter, which I did at the massacre. It speaks of a burning ember in the sky that will call the team together. For decades, I’ve believed that the prophesy spoke of the elves and a team to stop them, but I awaited a clear sign.” He cleared his throat. “We now have it.”

There was silence for a bit. “Ok…” Freglak said. “So… What’s the point?”

“My point,” Reynyagn said, and then he stopped, and sighed. “My point is that I would like to request of you permission for Flek and I to go North to follow the star to join the rest of the team.” Freglak’s mouth dropped open.

“You want to do what?” Flek asked.

“I know it is asking much of you,” Reynyagn begin.

“Well it sure does!” Freglak said, a bit ecstatic. “You expect me to let my best strategist and my best warrior to just run off North, without any sure indication that I will see them again!”

“Correct,” Reynyagn calmly said, and Freglak stopped, still flabbergasted. “I ask much of you,” Reynyagn agreed. “Especially with the elves sure to be preparing to chase you down for attacking them. And yet I still ask it.”

“But-“ Freglak began.

“Put as many guards as you want with us to make sure that I won’t escape,” Reynyagn said. “And I swear that, if either we aren’t the members of the prophesy, or if we fulfill it, that I will come back to you and serve the rest of my six months helping you.”

There was silence. Finally, Flek spoke. “What is this team supposed to do?” he asked,

“Defeat the elves once and for all,” Reynyagn said. Again, there was silence.

“I don’t know…” Freglak said.

“Look,” Reynyagn said. “We all want the same thing here: to destroy the elves. Believing the prophesy, I think it’s the best, and dare I say? The only way to destroy the elves. To refuse to let us go would be… would be probably cutting off the only means of defeating the elves.”

“I still don’t like it,” Freglak said glumly.

“I know,” Reynyagn said. “And I do sympathize with your plight, but I think it must be done. Do you believe it? Do you believe the prophesy?”

“I’d never even heard of it before…” Freglak murmured.

“I think I have…” Flek said. “I mean, I don’t know exactly where or how I learned it, but… I don’t know… It’s just like I intimately know it some how, I…”

You wonder how you know the exact wording of the prophesy, Flek?
The voice in his head laughed, and Flek suddenly froze, an icy chill going down his spine.

“I beg of you,” Reynyagn said. “Because of my oath I swore to you before, I will not leave without your permission. But I beg of you, Lord Freglak, I beg of you! Let us go out so that we can fulfill the prophesy. And when I am able, I will return to serve my months.”

Freglak was quiet for a moment, and then he slowly exhaled. “What choice do I have?” he asked. “Am I going to allow my own pride and selfishness keep you here when I could be destroying our only chance of victory?” He slowly shook his head. “I can’t do it. I don’t want to. But what choice do I have?” He slowly nodded. “Go then, Reynyagn. I’ve never heard of this prophesy before, heck, I don’t even believe in prophesies. But I know this one is true. Don’t ask me how, but I do.” He raised his head. “Go then. Go with Flek, our fastest airship, and as many goblin warriors as you want. Follow the star. And when you are done your mission, return here. Oh…” And he turned again to Reynyagn and Flek. “And be safe. And destroy those blood-thirsty elves once and for all.”

Question of the Week:Will you remember to read the Arquenia Saga during the holidays?
 
_Think that Jroldin's part, though many of you like him, has the most boring part? Think he never has any action and that I forgot about the bug placed on him (though the latter MIGHT be true)... Think again! He finally gets some action... and, IMO, proves himself to be by far the funniest of the characters we're following... I mean, who else has just been (Removed Because It is A Spoiler) and just calmly snacks on a bag of chips?


Part XXIV: Kidnapped

Date: Amanela 18th 114 A.U.


Together with Brother Tomas, Jroldin walked away from the capitol back toward home. Jroldin still hadn’t been able to tell his father about his affairs with Astrid and being a member of the prophesy. Oldin continued to come back from work after Jroldin went to bed and elave before Jroldin awoke. Jroldin was considering writing a note tonight.

That day had been a lot of bustle about perhaps finding another member. Apparently there was some “ambitious” elf who was an outcast from the rest of the elves that lived in Araelia. Jroldin knew that the elf, Rider, was one of the few elves that safely lived in Araelia, and he supposed it was about time that they began to gather other members of the prophesy. Brother Tomas had explained that there were actually two elves in the prophesy, making the seven people work—there was an ambitious elf, and then a pair of an orc and an elf that would come together.

“So,” Brother Tomas said. “It would appear that you are indeed a member of the prophesy!”

“No kidding…” Jroldin murmured. According to the scouting party that went up above the mountains, the exceedingly bright blue star had appeared. Jroldin mentally remembered the lines of the prophesy that Brother Tomas had recited. He wasn’t exactly sure why Governor Astrid hadn’t included these lines in the Remembrance Ceremony, but she hadn’t.

A sign will arise in the sky to call the team together
A burning ember dark will rise and proclaim an emergence
The sign will gather together the team to rise to fight
To fight for good, to fight ‘gainst evil, to fight against the darkness

And now a hope is here!
And now a hope is here!

Far North the party now must go if it wants to succeed.
The trials that will try the group will bring it to the brink;
Despair must run o’er them before the culmination comes.
And then the party will be ready to go forth to war.
And purified with fire it will stand against fire.

And now a hope is tried!
And now a hope is tried!


Brother Tomas had been grilling him both on this and also the other words of the prophecy during the breaks during the endless interrogations and questionings of the Governor Astrid and her experts. Between lots of work today and the day before, they’d gotten a lot of work to do since Brother Tomas was resolved that Jroldin memorize the prophecy since he was convinced Jroldin to be heir of the prophecy. Forasmuch as Jroldin didn’t particularly enjoy memorizing the prophecy, it was a much-need relief for a lot of information being dumped into his head about the prophecy and its fulfillment and explanations for why it was true and all that other stuff that the experts told him.
Jroldin still wasn’t exactly sure about the prophesy—but he was considering it, and he did find the ways facts seemed to be lining up with the prophesy kind of odd. At the very least, Jroldin publicly accepted the prophesy, as he did with accepting the Great One. But deep inside his heart…

“The second line of the fourth stanza!” Brother Tomas suddenly said.

Jroldin thought a bit before speaking: “A warrior wants to lead and yet it won’t be granted him,” he recited. “Right?”

“Close enough,” Brother Tomas said. “Now-“

Suddenly, a car screeched around the corner and squealed to a stop nearby. “Someone’s in a hurry,” Jroldin casually remarked, walking closer to it to see who was inside. Suddenly, two men leapt out of the car from each side, each of them holding a gun.

“Ru-“ Brother Tomas yelled and turned to run, but a man grabbed him first, just as another grabbed Jroldin, levering guns at them. ‘

“Get in the car,” one of them snapped. “Now!”

“But-“ Jroldin began.

“Now!” the man said, and shoved Jroldin into the car. Sliding on the seat, Jroldin moved to get out, but Brother Tomas was shoved next to him, and then the armed men sat on either side, shutting the car doors, doing everything as easy as it were clock work. The car’s engine revved, and suddenly the hover car shot forward, moving again into the busy streets.

Jroldin looked from side to side, and then took a bag of half-eaten crumbled chips from his pocket. He had no idea where that came from. Maybe from the cafeteria that he had lunched at with Governor Astrid… Sticking a chip into his mouth, Jroldin looked at the guard next to him.

“Where you taking us?” he asked, his mouth full.

The man looked at Jroldin with disgust. “None of your business,” he snapped. “And what are you eating?”

Jroldin stuck another handful of chips into his mouth. “None of your business,” he retorted.

Raising his hand, the man brought it down, smacking Jroldin on the cheek and snatching the bag of chips from his hand in the same move. Rolling down the darkened window, the man threw the bag of chips out the window before rolling it back up. Rubbing his smarting cheek, Jroldin turned to Brother Tomas, who was folding and unfolding his brown robe.

“Brother Tomas,” Jroldin asked. “Where do you think they’re taking us? And why?”

“I don’t know,” Brother Tomas solemnly replied. “Although I suspect that-”

“No talking amongst the prisoners!” one of the guards snapped. Jroldin sully fell silent. Stupid guards. Stupid kidnapping. But it probably wouldn’t matter in the end. His father would save him. He had put a tagger on him a couple years ago after some of his father’s enemies had tried to kidnap Jroldin to use him as insurance against his father. So his dad would be able to save him in due time.

“Put the blindfolds on,” one of the men said. “Can’t let them know where I’m taking them.”

“But-“ Jroldin said.

“No buts!” one of the men rebutted. And with that, despite Jroldin’s initial struggling, the blindfolds were put on. And Jroldin continued the journey there in blindness and silence.
 
I apologize for not posting Saturday....  was a pretty busy day.  Anyways, because of that I'm posting Saturday's post late today and plan on posting Tuesday's tomorrow...

And now for a good, old-fashioned chase scene... except you soon realize that chase scenes are hard to write and that it would be so much "easier" and better in a movie, but oh well.. chase scenes are still fun...

Part XXIII: The Chase is On!

Date: Amanela 11th, 114 A.U.


Zarien pressed his foot hard against the pedal and turned his body some to move the hover motorcycle around curve. If he could only get to the 7th District of the Mothership, he could get to the escape pods and get the heck out of the Mothership. Where he would go, Zarien did not know. But he knew this much. There was nothing for him left here. All of his companions were dead. There was nothing left for him.

He heard a noise behind him and swerved to the side to see a bolt of lightning rush past him and smash into a hovercar ahead. Debris went flying and Zarien ducked his head down as he moved past the explosion before keeping his eyes ahead on the road. He didn’t have much time.

Swerving to the side to avoid other cars, Zarien looked behind him at the orc navigating after him, and tried to make out the number on the golden band around his head to see how good he was. But Zarien couldn’t make it out from this far of a distance. And he didn’t want to get any closer to that orc than he already was.



Number 997 swerved past the cars as he kept his eye on the elf up ahead. He couldn’t let him get away; Unyihi would have his head for that. A car moved up in front of him, blocking his way. Number 997 nearly panicked. Slowing his motorcycle down and shooting out a web of electricity, he quickly hijacked the car’s system to move it to another lane before stepping down again on the pedal to speed up past the car and after the fleeing elf. Number 997 wondered where the elf was trying to get. He wouldn’t have much chance alone in the Mothership.

The communicator on Number 997’s wrist buzzed. “Number 997, this is Unyihi Garum. The rebels have been destroyed. Where are you? Over!”

“Number 997 to Unyihi Garum, zar!” Number 997 replied. “I’m chasing the last rebel down the high way! We’re currently passing through District 5 right now upwards through the districts. Backup would be appreciated. Over!”

“Back up will be sent. Keep your eye on that elf, over!” Unyihi responded. And then the communicator was silent.

Rule 74: Always keep your full attention on your target.

Keeping his eyes locked on the fleeing elf, Number 997 swerved from side to side to try and catch up with the elf, but he couldn’t get very far. The elf kept maneuvering so as to keep out of his grasp. Number 997 gnashed his teeth. The elf had probably had plenty of experience with this, and he—he had none. And Number 997 feared Unyihi’s rage.


Unyihi kicked at the elf’s body and the elf groaned. Unyihi gestured to two elves, a male and a female elf and snapped his fingers. “Take these two to Emperor Jaigran for questioning!” he snapped. “Everyone else clean up this place and look for other information! I’m going to go take down that last elf!” Quickly leaving the rebels area, Unyihi made for the District Three Transit Station. Each district had a transit station where a super-powered train ran through quickly transporting people from district to district.

Normally, although it was speedy, it could be a long wait depending on the schedule, but Unyihi didn’t care. He could tinker with the train’s machinery to get it to come to District Three fast enough. And it would be the way that he’d be able to catch up with Number 997 to take down the last elf and to crush the rebel’s opposition once and for all.

Finally, Zarien flew by the sign for District Seven, having survived multiple attacks from the orc, including one from the orc electrically controlling a car to try to send it crashing into him. The orc had almost gotten attacked by the inhabitants of the car for that, but, unfortunately, he’d managed to get away.

Spinning the wheel, Zarien flew down a side road that had a sign of leading to the escape pods. He just had to get in one of the escape pods and get away—and fast. Zarien drew his gun. Shooting madly, he shot down the two surprised guards and whizzed through the open gate, looking at the lines of hatches to the escape pods. Quickly deciding what course of action he would take, Zarien brought his legs around and leapt off of the motorcycle, nearly falling face first, but barely managing to level himself on the side walk. Zarien dashed over to an escape pod and hit the button, opening the door, as the orc flew through the gate on his motorcycle.

Leaping into the escape pod, Zarien barely avoided a bolt of lightning and made for the controls. He would start by shutting the doors of the escape pod, but he knew that the orc would too easily reverse that with his lightning powers. He just had to get out of the Mothership and leave. And fast.

Zarien’s hand hit the blast off button as he heard a noise behind him. As the escape pod’s engines roared, Zarien suddenly gave a scream and arched his back as electricity pulsed through him. His quivering hand barely managing to keep a hold of his gun, Zarien shot backwards and the pulsing electricity stopped as the escape pod dropped, having left the ship, and plummeted down through the air.

Zarien spun around as he grabbed for the wheel to see the orc a bit dazed. The orc pointed his finger at him, but Zarien shot first, the bullet breaking through the orcs glove and into his hand. The orc gave a cry, and fell back as Zarien leapt forward, unheeding the quick descent of the escape pod, and grabbed the orcs other hand, twisting his other glove off. Without his gloves to conduct his powers, the orc was helpless. Zarien turned back toward the controls, ignoring the dazed orc, whom Zarien thought might possibly come in handy if he was chased, though probably it would more be when they were chased. Zarien put his hand on the steering wheel and looked forward before beginning to control the escape pod. He was free from the Mothership—but Zarien was sure that their battle was far from over.

Question of the Week:What is your favorite thing about the Christmas season?
 
_Part XXII: Murder

Date: Amanela 19th, 114 A.U.


Astrid flashed her ID card and the sliding doors opened. She stepped forward, feeling the weight of the item in her pocket and bit the inside of her lip. As she walked through to the ward, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a man dressed as a doctor pass by and look at her. And her blood chilled. It was him.

Astrid turned to keep her gaze forward and breathed heavily. If she didn’t kill him, she would die herself and they’d find another way to kill him. It wouldn’t be wrong of her to kill the man! He would die eventually—less people would die this way. She couldn’t truly save his life! Any rational person would have made the same choice as her in this situation. There was nothing wrong about it.

Opening the door, Astrid entered the ward to where the man lay, sleeping, on the bed. She was supposed to check his blood pressure and other readings. Slowly, Astrid checked the man’s blood pressure and then looked at other readings while she slowly drew the shot out of her pocket. She stared down at it and almost felt like throwing it away from her, but she only clenched her fist around it.

Astrid slowly walked over to the man and drew the covers back to reveal his arm. Astrid slowly lay the point of the needle over the man’s vein and her breathing quickened. Murder. She was going to kill a man. Her pursuers could probably blackmail her about this later to make sure that she kept with them. Once she killed him, there was no going back.

Astrid swallowed hard and gripped the side of the bed to steady herself. Focus, Astrid. Focus on the assignment. Slowly, Astrid slightly raised the needle up a bit, and then she jabbed it into the man. Ok, now focus. Just push it down and inject the fluid.

Astrid bit her lip and tried to will herself to inject the fluid into him, but she still didn’t press it in. Her heart beat faster. She knew that she had to do it now. If someone else came in and saw her, she would be in huge trouble. The note on the needle said it would be untraceable. No one would know that she did it. And if she didn’t do it, she’d just find herself dead the day later.

Astrid’s breathing quickened, and she closed her eyes, feeling the blood pulse through her veins. And then, gripping the side of the bed, Astrid tightened her grip on the shot and pushed down on it, injecting the fluid into the man. Astrid felt her legs nearly give way, but she held herself up until it was all injected.

Opening her eyes, Astrid breathed hard as she lifted the needle up. Her hand shook and the needle dropped, clattering and rolling on the floor. Biting back a curse word, Astrid knelt down and snatched up the needle, shoving it back into her pocket. She had just killed a man. She, a nurse, had just killed her patient.

Astrid’s whole body quivered and she suddenly collapsed to the ground, tears running down her face. How could she do this? How could she have just murdered a man? She had become like the people she had been trying to stop! She had just murdered a man. She was a murderer.

Bile rose in Astrid’s throat, and she vomited on the ground, coughing it out and mingling it with her tears. After a couple minutes she slowly stood up and swallowed hard, lifting up her tear-stricken face. It was over. It was all over. She couldn’t be a nurse anymore—no, not after what she’d done. She’d leave, run away somewhere away from all this conspiracy, and she’d never return. She no longer had any place, no longer had any life here again. She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t live with herself. A guttural cry of lament left Astrid’s throat, and she moved forward, making for the door.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Astrid leapt back, almost screaming before she saw who it was. And then her jaw locked. Him.

The “doctor” looked at her and cocked his head. “You finish checking him, yet?” he asked, sending a glare at her.

Astrid slowly lifted the needle out of her pocket. “It is finished,” she whispered.

The man smiled. “Ah, well done, well done…” he said, and nodded. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

The man put his hand on Astrid’s shoulder, but Astrid shoved him off and pushed forward ,leaving the room and nearly running through the corridor, not thinking of anything but to be able to escape the hospital before anyone could discover her deed.

As she ran through the waiting room, she heard someone call her name, but Astrid ignored them, running down to the parking garage and getting in her car. Inserting and turning the key, she backed the car up and then drove out of the parking garage, turning down the road and riding as her thoughts twisted and turned. It would have been better to die than to do that.

Slowly, Astrid pulled out her cell phone and swallowed. She didn’t want to. She wanted to leave without talking to anyone again. But she knew that she should. Slowly flipping open the cell phone, she dialed Monty’s number.



Monty was getting ready to drive off to go to guard Governor Astrid, as was his duty as a member of the Araelian Guard, when his cell phone rang. Opening the front door to leave, he flipped open the cell phone and put it against his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Monty?” a voice said. Monty recognized it as Astrid’s voice, but there was something different about it; Monty could tell! He wasn’t sure what it was, but Monty knew something was wrong.

“Yeah, this is Monty,” Monty said. “Astrid?”

“Monty!” Astrid said. “I need to talk to you! Now! Please!” Astrid’s voice cracked. “Can you take some time off of work or something? I need to talk with you now in person.” Monty bit his lip and stared at his watch but then he sharply jerked his chin up. His sister needed him, and from her voice, Monty knew that something was deeply, terribly wrong.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, and then more confidently. “Yeah, Astrid,” he said. “Just come over; I haven’t left yet. I’ll just call in and tell them that I will be preoccupied for a bit today.”

“You sure?” Astrid asked.

Monty nodded before remembering that Astrid couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he said. “You sound like something’s wrong, don’t you? Some things are more important than my job.”

“Thank you!” Astrid said and Monty heard her sob. And then the phone clicked.

Question of the Week:How do you think Book I is going to end?
 
Lol, you are so worried about losing you dream about it ^_^  I'll send my story to you when I remember *which probably means close to never

Back to the story, we can have a fun battle scene... Given the trend of naming things by the armies such as plants vs. zombies or pirates vs. ninjas, today we can have elves vs. goblins... epic...

Part XXI: Elves vs. Goblins

Amanela 12th, 114 A.U.


Sirens went off and red lights flashed as the goblin’s radars picked up several large aircraft coming their way—fast. Leaping out of bed, Flek ran as fast as he could toward the goblin capitol, hoping he wouldn’t be late. Ten minutes later, he burst into Freglak’s chambers where Freglak was hurriedly making plans with Reynyagn.

“Flek; you’re here!” Freglak said. “Good—they’ll be upon us in another five minutes if they continue on at the same rate they’ve been going this far. Thankfully our radar stretches out pretty far. Just stay here and be ready. So what were you saying?” He turned to Reynyagn.

“They most likely have several smaller scouting aircraft searching way out in front of them,” Reynyagn said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve already found us. But that matters not. Are the missiles ready?”

“Yes, everything is ready for us to use,” Freglak said. “We’ll shoot them down as soon as they get close enough.”

“Be ready for anything,” Reynyagn said. “I’d expect them to have some tricks up their sleeve that we don’t know about—anything could happen.”

“Then again, they weren’t planning to come across a whole city and fighting force…” Freglak said. He walked over to the window and watched the sky. Reynyagn and Flek walked with him.

“Should be any minute now…” Freglak muttered. Suddenly, a powerful search light lit up the sky and there were muffled explosions as they saw missiles began to coast through the air at some dark aircraft.

“It’s a mild attack force,” Reynyagn snapped. “I hadn’t expected them to send this much. If I know them-” Suddenly, one of the aircraft dove toward the ground as the missiles hit the other aircraft, causing explosions to fill the night air.

“It’s a transport ship!” Reynyagn said. “They’re landing an attack force!”

“I’ll take them,” Flek said. And with that he rushed out of the room.


Are you ready?

Of course I am.



Flek leapt in the air, higher than any other goblin could, as he saw a sleek small elven aircraft coming his way. The machine was open to the air and the elements, and was twelve feet long. About eight feet in from the front, the elf sat, controlling the cruiser.

Flek landed neatly on the elven cruiser and leapt forward before the elf could do anything. His corsha blades silently whipped through the air, cutting off the elf’s life, as Flek jumped up to grasp a tree branch and use his momentum to propel him forward. Landing on the ground and running through the brush, Flek emerged in the clearing where the elf craft had landed. Armed elves were pouring out of the transport. They were ready to battle. Flek heard a noise and spun around to see Reklen beside him.

The small goblin grinned and Flek nodded. “Let’s get to work.”

Ignoring the fact that they were far outnumbered, Flek and Reklen burst out, Reklen scampering along the ground, Flek running toward them, using the time detraction the corsha weapons mysteriously gave him to block all the bullets. Out of the corner of his eye, Flek noticed more goblin troops running in.
Flek quickly met up with the first group of elven troops that ran toward him. The corsha blades illuminated the night air as they sliced through the elves. Flek leapt in the air and spun, laughing as he cut through them. This was so easy. By him, Reklen leapt up to tackle the head of one of the elves. The elf gave a cry as Reklen clawed at his face. Flek turned to go back into battle—but turned too late.

Flek gave a cry as piercing pain rippled through him and Flek was thrust ten feet backwards as lightning crackled in him. Flek noticed the corsha weapon drawing a lot of the lightning into itself, but it wasn’t enough. The lightning came from a blue orc, surrounded by his elven comrades. By him, goblins lay on the ground, unconscious.

Out of pure instinct, Flek suddenly thrust his corsha blade into the air to block a bullet and stood up. The orc sent a bolt of lightning crackling toward him. Leaping into the air, Flek let the lightning pass right unto him before quickly making a zig-zag course toward the orc, blocking the bullets with his corsha weapon, avoiding the lightning with his body.

His comrades were not so lucky. All around him, Flek could hear the goblins dying as they tried to do the moves that Flek was making and failed at doing so. Flek wasn’t surprised at their failure. Few could match his power.

Suddenly, a figure appeared as if out of nowhere right next to the orc. A long thin corsha blade slashed through the shocked elves guarding the orc. The orc sent a barrage of lightning against his mysterious attacker. Blue lightning crackled around the figure’s sillhoutte. Flek saw the mysterious being arch his back, but he said nothing. Bullets shot right through the figure. The being slowly lifted its corsha sword as it arched its back, and then it fell. The orc’s limp body fell over.

Flek sprinted over to come to this being’s aid. It was indeed Reynyagn. As the elves learned that Reynyagn couldn’t be hurt by the bullets, Reynyagn and Flek fell upon them, cutting them to pieces. They stood no chance. Flek leapt into the air, his corsha blades rotating through the air to stop all shooting bullets, and came down in the midst of the elves, quickly cutting them to pieces before they could do anything. This was too easy… Then again, few goblins were as good as him.

A loud noise filled the air and Flek turned to see the transport ship trying to take off. Oh no you don’t… Flek sprinted toward the ship and leaped high to grab on, but it was too late. Even as he jumped, he saw that it would not be far enough. The transport ship flew up past his reach, and as it did, Flek saw a star far off in the distance. The bright blue star shone brighter than the other stars, making the stars that should have been close to it unable to seen. Flek blinked, thinking it was a nearby light. But no. It was a star—a bright blue star. And its presence engulfed all the other stars.
 
_Part Twenty! Things are beginning to draw together, and I think that I might be able to finish the book pretty easily after all... Though Flek and Zarien's story lines seem to need a good many more parts to get to the planned end than Astrid's and Jroldin's... 

Part XX: Astrid, Governor of Araelia

Date: Amanela 17th, 114 A.U.


“Hello, this is Governor Astrid’s office,” the cheerful voice said. “Unfortunately, Governor Astrid, nor her secretary, is available right now. Please leave a message after a beep.” The computer beeped.

“Greetings, Astrid,” Brother Tomas said. “This is Brother Tomas from the Great Cathedral; hey, I have word from you—I think that we found a member of Xavier’s prophesy, so-”

He was interrupted as Astrid swept the phone off the receiver. “Greetings, this is Astrid.”

“Ah, greetings!” Brother Tomas said. “As I was saying, I don’t know if you recognize me-”

“I remember some conversation we had a while back,” Astrid said. “Please, continue.”

“Anyways,” Brother Tomas said, “Today a dwarf came in—his name’s Jroldin; he’s the son of Oldin, head of the RBI. He had this glowing circlet on his head with a blue gem in it—this circlet was immaterial. Also, only believers in the Great One could see it. Due to other information, we believe him to clearly be a member of Xavier’s prophesy—the Priest-King.”

Astrid swept all of the items on her desk to the floor, the papers fluttering through the air, as she began scribbling stuff down. “How old is he?”

“Close to sixteenish I’d guess,” Brother Tomas said. “Given his name, he hasn’t had his Naming Day yet, so he wouldn’t be quite old enough…”

“I want to meet with him as soon as possible,” Astrid said. “How soon can I talk to him?”

“He said he’ll be coming back tomorrow,” Brother Tomas replied. “I’ll bring him to you then. Any specific times, or…?”

“I’ll make the time whenever you show up,” Astrid said. “I’ll have my experts on standby.”

“Great,” Brother Tomas said. “I suppose I’ll see you then, then.”

“See you then,” Astrid said, and she put down the phone. She took a couple deep breaths, and then forced herself to smile. It seemed that her speech had had some effect. In truth, that part of the speech was more to arouse her campaign supporters than anything else, but Astrid did want to raise a team for Xavier’s prophesy to take down the elves. She pushed her hand down on the intercom.

“Greta!” she said. “Please get the experts on Xavier’s team to be on stand-by notice. We’ll be having a dwarf coming in tomorrow who is suspected to be one of the members of the prophecy.”



“A recent poll came out yesterday… It was given out by the Murdok Pollster.”

“What was it?” Astrid asked. She was in the middle of a campaign meeting with her campaign manager to discuss how to best keep the lead over her rival, Iraina. The Murdok Pollster was one of the most reliable polls for elections.

“According to the poll, 13% were undecided, 34% supported Iraina, and only 53% supported you,” her campaign manager said.

Astrid sucked in her breath and bit her lip. A mere 53%... she still had a huge lead over Iraina, but the gap was continually closing. “That isn’t good,” she said.

“No, it isn’t,” her campaign manager replied. “Iraina has jumped 5% since the last poll and more have become undecided. Iraina’s campaign has gained a lot of traction since he showed his plan for launching a huge offensive assault on the elves, and the traction doesn’t seem to be stopping.”

Astrid bit her lip. Iraina had released a very vague battle plan for taking down the elves a week ago that had become a huge hit. Even though the battle plan was extremely vague, the notion that he was actually trying to make plans had given him much needed traction.

“You’re going to need to directly address his plan,” the campaign manager said. “You have the debate with Iraina in five days and that’s going to be a key topic.”

“I know…” Astrid said and groaned. “I probably should make some speech before then showing why such an offensive plan is such a bad idea… What free dates do we have?”

“We could do it right before the debate,” the campaign manager said, pulling out his calendar, marked up with all of the appointments that Astrid had. “We could try for it two hours before the debate so that you can get everyone motivated and up with you and then, as he’ll have hardly any chance to respond, you should be able to blast him with it during the debate.”

“That sounds great,” Astrid said, nodding. “Book me up then, call the news companies and everything. Do you have a speech writer yet?”

“No, but…” Suddenly the door opened and a monk in a brown habit entered in with a dwarf, upon whose head was a glowing circlet of gold, a sapphire impressed in the center.

Astrid turned to her campaign staff. “Well, like I warned, it appears that our time is going to be cut short,” she said. “So we’ll finish this at the time that we already planned ahead for tomorrow. All right?” They agreed, and the campaign manager moved out of the room as Astrid moved her swivel chair over to the intercom.

“Greta!” she said. “Please send the Xavier’s prophesy experts in!” She then released the button and turned in the chair to look at them. “Please sit down!” she gestured to some nearby seats. The two of them sat down as the Xavier’s prophesy experts entered the room. Astrid gazed at Jroldin.

“So,” Astrid said, “you’re the one who the prophesy is at least partly about.”

“Well…” Jroldin began.

“I think so,” Brother Tomas interrupted. “Of course, we might be wrong, but if we’ll right…”

“The sign does seem to be in accordance with the Priest King,” one of the experts said. “A circlet for kingship, a sapphire for priesthood—a sign upon the head of a dwarf… It’s almost too good to believe…”

“There is only one way to tell for sure,” another responded. “According to the prophesy, a sign in the sky will draw the prophesied team together…” He locked eyes with Astrid. “I believe it would be wise to send a crew above the mountains.”

Question of the Week: Who will give the moist comments on this post? (This is was from a blog where more than one people responds :P)
 
_I could probably say if anyone other than Elspeth posts, then she loses and that person wins...  and Elspeth could STILL WIN!!!

Part XIX: Number 997

Date: Amanela 11th, 114 A.U.


Number 997 nervously followed Unyihi and the other troops as they slowly moved into the old training sections of the Mothership. He knew that he had had a good reason to not want to be the one to tell Unyihi where the rebels were holed up. Number 997 quickly reviewed the ninety nine rules he was supposed to follow when in a battle.

Rule 43: Never show a trace of fear to your opponent.

They rounded the corner to startle an elf. Number 997 broke rule 43 as the elf tried to attack Unyihi. A blinding jet of fire smote him in the chest and, without resistance, the elf crumpled at Unyihi’s feet, a hole burned right through his body.

“Move quickly and stealthily,” Unyihi growled. “And let no one get past you. We must not—we will not let any escape.”

“Yes, zar!” they all said. Number 997 only mumbled it.

“Let’s move then!” Unyihi said and broke off into a quick jog, the others following. They turned the corner to find a steel hangar door in their way. There was a place to speak; it seemed like voice recognition was needed. Unyihi scanned the situation.

“All right,” Unyihi growled. “On the count of three, we’ll all let loose a lightning barrage at the door to break it down. And then we murder ‘em all. You got it?”

They all nodded. Rule 23: Conserve your lightning energy as much as possible; you never know when a greater foe might come along.

“1!” Unyihi said.

Rule 56: Always obey your superiors without question, even in your inmost self.

“2!”

Rule 82: Always aim for the weakest point possible.

“3!” Crackling energy flew through the air as all the orcs sent a barrage of lightning into the weakest point on the door—the top where it would be raised. The lightning struck it, flowing around the wall. The wall began to snap and Unyihi applied a touch of fire to the lightning. The electrical current began to find its way up to the circuits.

At that moment, Unyihi sent a beam of liquid fire to the top of the door. Fire flowed down the door and there was a huge explosion as the door fell down, flames licking the metal.

“Move!” Unyihi said and ran across the door, unaffected by the heat and flames. He whispered something and the flames disappeared. After making sure the fire was gone, Number 997 ran across with the rest of the soldiers into the old training sections of the Mothership as an alarm went off.



Alarms blared, a red light blinking on and off in Zarien’s room as he flicked the switches to turn on his leg. It took a bit for the leg to warm up, and Zarien didn’t think he had time. He managed to trip/make his way to the door and opened it. Razan was racing by.

“The front gate’s down!” Razan yelled, drawing his gun. Mind racing, Zarien hobbled down to the corner, readying his gun. He looked around the corner.

Razan, Cortna, and other elves were hidden in artifices in the wall shooting out at the group of elves and orcs running toward them. The lead orc was golden color and Zarien’s blood chilled. An orc who had both genes. And Zarien had a pretty good idea who this orc was.

A beam of fire shot out from the orc, hitting the metal walls around the artifice where one elf was. The elf gave out a horrible scream as his body melted to the wall. Zarien bit down hard. Blood began to flow from his lip.

Drawing the gun, Zarien made a shot before jumping back into the corridor. He peeked back around. The rebels were still shooting, but it was becoming apparent they had nothing. At that moment, Cortna leapt out of her artifice and, hair blowing behind her, ran toward Zarien.

“Back!” she yelled as other elves began to follow. “We’ll take them down at another spot!” Together the two of them ran down the hall.

“What-” Zarien began.

“Not now,” Cortna snapped, and then her posture changed as she looked at Zarien while she ran. “Zarien…” she said in a softer voice. “If… if I don’t survive this, I want you to know that I-”

A bolt of lightning struck Zarien’s false leg. Zarien gave a scream as his leg stopped working. Already in forward momentum, Zarien fell flat on his face as shots whistled overhead. Zarien tried to move the false leg as it slowly tried to get back to life.

“Zarien!” Cortna screamed and tried to pick him up. Zarien looked back. Only Razan and two others were still alive, running as fast as they could.


Rule 23: If you see a good opportunity, take it. Focusing his eyes on the female elf trying to help the fallen elf, Number 997 shot a narrow beam of electricity. Number 997 widened his eyes. That had been his best one yet. The electricity hit the elf and threw her backwards, sending the other elf almost to the ground, but he managed to regain his balance. The female elf hit the wall and was still.

“Woah…” one of the professionally trained orc soldiers said. Number 997 was suddenly in high spirits. At that moment, the other elves took off down another corridor.

“Number 997 and 1023, go after that other elf!” UNyihi said, gesturing to the hobbling elf turning the corner. “We’ll take the others!” And with that, Numbers 997 and 1023 were alone in the corridor.

“Let’s take him,” Number 1023 said, and the two of them raced after the elf.


“Leave,” Cortna breathlessly whispered. And then she was still. Fear running through his blood, without looking back, Zarien hobbled around the corner as his leg began to move properly. Running faster, Zarien ran toward the back entrance, but he could hear his pursuers rounding the corner.

Thinking fast, Zarien looked behind him, pointed his gun, and fired at the figure emerging from the wall. Bang! The orc fell down. Looking forward, Zarien managed to open the door and leap through it in one fluid motion.

Slamming the door shut behind him, Zarien thought fast. The escape pods to get out of the Mothership were a couple sections away—but possibly close enough. Leaping onto one of the rebel’s motorcycles, he revved up the engine and took off as the last orc broke through the door. Zarien looked behind him, and then at the road ahead. He felt a thrill of exhileration run through his blood. It was time for a chase.

Question of the Week:What is your favorite book series and why?
 
__Part Eighteen and important news for you all! I have finally plotted out the end of Book I of the Arquenia Saga. It will have thirty-six parts, and I plan to end it right before mid-semester break so that I have a week off there.  Another important fact, is that to finish it in time, I will now be also posting story parts on Thursdays to get through it all in time.  So expect a new story part this Thursday...

Part XVIII: Not Finished Yet

Date: Amanela 18th, 114 A.U.


“Urgent care right away needed! A man is having a heart attack on Raymond Drive, House 234!”

Astrid gazed forward as the hover-ambulance quickly drove down the road, sirens blaring. Michael was driving again. This time there were others in the car than just her, unlike when she had been going to help the corsha miner on Remembrance Day. Of course, that hadn’t been with a heart attack.

The ambulance arrived at the house and Astrid leapt out with another doctor and two nurses. They hurried to the door, which was opened by someone inside.

“I’m Mr. Falloway’s brother!” he said. “He’s in the living room!” As they hurried in he turned to Astrid.

“Excuse me…” he said. Astrid thought he looked a bit familiar. The others brushed by her.

“Yes?” Astrid asked.

The man gave her a piece of paper and suddenly Astrid knew why he looked so familiar. “Here’s the report you will substitute with the one the computers will generate,” he murmured. “Make sure that everything goes well. IT won’t go well for you if it doesn’t.”

Astrid glanced around, trying to gain time. “I can help you,” she suddenly blurted out.

The man seemed a bit taken aback. “How?”

“You seem to need someone in the hospital to help you with these kinds of things,” Astrid said. “Would it not be nice to have someone actively trying to help you?”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “How much do you want? No, scrap that. I’ll contact you later about this, Astrid. Just do this mission well and perhaps you’ll stand a chance.”



“Quick! Move to the hospital!” Astrid shut the doors to the back of the ambulance while the others finished securing the stretcher as the ambulance began to move. They began connecting him to wires and computers to try and keep him alive, while Astrid felt the enormous weight of the paper in her pocket. She wasn’t actually planning on joining them; their tactics made her want to vomit. But she could still try to play a pretty convincing spy.

Astrid glanced at the reports the computer was making as the man was hooked up. It was looking very similar to the report she had seen before with that Marlin guy. Astrid looked at the computer and at the report. As the doctor tried to hook him up and save his life, Astrid slowly drew out the report and quickly fidgeted with the computer to make the results seem more normal

“It looks like a Level 5 Heart Attack, sir!” Astrid said, while quickly stuffing the false report back into her report. The hospital had recently began to classify heart attacks on a certain scale. Astrid turned back and began to help them, while keeping an eye on the false report that the computer was making. And suddenly, the reality about what she was doing struck deep and pained her. She could be trying to save this man’s life—if it even could be saved, depending on what these men did to him. But instead she was falsifying a report about his heart attack.



Astrid fumbled with the key for a bit before finally getting into her house. Mr. Falloway had died before they had gotten to the hospital. Oldin was pleased that she might actually be able to get inside what was going on here—but he did give her an extreme word of caution about her life. It seemed that he wouldn’t have recommended offering to join them. He said it was way too dangerous. But Astrid had, and that was that. But still…

Astrid slowly flicked on the light switch as she moved to the kitchen. The weight of having decided to falsify the report than to try and save the man’s life, assuming he could be saved, still clung to her and pained her. She couldn’t deal with it internally. For all that she might now be a good spy, Astrid realized that she didn’t really want anything to do with it. It was a stupid decision she’d made without thinking about it. And it wasn’t as if she’d be able to get out of it now.

Astrid leaned against the fridge. She would have gone to her great-great-great-grandmother on any other day and told her everything, even if she couldn’t have responded. She still would have had someone to talk to. But now she was dead. Astrid’s mind briefly went to Monty. If she would talk to anyone about it, it would be him. Astrid slowly put her hand on the phone and was about to call him, but then she shook her head and let her hand fall to her side. She knew what Monty would say. He would tell her that she shouldn’t be doing all this lying and double-crossing.

Astrid opened the fridge to find something to ring. And then the phone rang. Almost wishing that it was Monty, she picked up the phone. It wasn’t Monty.

“Hello, Astrid,” the voice said. “I’ve come to talk to you about the little deal you proposed.

“All right,” Astrid said, biting her lip.

“Here’s the deal,” the voice said. “We’ll pay you by a case-to-case basis. Now, right now there’s a patient in the hospital who almost died from a heart attack. He needs to die. You have a package in the mail box that contains a shot and a liquid to put in the shot. We have arranged it so that tomorrow you will call upon him. I want you to inject the man with the shot. The liquid won’t be traceable.

Astrid bit her lip harder. A rivulet of blood flowed down it. “What will this shot do?”

The man laughed. “Come now, Astrid, are you really that ignorant?”

No. No I’m not. “But killing him…” Astrid began. “I’m not so-”

“It’s either he dies or you die,” the man snapped. “Don’t be stupid Astrid. You were the one who offered after all. Do this job and you’ll receive five thousand in the mail box. Either do this job or get the money, or you’ll find that no matter however much you try to hide, you’ll find yourself with a knife in your back. Goodbye Astrid.” And then the phone clicked.

Question of the Week:Should for my next post, instead of posting the next part of the Arquenia Saga, I post part of my NaNo novel?
 
__//And now for some shameless advertising. Looking for something to do for the rest of the school year that's productive, edifying, and will last eternally? Only can spend 5-10 minutes a day working on it? That's fine. I'd like to invite you to join me and other people on memorizing the story of Elijah in 1 and 2 Kings. All you need to do to memorize it is to memorize one verse a day, and by the end of the school year, you'll have 156 Bible verses memorized. All you'll need to do each day is memorize one verse (which, since it's a narrative shouldn't take too long--maybe only 5 minutes), and then review your past ones (probably 5 minutes depending on how you do it.) For more information, you can go to what the person leading the project wrote about it here, on my favorite site for reviewing Bible verses: http://www.memverse.com/blog/main/Memorize__Elijah__with_us


Anyways, I have a shorter part today... You should find this part... well... interesting, to say the least. It reveals a good bit about Flek...

Part XVII: Merely a Façade

Date: Amanela 1st, 114 A.U.


Flek leapt over to a branch of a nearby tree, which served as makeshift streets for the woodland goblins. Ever since the Great Upheaval, the goblins had been too worried to make streets or have anything out in the open that the elves could discover. Therefore, they had made their home in the huge trees of the Great Forest, using the branches of the trees as streets and the trees themselves for their buildings.

Briskly running underneath the dense foliage of the trees, Flek moved away from the main trees that compromised their city and to the outskirts, where he lived. Although most chose to rather live near the city, Flek chose to live in the outskirts, mostly alone. Where he could contemplate his true self. And where no one else would know it.

Jumping down from a branch, Flek neatly landed on the ground and opened the door to enter the tree, shutting and locking it behind him. A subconscious breath of his relief emitted from his lips as he unbuckled his two arjla corsha swords and hung them up on the hooks. Putting them up, Flek braced himself on the outer trunk of the tree.

“I know you’re here,” Flek whispered as he looked around the empty cavernous inside of the tree where he lived.

I’m always here, Flek. Flek stared straight ahead as he did his best to ignore the voice in his head. He gritted his teeth. “Why?”

You know why, Flek. You asked for me. You asked for it. Regrets?

“No!” Flek snapped. “Just stay out of my head!”

Ah Flek… the voice inside his head chuckled. Do you really want that? Do you really want me to leave?

Flek bit his lip. “Shut up.”

Shaking his head, Flek walked over to the pantry, ignoring the whispers inside his head. He had removed a piece of edible tree bark from the pantry and was walking to the table, when suddenly his body shook and the bark fell from his grasp. He stared at it as his knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground.

“What do you want?” Flek spat.

Control, Flek… control… Not to just feel the experiences and help you when you want. I am not your slave. Give me my own chances to control you.

“Why would I do that?” Flek asked.

Well, Flek, let me just ask you one thing. Do you want me to leave you? Flek bit his lip. He thought it was wisest not to answer that question. I thought not… I don’t ask much, Flek. Just to share your conscious and to be able to actually have control of a body every once and a while. Well, Flek?


“You’re a brute,” Flek said in a monotone voice.

I desire your answer, Flek.

“Fine.” Flek said. “If you don’t mind me, I’m just going to relax here while you do who knows what, Have fun, you brat.”

Ah, the language, Flek… the language… It really is unbecoming for such a great warrior as you. And without Flek willing it, his arm moved.


Amanela 3rd, 114 A.U.

“Brethren; Priests of the Mother Tree, I, Jaine, High Priest of the Mother Tree bear greetings!” the High Priest said. “Today I bring up the issue of Lord Freglak, who claims to profess belief in the Mother Tree.” Many of the priests seemed to perk up at that. “As we all know, Lord Freglak did not attend the Great Celebration of the Mother Tree two days ago. He claims to have always watched it. And yet when I questioned him, he showed himself to not be consistent in his story.”

The High Priest’s eyes narrowed. “We do not have evidence on this, but I will beg you to begin to think about him. And I ask you to question his beliefs. Does he really believe in the Mother Tree? In his public life he’s all for it. But, as we all know, his private life is a different matter, although he may try to keep it well hidden. How long, I ask you? How long will we continue to let such an idea go unnoticed.”

The High Priest licked his lips. “We do not have evidence yet to take action against him. But we can still watch and wait for him to make a mistake if he truly privately does not accept the Mother Tree. Watch him brothers. And be forewarned.”

Question of the Week: What do you think about Flek's person inside his head?