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This is a story I've been working on for a while. It is still a work in progress. I work on it as often as I can. The first couple of chapters aren't the best, so give them a chance. The title may change if I find a better one. No one is allowed to re-post this or slightly edit it to claim it as their own. If you do I will hunt you down and report you until you are permanently banned. I work very hard on this, so diamonds are greatly appreciated! Thank you!
My family and friends helped me out when I had writer's block, I couldn't have made it this far without their help!
I cough as dust from the attic above my house enters my lungs. Sarah says, “Hey Rachael, come look at what I found!” I walk around a large grandfather clock to Sarah. When I see what she is holding, I feel a pang of sadness. “One of Mom’s rings,” I say. Sarah just nods. The ring looks to be white gold, with a large group of rubies and emeralds in the center. Suddenly Evan shouts from the other end of the attic, “Come here! I found something I think you should see!” Sarah quickly slips Mom’s ring into a little box from her pocket and we start running to him.
When we get to Evan we see a yellowed envelope in his hands. He hands it to me and I read the neat cursive aloud, “To Rachael and Sarah. Do not open until you are fourteen.” Sarah looks at me and Evan pulls out his pocket knife and slits open the top. My fingers are slightly trembling as I reach in to pull out a piece of paper. Unfolding it, I let out a small gasp. Shocked, I say “It’s from Mom!”
The letter reads,
‘To My Darling Daughters,
Always remember that your parents love you. Since I do not have much time, I will get right down to the point. About two years before you were born, I had a son. However, it was the bitterest winter that either your father or I remember and we were starving. Another mouth to feed would have made all three of us starve to death. Our good friend James, the blacksmith from Soldier’s Rest, offered to take him and we accepted. He named him Evan. The creatures of the Nightmoore Woods are attacking more often. Just yesterday your father was attacked by wolves on a solo hunting mission. This is going to come as a shock to you, but he is alive. For about a year now we have been preparing to live in a fortress on a large mountain called Warrior’s End. He is there now with James. In a month or so I will be joining him. I want you to come to us. Find your brother and convince him to come with you. Rachael, Sarah, please come home.
Your Mother,
Jack’
When I finish reading the letter I feel a tear slide down my cheek. Beside me, Sarah is sobbing. When I look up at Evan and he looks pale and is trembling. I feel angry and happy. There is an old chair sitting a couple of feet away and I stumble into it. When I reach up to brush a hair out of my eyes I realize that my face is soaked in tears.
Sarah suddenly races downstairs and I follow her. I find Sarah outside, by the stream. “You know, I used to have dreams where they were still alive. But when I woke up, I thought that there was no chance that they were. Now that I know that Mom and Dad are alive and that they just abandoned us, I don’t know what to feel.” She says when she sees me. “If they are still alive then you should feel happy. If you feel mad then don’t worry because I’m so mad right now I want to scream.” I say after a short pause.
Suddenly a rider on a large blue roan bolts through the woods. The screen door slams open and Evan runs out. The mystery rider jumps off his horse and heads straight to him. By this time Sarah and I are already up and halfway there. Since the horse is coated in sweat I am incredibly worried. “-fire, Evan!” is all I hear the stranger say by the time I get there. “What, fire? Where?” I say, remembering the attack on Soldiers Rest not quite a month ago. As I say this Evan already has his horse, Moor, out and is throwing a saddle on her back. “His house.” The mystery man says grimly. Then, without a word, he jumps on the roan and turns her to Evan and Moor. I take off to the barn where Sarah has Shadow and Snow saddled up.
Leaping onto Shadow, I take off after Evan, who a moment ago had raced into the woods. I hear the pounding of hooves behind me and know that Sarah and the mystery horseman had done the same. Fear for Evan is the only feeling I have right now. After a couple of moments, I spot him ahead of me. I leap over a log and lose him again.
A few minutes later I break out of the trees and see a blazing inferno about ten yards in front of me. Then I see Evan staggering to his house with his fists clenched. I jump off of Shadow as Sarah and the other rider appears behind me. Sarah and I start walking to Evan. I feel like I am about to cry and a quick glance at Sarah proves she feels the same. By the time we get to him Evan is on his knees. When I put my hand on his shoulder he quietly says, “I grew up in this house. Everything I own is being destroyed.”
As Evan stands up the strange man walks over to us. He says, “What are you going to do now, Evan?” “Well, Jeremiah, I will have to stay at the inn until I rebuild.” Evan sadly replies. “Evan, you can stay with us! If you want, that is.” Sarah exclaims. With a very slight smile, Evan says, “If it is alright with Rachael, I would absolutely love to.” He looks at me and I reply, “Of course you can Evan!” “Thank you so much! And since I don’t have anything to pack, then let's be off!” he says.
An hour and a half later, Evan, Sarah, Jake, and I stand in his new room, which used to be the guest room. As I look around the room I feel a wave of pride. “Thank you so much for letting me live here and helping me get settled,” Evan says. “No problem! It will be nice!” Sarah replies with a smile. “Now, if you don’t mind, I am going to go see how Moor is getting along,” Evan says as he turns to walk out the room. “Of course! I am going to go check some traps and maybe do some hunting.” I exclaim.
I walk into my room and grab my shotgun and about fifty rounds of bird shot and thirty slugs. After strapping my knife to my belt I walk into the living room. I call Jake and walk outside to the stream. I pause and after a moment turn and head downstream to a large pond filled with fish and duck surrounded by strawberry bushes.
As I climb over a large log I see a large pond. After a moment I see some ducks among a large cluster of rocks where a waterfall is cascading down. I tell Jake to sit, a new trick I taught him, and raise my shotgun to my shoulder. Seeing a cluster of about five ducks, I fire and bring three of them down. Firing the shotgun scared them off, but I see several large fish swimming in the pond. I walk over to a large hollow log and reach in, finding a fishing pole I stashed there to keep it safe. I call Jake over and climb onto a large rock overlooking the water.
An hour later I have caught a catfish and two Koi. “We better be getting home now, buddy,” I say to the dog. I stand up to go put my pole back when I see the large cave behind the waterfall. Signaling for the dog to come to me, I slowly creep towards the cave.
Upon entering the cave, I see that it has been lived in. I am about to leave when I see the shirt hanging on the back of a rickety old chair. When I see the tear in the right sleeve I let out a small gasp, because I am the one who caused it.
It was a warm summer morning and I had been playing with a little wood horse. I wanted to make it fly so I put it in my slingshot and launched it. Unfortunately, the horse landed in the middle of a large rose bush. Running to Dad, I asked him to get it for me. When I showed him where it was he reached in and grabbed the horse. As he drew it out, his sleeve caught on a thorn, causing a large L shaped rip.
Grabbing the shirt, I race home. When I see Sarah grooming Snow and Evan grooming Moor, I shout, “Sarah! Evan! Look what I found!” As I run up, Sarah says “That is Dad’s old shirt! Where did you find it?” “In a cave behind the waterfall at the pond downstream! Follow me!”
We run in silence until I hear water. “We’re almost there!” I shout. When we break through the trees, Evan and I hear a scream as Sarah plunges through the muddy earth. I shriek to Evan, “A sinkhole! Grab the longest, thickest vine you can find!” He nods and races to a pile of boulders with vines draped around them. “Are you alright, Sarah? Answer me, please!” I say down to Sarah. Suddenly I hear a short shriek of terror. “Sarah!” Evan and I shout at the same time. “I’m OK, but there’s a body down here! And he looks like he’s been down here for a long time!” I sigh in relief when I hear her voice, but frown when the rest of what she said sinks in.
Automatically, I go into investigation mode. “Are there any identifying features on him?” I ask. “I would tell you if I could see him clearly. It's really dark down here.” Sarah replies. I take a matchbook out of one of my many pockets on my cloak and toss it down. Suddenly a small fire blossoms and I see that she used three matches together. “Whoa! This guy was ugly! From what’s left of his skull, it looks like his nose was broken in about six places.” “Can you find any belongings?” I ask as Evan runs back to throw a massive vine with a knot in the end down the hole. Suddenly she gasps. “A Blade of Broken Victory! I know who he was! Get me up there!”
We sit around the table as Sarah begins her story. “When I was little Dad would tell me stories about a great king. One day while hunting in the woods, the king and his guard were attacked by bandits. The entire guard was destroyed, while the king managed to escape. Close to death, he found a cave and crawled in, thinking it was a suitable place for a king to die. Upon entering, however, he saw that it was filled from top to bottom with mountains of gold and jewels. As he leaned against one of the piles, a large black dagger fell from the top and entered his chest, spearing his heart. In his last moments, he yanked the blade from his heart.
For a thousand years, the king lay in a deathlike sleep, while the dagger grew and became a sword. Until one wintry night, when the king’s eyes snapped open and his fingers grasped the hilt of the sword by his side. In that moment, the words Blade of Forgotten Kings was etched into the black iron.
Over the next forty years, the Shadow King amassed his great Army of the Night and began his terrifying reign of darkness over the Northlands, for when he stabbed someone, they lost their souls and became his slaves. He began to push south, creating an eternal winter in his wake. He had thousands of dark swords made, each with the words Blade of Broken Victory etched into the blade. However, he was fought by a small army of farmers and blacksmiths and was never able to push very far.
There was a fort where the best soldiers came from and the Shadow King wanted it because it was the only way he could win. If he lost this battle, he would be destroyed. When the Army of the Night arrived at the fort, he found the entire army there waiting for him. And that is how the Battle for Soldiers Rest began.
The Army of the Night was defeated, yet before the Shadow King was slain he exclaimed ‘When a Blade of Broken Victory is found I will rise again! One day I will rule with a greater fist! One day the Prophecy of the Shadow King will be fulfilled!’”
I stare dumbstruck at Sarah and the at the blade laying in the middle of our kitchen table. When her story sinks in fully I stand and as I jog to my room I say, “We have to go to Warrior’s End right now. Pack only the bare essentials. We travel light.” I feel nothing as I turn into my room and grab my saddlebags off of my dresser and start shoving ammunition and knives into one and a spare change of clothes in the other one. Hesitating a moment, I run to the basement and grab a flask filled with water and some smoked mutton in a burlap bag.
When I get back into the kitchen I find Evan and Sarah with their saddlebags in their hands staring at the Blade of Broken Victory. I stare too, confused until Sarah asks me if I want to carry it or should she. Too nervous to answer, I just grab it and strap it to my belt and walk out the door to get Shadow.
I grab my saddle when I walk into the barn and walk straight over to Shadow’s stall. When I see him he looks kind of nervous and when I walk forward he rears and paws the air. “Whoa, boy! What's the matter buddy, is it the Blade?” I undo my belt and slide off the Blade of Broken Victory and ease it closer to him, low and near the side of his head so that he can see it better. When that doesn’t work I grab a handful of oats from a bucket next to me and feed them to him. While he eats, I slowly rub the Blade across his belly and face. “That’s better. Good boy.” I say in a soothing tone.
Five minutes later, we take off into the woods towards Warriors End using a map that was in the envelope with the letter. “I wonder what Warrior’s End will be like,” Sarah says over the thundering hooves. I frown as I think of what we might, and might not, find. “You never know,” Evan replies to her. “Keep an eye out for a place to camp. It’s getting dark.” I say with a glance at the sky. “How about there?” Sarah says as she slows her horse and points to a stone overhang on a cliff. “It looks fine to me from here, let's get a closer look,” I say.
“Perfect!” I exclaim as I finish spreading out my bedroll. A quick glance to each side of me shows that Evan and Sarah have finished with each of theirs. “We should probably get some rest now. I’ll keep first watch.” I say as I toss a couple of logs onto the fire. Sarah and Evan mumble their agreement and walk to their bedrolls as I lean against a large boulder with my gun next to me.
At about midnight I stand up to wake Sarah up for the second watch. I am shaking her shoulder when suddenly Evan shouts and is yanked off of the edge of the cliff. Sarah and I race to the edge and look down about twenty feet to where Evan lies unconscious on a tiny lip. Seeing a small rocky path, we race down to him.
“It looks bad, Rachael. What do we do?” Sarah asks. “We have to get him back up there to tr-” I break off as Evan is jerked from in front of us. “Grab him!” I shout to Sarah as I lunge for his arm. He slips off the edge and I think that we are going to lose him when my fingers close around his wrist.
Sarah races back down the cliff face to where Evan and I are dangling precariously and slowly hauls us back up. I help her as best I can but the liquid on my face is beginning to burn. Once we are up I immediately wipe my face on my shirt sleeve, being careful to get it clean and watch in amazement as the fabric begins to slowly recede. I take my canteen and pour half the water onto my sleeve and the purple liquid disappears in a puff of black fire. "What the heck was that?" Sarah asks. Gasping for air, I say, "I have no idea, but I'm more interested in who, or what fired that crossbow bolt with the dragon's blood!"
I pour the rest of the contents of my canteen onto Evan's face, not having time for him to wake on his own. He sits up, gasping, and I let him sit for a minute. "You OK?" I ask. He groans and lays back down on the hard black stone and says with a groan, "I-I think so." I help him up and we begin to slowly make our way back up to the camp. I look back every once in a while, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever shot that crossbow and to make sure that the purple vine is not coming back for more. We make it back up to the camp and I look back once more just in time to see a figure moving in the darkness.
As soon as I register what I've just seen I realize that the mysterious figure is raising their crossbow to fire another shot. "Take cover!" I shout to warn Sarah and Evan. I leap behind a boulder and Sarah tosses me my gun from where she is hidden in a small cave. "You alright Evan?" Sarah asks. "Evan?" I look around and see him lying face-down on the ground about thirty feet to my right. "Evan! He's over there!" I point and Sarah gasps when she sees what I do not. "He's been hit!" When I hear her words I raise my .270 to my shoulder and aim at the shadows where our enemy lies in wait. I shriek when suddenly a bolt comes out of nowhere and hits my gun, throwing it over my head and I groan when it strikes the black stone wall behind me.
I am just drawing my Revolver from its holster when a couple dozen ropes drop from higher up on the cliff face and armed, armored men and women slide down. A tall woman -- most likely the leader -- touches her left arm and suddenly our guns and knives are yanked out of our hands and slide to a stop at her feet. With a glance at Evan and a flick of her hand, a white-cloaked figure runs forward and rubs some salve on his wounds. Although I know that we have absolutely no chance unarmed against this many armed warriors, I leap to my feet. When Sarah realizes what I'm doing, she walks out of her cave to stand next to me. I nod and I am about to race forward to fight when I suddenly realize that the only group of strong warriors out here would be from Warrior's End.
"Who are you and where are you from?" I ask the leader hesitantly. After a moment, she pulls back her hood and says, "You have no right to be questioning us. However, your quick thinking and courage in fighting that Periculum Vine was admirable. We are a patrol from Warrior's End." Thrilled, I exclaim "You're from Warrior's End? My name is Rachael Black, this is my sister Sarah Black, and our brother, Evan Reagan!" I watch, confused, as a look of shock spreads over the woman's face and the rest of the patrol begins to talk among themselves in hushed voices. "Collect your things and follow us." The leader says.
I run over and roll up my bedroll. After I secure it in my saddlebags, I saddle up Shadow and see Sarah do the same with her's and Evan's stuff. I quickly untie Jake and two warriors stride forward to lay Evan on his horse's back. I lead Shadow over to the rest of the patrol and follow them up to the top of the cliff and away toward Warrior's End.
Half an hour later, we arrive at a pair of massive stone gates. Sarah and I watch in amazement as they slide open as if by magic. Once we are on the other side, however, I see that they were pulled open by a pair of an unfamiliar breed of dragon. "Welcome to Warrior's End." The tall woman says.
Sarah and I exchange an amazed glance and we hear a low whistle from Evan. Either the tall woman didn’t notice us slow, or she didn’t care because she continued with her long strides. Catching up with her, I hesitate before asking “Excuse me, ma’am? I didn’t catch your name.” Without looking at me, she said, “Lieutenant Amelia Masen of Warrior’s End. I suggest you stay silent until after I speak with the General Black. You may ask questions later.” By the time that she has finished speaking, we are at the entrance of a large stone building and I fall back to Sarah and Evan in silence.
Upon first glance, the dimly lit interior seems sparsely furnished and has a certain utilitarian air about it, but after a moment you begin to see the genius behind the decorations. Some such ways as how the dark oak floors contrast perfectly with the pine chests, how the torches highlight the cherry table in the perfect places to ensure that the faded maps would be adequately lit while the bare wood would be cloaked in shadow, and how the white spots accented the jet black furs covering the throne at the end of the table perfectly. Of course, all of that was lost on me the moment my eyes wandered to the face of the woman sitting in the chair. Her red-brown hair held hints of gray, and her emerald eyes stood out against her pale skin. It was a familiar face, although I had not seen it in years. It was the face of our mother.
Shock grips me, and it is all that I can do to stop from running over to the face that, until recently, I thought was dead. I suddenly remember Sarah and Evan when I hear a small noise from behind me. Looking back, Sarah’s face looks half frozen between a smile and a sob, and I know that my face looks similar. My attention is drawn back to our mother when I hear a voice that was all but forgotten. “My babies! You have come back to me!” My head whips back around on its own accord and I am knocked backward as Mom rushes forward in an embrace. I am suddenly a little girl again and I am sobbing, overwhelmed. Tears stream down my face as she stares each of us in the face in turn, the look on her face of pure joy.
“Mom!” I look around, confused when I realize which face I do not see. “Where is Dad?” Her face falls at the mention of her husband and her eyes tear up. “Sit. About a year and a half after I got here, there was an.. accident. The lookout towers had been wood back then, and a massive lightning storm passed through. The east tower was struck, and two particularly large Doomcats came through. Frightened by the storm, they attacked your father. He managed to last until some soldiers could come fight them off. Five men were killed on the spot, two were dragged away and never found, and seven died of their wounds later. Your father was one of the seven.”
With a sob, all I can see is my father’s blonde hair and his blue-gray eyes. I remember all the times he would teach me how to shoot, how he would gently guide my hands when he taught me how to make tiny animal carvings, and when he went into the woods alone, promising that he would see me again. How he would never fulfill that promise. I thought I knew what never seeing him again would feel like, but I was wrong. I was way wrong. This hurts so much more than when he faked his death. Maybe it is just because I got my hopes up about seeing him again, or maybe some part of me knew that he wasn’t dead when he left. Maybe it is simply the fact that I understand more about what death means. Whatever it is, it hurts. It hurts deep inside the very core of my being. Another choked sob escapes my lips and the tears begin to flow.
Several hours later, we are in another room. This time, it is empty except for the large stone table covered with maps in the center of the room. “The Shadow King’s army is here,” Mom says, tapping the far north end of one map. “We are here, roughly two hundred miles from the front line. Although we are that far away, scouts often make it close. My soldiers stop them in their tracks once they make it to that canyon. It’s getting late now, and you must be tired after your journey. Amelia, could you please show them their rooms?” I am about to protest, but my words are cut off with a yawn and I can just nod in agreement. Sarah and Evan walk behind me as I follow Amelia out and across the fortress to several buildings clustered closely together near some waving wheat and corn fields. “This one is yours, Evan. That one over there is yours, Sarah. Rachael, yours is just over here.” Amelia walks over to one a little higher onto a hill. After Evan and Sarah have disappeared inside, I turn to her. “Lieutenant Masen?” She smiles. “Please, just Amelia.” “Amelia. I was wondering, maybe could you teach me how to fight? I know a little, I just want to know some more just in case.” I hold my breath, knowing that what she could teach me would be invaluable. “Of course! Meet me at noon tomorrow on the southern end of the training grounds. Dress appropriately.” With a smile, I agree and tell her goodnight. After I change, I climb into the small bed in the corner and let the rest of the tears over my father fall.
The next morning, I wake up stiff and exhausted to one sharp horn blast. I walk over to the huge oak dresser in the corner and pull on deep blue-gray pants and a coarsely woven light gray shirt. Walking over to the door, I grab my boots and pull them on. I stand and step outside to see Sarah and Evan near the training area, talking. I wave to them and start heading toward them when two more sharp horn blasts echo around the fortress. I jog over to them and ask what they meant, confused. “What was that for?” “Lieutenant Masen explained it to us. One sharp blast means to wake up or go to bed, two means time to eat, three means a drill, and two long blasts means that we’re under attack. One means it’s time for a meeting. The mess hall is over there.” I follow them to the long building and walk inside to see a massive table laden with all types of meats and loaves of bread. I take a couple of sweet cakes and sit in one of three chairs next to Mom and I eat, watching everyone intently.
After everyone is finished eating, Mom stands and dismisses everyone. I wander outside and walk around slowly and aimlessly, not sure what to do until noon. Finding my way to a quiet forested area at the north end of the fortress, I sit under a large weeping willow near a small creek and end up dozing off. I open my eyes to see my father facing off against two Doomcats, alone. I run through the rain and I am about to reach him when the larger one pounces. I run harder, but the mud begins to suck me down. Clawing at the mud, trying to drag myself back out of the quicksand to him, I scream when the large one lands a blow to Dad’s head, rendering him unconscious. A small patrol of fighters run up and most of them are killed, but they manage to fight the Doomcats away. I just manage to see them load Dad onto a stretcher and carry him away when the mud swallows me, and my eyes snap open to reality. Shaking, I stand and notice that it is almost noon, and I slowly begin to head back to the main area of the fortress for my training session with Amelia. Somehow, I manage to hold the tears back.
I round a corner to see Amelia tapping her foot impatiently, a curved sword strapped to her waist. “You're three minutes late. I’m not going to train you if you are going to not show up on time.” She must have seen the look on my face, because her voice gentles. “You started having the nightmares, didn’t you? Don’t worry, it’s normal.” Amelia’s voice grows distant and her good eye gets a faraway look. “My mother was sick when I was born. She died bringing me into this world. When I was ten, my father died in a freak accident. Last year, both of my brothers died on the front lines. Each time, I had nightmares for a long time afterward. We’d better start now.” She hands me a sword, and I automatically step into a fighting stance. Briefly, I wonder if she is actually going to hit me with it before I notice that the sword has been extremely dulled. She lunges and my sword lashes out in a shining silver arc, just barely managing to smack her blade out of the way. We continue like this for the next hour, and I end up bruised and sore. At the very end, I manage to parry her blow and I land my first strike for the entire day on her left arm. She praises me and takes her sword into a little shack where it will be safe from the elements, and I hang mine up next to hers on the rack.
Several minutes later, I am walking into my house when Sarah runs up behind me. “How was training? Did you have fun?“ I groan when I knock my shin against a chest and reply, “It was cool. I’m really sore, though. I think I’m just going to sit down now.” I ease into a chair and put my feet up, falling asleep within minutes. The same nightmare as earlier begins and I am trapped as if within a trance to watch my father die. I wake up with a scream twenty minutes later and it takes me quite a long time after that to calm myself down enough to go outside.
I find my way to a small cluster of buildings and I see Sarah standing behind a house. Just as I am about to call out, I see that she is talking to a young black haired man. Silently, I step around the corner and I move to the trees, silently stalking forward until I am close enough to hear what they are saying, while still invisible. “And then he lurches around the corner, covered in sticks and mud and he lets loose this terrifying growl and all the kids run, screaming! It was so funny!” The look on the stranger's face as he says this is like he is trying hard to impress Sarah, and her response tells me that it is working. “That is so funny! Tell me more.” The way she laughed when she says that makes me grind my teeth together. She has never laughed like that before! Back home, before Mom and Dad left, we would go to the school and we would hear the rich girls who always looked down their noses at us laugh exactly like that. We vowed to never laugh like that, no matter what happened. What was happening to my sister?
When the horn announcing dinnertime blasts, Sarah tells him that she had better go meet me, which makes me even more annoyed, and before she turns to leave he kisses her cheek! Every muscle in my body is instantly tense and I just barely stop myself from leaping out of my concealment to confront them. Sarah walks toward the mess hall and I run through the trees to find Evan, wanting to tell him everything before I asked her about it. I find him near the door to the mess hall, and before he can say anything, I blurt out what happened. “I went to go find Sarah and I saw her talking to someone about your age, and he was telling her a story but then she laughed like a bratty rich girl and then he kissed her! She’s on her way and I don’t know if I should talk to her in the mess hall or after we eat or before we go in or if I should talk to her at all!” He looks at me with a slightly confused expression before his face looks angry and his protective older brother instincts kick in. “We act like everything is normal while we eat, and then once we’re done lead her to that big tree over there.” He jerks his head in the direction of a large oak. “We confront her then.” I just nod because Sarah is walking toward us and I smile and wave. When she reaches us we walk inside and sit down in our same places as earlier.
An hour later, we walk outside and I casually lead her over to the oak. Evan walks over once we reach it and I casually begin talking. “So, Sarah, I was looking for you before dinner. Where were you?” Her face becomes guarded and she lies. “Oh, I’ve just been exploring. I was near the north tower.” Evan grows tense and my voice grows harder. “Oh, really? Why, then, did I see you next to the west tower? What is his name, Sarah? Is he really worth you breaking a vow to impress?” Her face betrays her shock, and she feigns to the right before darting to the left. Evan grabs her arm and she squirms. “Let me go!” I walk toward her, my face stony. “Not until you agree to tell us all about your boyfriend.” I sneer on the word. With a sigh, she slumps and tells us what we want to know. “His name is Fox Reagan. I met him yesterday after we met Mom.” My face loses its stony quality and I almost smile. Almost. “Why didn’t you tell us about him? We want to meet him, you know.” I look at Evan, who has been silent through this entire ordeal and quickly add to my statement. “After Evan cools down a bit.” She smiles briefly at this and I smile back, forgiving her. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow to work something out. In the meantime, it’s going to be lights out in an hour, I’m going to go home. Goodnight Rachael, Evan.” I nod goodnight and I head back home. Once I get inside, I change and clean my guns, just finishing as the lights out horn blasts. I crawl under the blankets on my bed and I’m out within minutes.
My family and friends helped me out when I had writer's block, I couldn't have made it this far without their help!
Description
Three siblings. Two armies. One war. Can Rachael, Sarah, and Evan stop the army of the dead from destroying everything they know?
Chapter One
I gently placed my foot down on the dry leaves. Raising my gun to my shoulder, I aimed at a large buck’s side. Hardly daring to breathe, I pulled the trigger. The buck dropped where he stood. “Good shot, Rachael!” my best friend and sister, Sarah, exclaimed. I muttered thanks and went to inspect my kill. I hit the heart, but slightly lower than what I had wanted. “I was a little low, though,” I told her. It was getting late. “We should be getting home.” Sarah helped me split the deer and she slung her half over her shoulder. She started walking home but turned back around when she realized I wasn’t following. I crouched down and saw a massive paw print in the mud on the other side of a bush. With a jolt of terror, I recognized what it belonged to. I signaled for Sarah to quietly come. When she saw the print she whispered a name that even the most experienced hunter fears. The paw print belonged to a Doomcat.
Doomcats live in the Whispering Caves, three miles from here. They are tan like a normal mountain lions, but Doomcats are about eleven feet long, twice as large as a mountain lion. They are also nearly impossible to kill. If you are being hunted by a Doomcat, then you are going to die.
I quickly took my half of the buck and slung it over my shoulder, on the opposite side of my gun. Sarah then quietly said to stay low but move fast. I nodded and then started in the direction of the town. We were about twenty feet from our back door when we passed under a huge oak tree. From high up in the oak, we heard a loud, low growl. Both Sarah and I snapped our heads up, spotted a tan pelt, and then started running to the house. Although I knew that it wouldn’t hurt the Doomcat, I managed to get my shotgun ready to fire. Sarah slammed open the door and started firing at the Doomcat. I pushed her through the doorway and ran inside after her, slamming the door behind me.
Twenty minutes later, I stared out the small dirty window. It began to snow. “The Doomcat hasn’t left yet.” I uneasily reported. “It won’t leave until it either finds other prey or gets one of us.” Sarah had been watching out the front when suddenly she urgently whispered “Arcfang! Rachael, there is an Arcfang out front!”
I raced to the cracked front window and my fears were confirmed. The gentle snow had transformed into a raging blizzard in the time it took me to sprint across the room. After a moment of peering out the window, I spotted a massive wolf-like silhouette. Other than the difference in size from the Arcfang to the average wolf, it was snow white, only appear in the fiercest of blizzards, and between its two front fangs was the telltale arcing of ten amps, one hundred times the amount of electricity it takes to kill the average human.
Although it seemed incredibly unlucky to have one of each of the two of the most dangerous species of creatures waiting for us to leave our tiny, rickety shelter I realized that it was incredibly lucky for us to have two species that hate each other and always have. When I told Sarah my plan she responded with a “Sounds very, very dangerous. Bundle up before you try to put it in action.”
My plan is to run outside, get the Arcfang’s attention, lead it to the Doomcat, and race inside as fast as I possibly can. So many things can go wrong, but I don’t hear any other ideas. As I run to get my snow boots out of the closet and onto my feet, Sarah gets my thick snowsuit and heavy winter jacket.
She helps me put the jacket on in silence. I am walking towards the front door when Sarah says, “Rachael, run fast.” I nod and step onto the porch. It takes me a moment to find the Arcfang’s shadowy form in the biting cold fury of the blizzard raging around me. In a moment of terror and uncertainty, I freeze. When he tips his head back and releases an ear-splitting howl it breaks me out of my trance and I shout and take off around the side of the porch. I look over my shoulder and immediately realize that it was a mistake. I hear a shriek and realize that it is coming from me. I skid around the corner to the back of the house when the prowling Doomcat sees me. With a roar, it pounces and plants a huge paw on my chest. I take my little Revolver and shoot the Doomcat smack in the middle of his large nose, causing less pain than a mosquito bite. With a vicious growl, he raises a massive paw to hit my head with enough force to decapitate me.
Suddenly a mysterious force yanks the Doomcat off of my chest. In its claws is a shred of thick black fabric from my jacket. Without it, I would’ve been yanked up, too. It takes me a moment to find the form of the Doomcat in the snow, but I soon find it, convulsing wildly in the air. It takes me a moment to recognize the massive form of the Arcfang. I manage to get up and run to the back porch. Somehow, the Doomcat manages to escape the jaws of the Arcfang and is racing as fast as it can back to the woods. The Arcfang simply looks at it and starts running after the Doomcat. I watch the Arcfang until it is out of sight. By then the vicious blizzard is gone, too.
Chapter Two
A loud knock at the front door startles me awake. I get up out of bed and wrap my robe around me. Across the hall, I hear Sarah’s bedroom door open. I open my door and go with her to see who would be knocking at four thirty in the morning. Sarah opens the front door and the blacksmith from the nearby village is standing there. He says “Get ready fast, the village is under attack.” Sarah nods and we run back to our rooms to get dressed. Reaching into my closet, I put on a pair of jeans and a forest green long sleeve shirt. I pull my reddish brown hair back in a braid that ends midway down my back and throw on a pair of black combat boots. From the corner, I grab a large bolt action .270 rifle, my Revolver, and about five hundred rounds of spare ammunition for each. I strap a large black knife to my belt. Over the years, this knife has saved me many times, whether from a wolf or starvation. I smile as I remember my dad handcrafting the deadly blade.
I race outside with Sarah on my heels and found the Blacksmith mounting a buckskin horse. He had readied Snow, Sarah’s horse, and Shadow, my horse. I jumped on my jet black gelding with the white star on his forehead, while Sarah got on her white mare. We nod at each other and ride into the woods, letting the shadows swallow us.
We ride in silence until I see the flicker of flame and smell smoke. There is something off about the smell. I shout to the Blacksmith, “That doesn’t smell like the normal torched house. It smells more like a dragon’s breath.” He responds without turning, “You’re right. Silverfangs, Green Deaths, Bluetongues, and...” The Blacksmith hesitates. “And what?” Sarah asks. “Goldspitters.” When I hear him say this, I almost fall out of my saddle. “Are you sure?” I demand. “There are fifteen gold dragons. Everyone around them falls and convulses on the ground and then are still. What else could it be?” I think to myself, FIFTEEN Goldspitters? How are two fourteen-year-old girls going to help in a fight against a force like THAT? Out loud I say “How many of the other dragons? How many losses to either side?” “Counting the dead, five Silverfangs, nine Green Deaths, and three Bluetongues. When I left there was two dead Silverfangs, One dead Green Death, and no Bluetongues. At least thirty of the people from the village are dead. I barely made it to your place.”
By the time he finishes saying this, we arrive. I jump down and Shadow takes off back into the woods, safe. I know he will wait at the tree line and that he will come when I call him. Snow and the Blacksmith’s buckskin do the same. I nod at Sarah and we run to where a small girl, who looks to be about eight, is bravely shooting at a large Bluetongue. I take my .270 and aim for the beast’s right eye. When I see the flow of bright green blood and hear the roar of pain, I know I did not miss. I shout at Sarah, “Keep going for her eyes and wings! I’m going in!” When I see the horrified look on her face, I know that she knows what I am planning to do.
I jump onto the dragons thrashing red tail and run up to her back. I take my knife and pry off a scale between her massive shoulders. I then dig with my blade until I see a pounding heart. Once I see my target, I take my Revolver and press the barrel against the thrashing muscle and pull the trigger.
The next minute comes in a series of still pictures. The first one is a bright burst of flame towards the sky. I shriek as a tongue of fire licks across my right calf. The next is the Bluetongues huge tail headed straight for Sarah. In the third, the tail smashing into Sarah and throwing her towards the cliff. The fourth still shot is me diving after my falling sister. I grab her hand and start to slip. Somehow before I fall out of arm’s length of the edge, I just manage to catch hold the edge of the crumbling stone with my grasping fingers. In the fifth I see the Blacksmith’s face, I have never before in my life been so happy to see someone, and his hand grasping my slipping arm. He hauls us up and suddenly the rush of adrenaline from falling wears off and I start screaming in pain from the burn on my calf.
Sarah calls Snow, the Blacksmith’s mare, and Shadow. Apparently, the Blacksmith was prepared because he reaches into his saddlebag and produces some burn medicine and bandages. He smears some paste on my burn and wraps it up. Before I black out I say, “Thanks, Blacksmith” He smiles and I can barely hear him say “My name is Evan.” before I pass out.
Chapter Three
I open my eyes with a start. When I move to stand up I cry out when I put pressure on my right leg. Sarah rushes in and coaxes me back onto my bed. She says “Rachael! I’m so glad you’re finally awake! I will be right back. Stay there!” She then rushes out my room and I hear the front door slam open. I hear her shouts as she races out to the barn. When two sets of feet run back into the living room I wonder who else is here. Sarah appears around the corner and into my room with this strange man behind her. He seems familiar but I can’t quite place him.
The stranger asked me, “Do you have any questions? I will answer as best I can.” Over the next three minutes, I ask him how long I have been unconscious, how did my leg get hurt so bad, and who he was. He says that I have been out of it for five days and that his name is Evan. When he tells me what his name is I start to remember everything that happened. I say, “Soldiers Rest was attacked. I got my burn killing a Bluetongue. You saved us from falling.” Suddenly I remember all of the Goldspitters and shoot up straight. “Oh no! What happened to Soldiers Rest and everyone in it?” I exclaim.
Evan and Sarah try to convince me to lay back down but I don’t want to so we settle on propping my pillows up for me to lay on. “After we put you on Snow with Sarah and we got you where you are now, a ship full of soldiers came to have a place to stay for the night on their way home from the wars in the Northern Wastelands. When they saw what was happening they helped us fight off the dragons. They lost twenty men but we would all have been slaughtered without them.” Evan tells me. “They stayed for two days and helped us put out the fires, rebuild, treat the injured, and bury the dead.”
Later that evening Evan leaves. He gives me a tube of the medicine he had put on my burn five days earlier and tells me to apply it before bed each night and to always have it wrapped up. The next morning as Sarah and I are eating our breakfast of bread and rabbit she asks me how my leg is doing and if I think that maybe we could go hunting today. “It doesn’t hurt too bad anymore. I think that I could go. We are low on food anyway.” I respond.
I finish my breakfast and put my plate in the dirty dishes basket to take it to the stream and wash it later. “Let me get the .270 and then we can go hunting,” I tell Sarah as I walk down the hall to my room. I reach next to my bed and grab the gun and head back into the kitchen where I see Sarah with her shotgun on her back and her hand on the doorknob. “You ready?” She asks. “Yeah. If you are, too, then let's go.” I reply.
We are about halfway to the tree line when we pass a thick patch of tall, dry grasses. Suddenly Sarah cries out and stumbles back about a foot and falls to the ground. I run to her side and find two twin pinpricks on her calf and immediately know that she has been bitten by a rattlesnake. When I look towards where she had been standing I see a massive Diamondgreen rattlesnake and I pull out my knife. I throw the large blade and it cuts the snake in half about an inch from the base of its head.
I begin to half drag, half carry Sarah the fifteen feet to the house. Her weight makes me stumble when I attempt to get her through the doorway and I accidentally smack the back of her hand against the inside of the door. She moans as I sit her at the kitchen table. I open the cabinet containing medicine and grab a needle that reads ‘Diamondgreen’ in plain black letters on the label from a couple years back when I got bit searching for frogs near the stream. When I get back to Sarah, I inject the antidote into her leg.
After I put her on her bed and arrange the blankets around her in a comfortable looking manner I get two glasses of water, one for me and one to put on a table next to her bed just in case she is thirsty when she wakes up. I slowly sip my water as I watch her. I remember that in a couple of hours Evan was going to come help around the house since there is so much to do after I was unconscious for so long. My eyes begin to close as I start to drift off to sleep.
I hear someone whisper my name and feel someone shaking my shoulder. “Huh? What? I’m awake.” I say as I groggily open my eyes. Evan looks at me and says, “What happened to Sarah?” When I tell him what happened he gives her a concerned glance and replies. “Let me watch her for a while. You should go hunting or something.” I tell him thanks and head to the kitchen to grab my gun from where I left it propped up next to the door. I take a damp cloth and wipe down my knife. After drying it, I pull my combat boots on and head for the woods.
Following the stream, I pull a couple of squirrels and three rabbits from my snare line. When I spot a quail through a large bush I bring it down and strap it to my belt. Finding a blackberry bush I wade through the stream and fill a small basket with the juicy berries. I am just deciding to go home when the wolf pack leaps toward me from the direction of home.
Not having anywhere else to turn and being weighed down my haul I throw down my blackberries and run the other direction. Drawing my Revolver from its holster I leap onto a boulder, turn to fire three shots, and leap down. With a jolt of horror, I realize that I am heading straight into the Canyon of the Lost Souls, a dead-end canyon with no place to hide and no way out other than the entrance. I am just racing around a corner when the lead wolf jumps onto my back and digs his fangs into my shoulder, forcing me to the ground.
In the process of flipping me onto my back, the wolf manages to knock both of my guns twenty yards down the canyon. I would fight back with my knife but I can’t move my left shoulder because the wolf is mauling it and my other arm is pinned down under the wolf’s hind leg. Just as I begin to lose consciousness the lead wolf yelps in pain. Briefly, I wonder what horrible beast I will have to fight now, thinking that some other hungry animal has seen me as a living all you can eat buffet.
I scoot backward, towards the .270 and the Revolver and grab them. In the process of standing up, my brain registers the agonized howls and the angry growls coming from the pack. When I look up I see every single one of the wolves all in a pile mauling something I couldn’t see. Knowing that whatever was being murdered in front of me had saved my life, I shouldered the .270 and started to take out each of the wolves.
At about the fifth wolf I can see that my rescuer was a large dog. Since it was covered in blood it took me a moment to identify the breed, but I realized that it was a German Shepherd, male, starving, and badly injured. I have only two more wolves to kill when I have to switch to the Revolver because I have run out of ammunition for the .270. Doing the math in my head, I realize that I have only two rounds left. The first shot misses, but the second blows out the brains of the wolf.
Only having my knife left, I leap onto the lead wolf’s back. Plunging my blade into the wolf’s neck, I twist the knife. With a howl, the huge wolf collapses and breathes his last breath. I crawl over to the German Shepherd and cut strips off of my shirt and sweater to use as bandages. Using a long strip of my makeshift bandage, I wrap a wound on the back of the dog’s neck. I look at his legs and bandage them the best I can. Then I use the largest strip off my sweater and attempt to bandage a gaping wound in the poor dog’s stomach. I use the last bandage on my shoulder.
Finding some sturdy branches I use what is left of my sweater and create a sort of cot for him to lay on while I drag him home. I grab the turkey, a rabbit, a squirrel, and the quail, leaving the rest next at the entrance of the canyon for something else to eat because I can’t carry anything else. I then begin the long journey home. When I get to the stream I find a shallow, slow moving, rocky spot and cross. I just manage to get back to the house when I call for Evan and collapse.
My eyes snap open. Morning sunlight streams in through my window and onto the quilt folded at the foot of my bed. I sit up and screech in pain when I try to put pressure on my shoulder. Evan races in with a concerned look on his face. A moment later Sarah limps into my room behind him. I manage to smile when I see Sarah awake and just say “You’re awake.” before I black out again.
When my eyes open I see that it is dark outside. I remember how bad it hurt last time I tried to sit up so I gently ease myself up. Although I am barely putting any pressure on my left shoulder the pain still brings me to tears. I slowly slide my legs to the ground and stagger down the hall into the living room, where I see Evan asleep on the couch and the German Shepherd on a pile of blankets and pillows in front of the fireplace. I smile when I see the fresh white bandages wrapped around the dog’s wounds. I make my way into the kitchen to get a glass of water. After drinking every last drop I go back to bed.
I wake up with a yawn. I slip out of bed and head to the kitchen to get some breakfast because I am starving. I pull some bread out of the cabinet and I walk outside to an old apple tree to get an apple to have with my breakfast. I go back inside and smear some cheese onto my bread. As I sit down Sarah and Evan walk in and say good morning. I nod and go into the living room to re-bandage my shoulder. When I see the dog awake I go back into the kitchen to get a rabbit leg and a dish of water for him. He immediately devours the rabbit and drinks all of his water. By then Sarah and Evan have finished their breakfast and sit on the couch next to me.
“What are we going to do with him?” Sarah asks me as we watch the German Shepherd. “I was thinking we’d fix him up and maybe keep him,” I say. “That sounds good, Rachael,” Sarah responds. “If you are going to keep him he is going to need a name,” Evan adds. I smile and say, “I was thinking that we could name him Jake.”
Chapter Four
I cough as dust from the attic above my house enters my lungs. Sarah says, “Hey Rachael, come look at what I found!” I walk around a large grandfather clock to Sarah. When I see what she is holding, I feel a pang of sadness. “One of Mom’s rings,” I say. Sarah just nods. The ring looks to be white gold, with a large group of rubies and emeralds in the center. Suddenly Evan shouts from the other end of the attic, “Come here! I found something I think you should see!” Sarah quickly slips Mom’s ring into a little box from her pocket and we start running to him.
When we get to Evan we see a yellowed envelope in his hands. He hands it to me and I read the neat cursive aloud, “To Rachael and Sarah. Do not open until you are fourteen.” Sarah looks at me and Evan pulls out his pocket knife and slits open the top. My fingers are slightly trembling as I reach in to pull out a piece of paper. Unfolding it, I let out a small gasp. Shocked, I say “It’s from Mom!”
The letter reads,
‘To My Darling Daughters,
Always remember that your parents love you. Since I do not have much time, I will get right down to the point. About two years before you were born, I had a son. However, it was the bitterest winter that either your father or I remember and we were starving. Another mouth to feed would have made all three of us starve to death. Our good friend James, the blacksmith from Soldier’s Rest, offered to take him and we accepted. He named him Evan. The creatures of the Nightmoore Woods are attacking more often. Just yesterday your father was attacked by wolves on a solo hunting mission. This is going to come as a shock to you, but he is alive. For about a year now we have been preparing to live in a fortress on a large mountain called Warrior’s End. He is there now with James. In a month or so I will be joining him. I want you to come to us. Find your brother and convince him to come with you. Rachael, Sarah, please come home.
Your Mother,
Jack’
When I finish reading the letter I feel a tear slide down my cheek. Beside me, Sarah is sobbing. When I look up at Evan and he looks pale and is trembling. I feel angry and happy. There is an old chair sitting a couple of feet away and I stumble into it. When I reach up to brush a hair out of my eyes I realize that my face is soaked in tears.
Sarah suddenly races downstairs and I follow her. I find Sarah outside, by the stream. “You know, I used to have dreams where they were still alive. But when I woke up, I thought that there was no chance that they were. Now that I know that Mom and Dad are alive and that they just abandoned us, I don’t know what to feel.” She says when she sees me. “If they are still alive then you should feel happy. If you feel mad then don’t worry because I’m so mad right now I want to scream.” I say after a short pause.
Suddenly a rider on a large blue roan bolts through the woods. The screen door slams open and Evan runs out. The mystery rider jumps off his horse and heads straight to him. By this time Sarah and I are already up and halfway there. Since the horse is coated in sweat I am incredibly worried. “-fire, Evan!” is all I hear the stranger say by the time I get there. “What, fire? Where?” I say, remembering the attack on Soldiers Rest not quite a month ago. As I say this Evan already has his horse, Moor, out and is throwing a saddle on her back. “His house.” The mystery man says grimly. Then, without a word, he jumps on the roan and turns her to Evan and Moor. I take off to the barn where Sarah has Shadow and Snow saddled up.
Leaping onto Shadow, I take off after Evan, who a moment ago had raced into the woods. I hear the pounding of hooves behind me and know that Sarah and the mystery horseman had done the same. Fear for Evan is the only feeling I have right now. After a couple of moments, I spot him ahead of me. I leap over a log and lose him again.
A few minutes later I break out of the trees and see a blazing inferno about ten yards in front of me. Then I see Evan staggering to his house with his fists clenched. I jump off of Shadow as Sarah and the other rider appears behind me. Sarah and I start walking to Evan. I feel like I am about to cry and a quick glance at Sarah proves she feels the same. By the time we get to him Evan is on his knees. When I put my hand on his shoulder he quietly says, “I grew up in this house. Everything I own is being destroyed.”
As Evan stands up the strange man walks over to us. He says, “What are you going to do now, Evan?” “Well, Jeremiah, I will have to stay at the inn until I rebuild.” Evan sadly replies. “Evan, you can stay with us! If you want, that is.” Sarah exclaims. With a very slight smile, Evan says, “If it is alright with Rachael, I would absolutely love to.” He looks at me and I reply, “Of course you can Evan!” “Thank you so much! And since I don’t have anything to pack, then let's be off!” he says.
An hour and a half later, Evan, Sarah, Jake, and I stand in his new room, which used to be the guest room. As I look around the room I feel a wave of pride. “Thank you so much for letting me live here and helping me get settled,” Evan says. “No problem! It will be nice!” Sarah replies with a smile. “Now, if you don’t mind, I am going to go see how Moor is getting along,” Evan says as he turns to walk out the room. “Of course! I am going to go check some traps and maybe do some hunting.” I exclaim.
I walk into my room and grab my shotgun and about fifty rounds of bird shot and thirty slugs. After strapping my knife to my belt I walk into the living room. I call Jake and walk outside to the stream. I pause and after a moment turn and head downstream to a large pond filled with fish and duck surrounded by strawberry bushes.
As I climb over a large log I see a large pond. After a moment I see some ducks among a large cluster of rocks where a waterfall is cascading down. I tell Jake to sit, a new trick I taught him, and raise my shotgun to my shoulder. Seeing a cluster of about five ducks, I fire and bring three of them down. Firing the shotgun scared them off, but I see several large fish swimming in the pond. I walk over to a large hollow log and reach in, finding a fishing pole I stashed there to keep it safe. I call Jake over and climb onto a large rock overlooking the water.
An hour later I have caught a catfish and two Koi. “We better be getting home now, buddy,” I say to the dog. I stand up to go put my pole back when I see the large cave behind the waterfall. Signaling for the dog to come to me, I slowly creep towards the cave.
Upon entering the cave, I see that it has been lived in. I am about to leave when I see the shirt hanging on the back of a rickety old chair. When I see the tear in the right sleeve I let out a small gasp, because I am the one who caused it.
It was a warm summer morning and I had been playing with a little wood horse. I wanted to make it fly so I put it in my slingshot and launched it. Unfortunately, the horse landed in the middle of a large rose bush. Running to Dad, I asked him to get it for me. When I showed him where it was he reached in and grabbed the horse. As he drew it out, his sleeve caught on a thorn, causing a large L shaped rip.
Grabbing the shirt, I race home. When I see Sarah grooming Snow and Evan grooming Moor, I shout, “Sarah! Evan! Look what I found!” As I run up, Sarah says “That is Dad’s old shirt! Where did you find it?” “In a cave behind the waterfall at the pond downstream! Follow me!”
We run in silence until I hear water. “We’re almost there!” I shout. When we break through the trees, Evan and I hear a scream as Sarah plunges through the muddy earth. I shriek to Evan, “A sinkhole! Grab the longest, thickest vine you can find!” He nods and races to a pile of boulders with vines draped around them. “Are you alright, Sarah? Answer me, please!” I say down to Sarah. Suddenly I hear a short shriek of terror. “Sarah!” Evan and I shout at the same time. “I’m OK, but there’s a body down here! And he looks like he’s been down here for a long time!” I sigh in relief when I hear her voice, but frown when the rest of what she said sinks in.
Automatically, I go into investigation mode. “Are there any identifying features on him?” I ask. “I would tell you if I could see him clearly. It's really dark down here.” Sarah replies. I take a matchbook out of one of my many pockets on my cloak and toss it down. Suddenly a small fire blossoms and I see that she used three matches together. “Whoa! This guy was ugly! From what’s left of his skull, it looks like his nose was broken in about six places.” “Can you find any belongings?” I ask as Evan runs back to throw a massive vine with a knot in the end down the hole. Suddenly she gasps. “A Blade of Broken Victory! I know who he was! Get me up there!”
Chapter Five
We sit around the table as Sarah begins her story. “When I was little Dad would tell me stories about a great king. One day while hunting in the woods, the king and his guard were attacked by bandits. The entire guard was destroyed, while the king managed to escape. Close to death, he found a cave and crawled in, thinking it was a suitable place for a king to die. Upon entering, however, he saw that it was filled from top to bottom with mountains of gold and jewels. As he leaned against one of the piles, a large black dagger fell from the top and entered his chest, spearing his heart. In his last moments, he yanked the blade from his heart.
For a thousand years, the king lay in a deathlike sleep, while the dagger grew and became a sword. Until one wintry night, when the king’s eyes snapped open and his fingers grasped the hilt of the sword by his side. In that moment, the words Blade of Forgotten Kings was etched into the black iron.
Over the next forty years, the Shadow King amassed his great Army of the Night and began his terrifying reign of darkness over the Northlands, for when he stabbed someone, they lost their souls and became his slaves. He began to push south, creating an eternal winter in his wake. He had thousands of dark swords made, each with the words Blade of Broken Victory etched into the blade. However, he was fought by a small army of farmers and blacksmiths and was never able to push very far.
There was a fort where the best soldiers came from and the Shadow King wanted it because it was the only way he could win. If he lost this battle, he would be destroyed. When the Army of the Night arrived at the fort, he found the entire army there waiting for him. And that is how the Battle for Soldiers Rest began.
The Army of the Night was defeated, yet before the Shadow King was slain he exclaimed ‘When a Blade of Broken Victory is found I will rise again! One day I will rule with a greater fist! One day the Prophecy of the Shadow King will be fulfilled!’”
I stare dumbstruck at Sarah and the at the blade laying in the middle of our kitchen table. When her story sinks in fully I stand and as I jog to my room I say, “We have to go to Warrior’s End right now. Pack only the bare essentials. We travel light.” I feel nothing as I turn into my room and grab my saddlebags off of my dresser and start shoving ammunition and knives into one and a spare change of clothes in the other one. Hesitating a moment, I run to the basement and grab a flask filled with water and some smoked mutton in a burlap bag.
When I get back into the kitchen I find Evan and Sarah with their saddlebags in their hands staring at the Blade of Broken Victory. I stare too, confused until Sarah asks me if I want to carry it or should she. Too nervous to answer, I just grab it and strap it to my belt and walk out the door to get Shadow.
I grab my saddle when I walk into the barn and walk straight over to Shadow’s stall. When I see him he looks kind of nervous and when I walk forward he rears and paws the air. “Whoa, boy! What's the matter buddy, is it the Blade?” I undo my belt and slide off the Blade of Broken Victory and ease it closer to him, low and near the side of his head so that he can see it better. When that doesn’t work I grab a handful of oats from a bucket next to me and feed them to him. While he eats, I slowly rub the Blade across his belly and face. “That’s better. Good boy.” I say in a soothing tone.
Five minutes later, we take off into the woods towards Warriors End using a map that was in the envelope with the letter. “I wonder what Warrior’s End will be like,” Sarah says over the thundering hooves. I frown as I think of what we might, and might not, find. “You never know,” Evan replies to her. “Keep an eye out for a place to camp. It’s getting dark.” I say with a glance at the sky. “How about there?” Sarah says as she slows her horse and points to a stone overhang on a cliff. “It looks fine to me from here, let's get a closer look,” I say.
“Perfect!” I exclaim as I finish spreading out my bedroll. A quick glance to each side of me shows that Evan and Sarah have finished with each of theirs. “We should probably get some rest now. I’ll keep first watch.” I say as I toss a couple of logs onto the fire. Sarah and Evan mumble their agreement and walk to their bedrolls as I lean against a large boulder with my gun next to me.
At about midnight I stand up to wake Sarah up for the second watch. I am shaking her shoulder when suddenly Evan shouts and is yanked off of the edge of the cliff. Sarah and I race to the edge and look down about twenty feet to where Evan lies unconscious on a tiny lip. Seeing a small rocky path, we race down to him.
“It looks bad, Rachael. What do we do?” Sarah asks. “We have to get him back up there to tr-” I break off as Evan is jerked from in front of us. “Grab him!” I shout to Sarah as I lunge for his arm. He slips off the edge and I think that we are going to lose him when my fingers close around his wrist.
Chapter Six
"Sarah!" I screech as I begin to slide from Evan's weight. I feel her grab my ankle and I very slowly begin to work my way back up to solid ground. With a start, I spot a purple vine about the width of Evan's arm. Realizing what needs to happen, I shout up to Sarah, "Let go! Let go and go get my gun! Shoot the vine, shoot the vine!" I brace myself and feel a rush of fear when she lets go and I slide forward about six inches.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sarah quickly climb up the cliff, snatch my gun, and fire three quick shots at the vine. Suddenly, a loud screeching pierces the air. I almost let go to cover my ears but I somehow manage to hold on. Sarah quickly fires five more rounds, but the screeching continues. Out of nowhere, a crossbow bolt dripping a bright green liquid -- which I recognize as dragon's blood -- whizzes through the air and flies straight through the vine. I gag as a foul-smelling violet liquid sprays from the injury and the vine quickly unwraps and falls down to the bottom of the cliff.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sarah quickly climb up the cliff, snatch my gun, and fire three quick shots at the vine. Suddenly, a loud screeching pierces the air. I almost let go to cover my ears but I somehow manage to hold on. Sarah quickly fires five more rounds, but the screeching continues. Out of nowhere, a crossbow bolt dripping a bright green liquid -- which I recognize as dragon's blood -- whizzes through the air and flies straight through the vine. I gag as a foul-smelling violet liquid sprays from the injury and the vine quickly unwraps and falls down to the bottom of the cliff.
Sarah races back down the cliff face to where Evan and I are dangling precariously and slowly hauls us back up. I help her as best I can but the liquid on my face is beginning to burn. Once we are up I immediately wipe my face on my shirt sleeve, being careful to get it clean and watch in amazement as the fabric begins to slowly recede. I take my canteen and pour half the water onto my sleeve and the purple liquid disappears in a puff of black fire. "What the heck was that?" Sarah asks. Gasping for air, I say, "I have no idea, but I'm more interested in who, or what fired that crossbow bolt with the dragon's blood!"
I pour the rest of the contents of my canteen onto Evan's face, not having time for him to wake on his own. He sits up, gasping, and I let him sit for a minute. "You OK?" I ask. He groans and lays back down on the hard black stone and says with a groan, "I-I think so." I help him up and we begin to slowly make our way back up to the camp. I look back every once in a while, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever shot that crossbow and to make sure that the purple vine is not coming back for more. We make it back up to the camp and I look back once more just in time to see a figure moving in the darkness.
As soon as I register what I've just seen I realize that the mysterious figure is raising their crossbow to fire another shot. "Take cover!" I shout to warn Sarah and Evan. I leap behind a boulder and Sarah tosses me my gun from where she is hidden in a small cave. "You alright Evan?" Sarah asks. "Evan?" I look around and see him lying face-down on the ground about thirty feet to my right. "Evan! He's over there!" I point and Sarah gasps when she sees what I do not. "He's been hit!" When I hear her words I raise my .270 to my shoulder and aim at the shadows where our enemy lies in wait. I shriek when suddenly a bolt comes out of nowhere and hits my gun, throwing it over my head and I groan when it strikes the black stone wall behind me.
I am just drawing my Revolver from its holster when a couple dozen ropes drop from higher up on the cliff face and armed, armored men and women slide down. A tall woman -- most likely the leader -- touches her left arm and suddenly our guns and knives are yanked out of our hands and slide to a stop at her feet. With a glance at Evan and a flick of her hand, a white-cloaked figure runs forward and rubs some salve on his wounds. Although I know that we have absolutely no chance unarmed against this many armed warriors, I leap to my feet. When Sarah realizes what I'm doing, she walks out of her cave to stand next to me. I nod and I am about to race forward to fight when I suddenly realize that the only group of strong warriors out here would be from Warrior's End.
"Who are you and where are you from?" I ask the leader hesitantly. After a moment, she pulls back her hood and says, "You have no right to be questioning us. However, your quick thinking and courage in fighting that Periculum Vine was admirable. We are a patrol from Warrior's End." Thrilled, I exclaim "You're from Warrior's End? My name is Rachael Black, this is my sister Sarah Black, and our brother, Evan Reagan!" I watch, confused, as a look of shock spreads over the woman's face and the rest of the patrol begins to talk among themselves in hushed voices. "Collect your things and follow us." The leader says.
I run over and roll up my bedroll. After I secure it in my saddlebags, I saddle up Shadow and see Sarah do the same with her's and Evan's stuff. I quickly untie Jake and two warriors stride forward to lay Evan on his horse's back. I lead Shadow over to the rest of the patrol and follow them up to the top of the cliff and away toward Warrior's End.
Half an hour later, we arrive at a pair of massive stone gates. Sarah and I watch in amazement as they slide open as if by magic. Once we are on the other side, however, I see that they were pulled open by a pair of an unfamiliar breed of dragon. "Welcome to Warrior's End." The tall woman says.
Chapter Seven
Sarah and I exchange an amazed glance and we hear a low whistle from Evan. Either the tall woman didn’t notice us slow, or she didn’t care because she continued with her long strides. Catching up with her, I hesitate before asking “Excuse me, ma’am? I didn’t catch your name.” Without looking at me, she said, “Lieutenant Amelia Masen of Warrior’s End. I suggest you stay silent until after I speak with the General Black. You may ask questions later.” By the time that she has finished speaking, we are at the entrance of a large stone building and I fall back to Sarah and Evan in silence.
Upon first glance, the dimly lit interior seems sparsely furnished and has a certain utilitarian air about it, but after a moment you begin to see the genius behind the decorations. Some such ways as how the dark oak floors contrast perfectly with the pine chests, how the torches highlight the cherry table in the perfect places to ensure that the faded maps would be adequately lit while the bare wood would be cloaked in shadow, and how the white spots accented the jet black furs covering the throne at the end of the table perfectly. Of course, all of that was lost on me the moment my eyes wandered to the face of the woman sitting in the chair. Her red-brown hair held hints of gray, and her emerald eyes stood out against her pale skin. It was a familiar face, although I had not seen it in years. It was the face of our mother.
Shock grips me, and it is all that I can do to stop from running over to the face that, until recently, I thought was dead. I suddenly remember Sarah and Evan when I hear a small noise from behind me. Looking back, Sarah’s face looks half frozen between a smile and a sob, and I know that my face looks similar. My attention is drawn back to our mother when I hear a voice that was all but forgotten. “My babies! You have come back to me!” My head whips back around on its own accord and I am knocked backward as Mom rushes forward in an embrace. I am suddenly a little girl again and I am sobbing, overwhelmed. Tears stream down my face as she stares each of us in the face in turn, the look on her face of pure joy.
“Mom!” I look around, confused when I realize which face I do not see. “Where is Dad?” Her face falls at the mention of her husband and her eyes tear up. “Sit. About a year and a half after I got here, there was an.. accident. The lookout towers had been wood back then, and a massive lightning storm passed through. The east tower was struck, and two particularly large Doomcats came through. Frightened by the storm, they attacked your father. He managed to last until some soldiers could come fight them off. Five men were killed on the spot, two were dragged away and never found, and seven died of their wounds later. Your father was one of the seven.”
With a sob, all I can see is my father’s blonde hair and his blue-gray eyes. I remember all the times he would teach me how to shoot, how he would gently guide my hands when he taught me how to make tiny animal carvings, and when he went into the woods alone, promising that he would see me again. How he would never fulfill that promise. I thought I knew what never seeing him again would feel like, but I was wrong. I was way wrong. This hurts so much more than when he faked his death. Maybe it is just because I got my hopes up about seeing him again, or maybe some part of me knew that he wasn’t dead when he left. Maybe it is simply the fact that I understand more about what death means. Whatever it is, it hurts. It hurts deep inside the very core of my being. Another choked sob escapes my lips and the tears begin to flow.
Several hours later, we are in another room. This time, it is empty except for the large stone table covered with maps in the center of the room. “The Shadow King’s army is here,” Mom says, tapping the far north end of one map. “We are here, roughly two hundred miles from the front line. Although we are that far away, scouts often make it close. My soldiers stop them in their tracks once they make it to that canyon. It’s getting late now, and you must be tired after your journey. Amelia, could you please show them their rooms?” I am about to protest, but my words are cut off with a yawn and I can just nod in agreement. Sarah and Evan walk behind me as I follow Amelia out and across the fortress to several buildings clustered closely together near some waving wheat and corn fields. “This one is yours, Evan. That one over there is yours, Sarah. Rachael, yours is just over here.” Amelia walks over to one a little higher onto a hill. After Evan and Sarah have disappeared inside, I turn to her. “Lieutenant Masen?” She smiles. “Please, just Amelia.” “Amelia. I was wondering, maybe could you teach me how to fight? I know a little, I just want to know some more just in case.” I hold my breath, knowing that what she could teach me would be invaluable. “Of course! Meet me at noon tomorrow on the southern end of the training grounds. Dress appropriately.” With a smile, I agree and tell her goodnight. After I change, I climb into the small bed in the corner and let the rest of the tears over my father fall.
The next morning, I wake up stiff and exhausted to one sharp horn blast. I walk over to the huge oak dresser in the corner and pull on deep blue-gray pants and a coarsely woven light gray shirt. Walking over to the door, I grab my boots and pull them on. I stand and step outside to see Sarah and Evan near the training area, talking. I wave to them and start heading toward them when two more sharp horn blasts echo around the fortress. I jog over to them and ask what they meant, confused. “What was that for?” “Lieutenant Masen explained it to us. One sharp blast means to wake up or go to bed, two means time to eat, three means a drill, and two long blasts means that we’re under attack. One means it’s time for a meeting. The mess hall is over there.” I follow them to the long building and walk inside to see a massive table laden with all types of meats and loaves of bread. I take a couple of sweet cakes and sit in one of three chairs next to Mom and I eat, watching everyone intently.
After everyone is finished eating, Mom stands and dismisses everyone. I wander outside and walk around slowly and aimlessly, not sure what to do until noon. Finding my way to a quiet forested area at the north end of the fortress, I sit under a large weeping willow near a small creek and end up dozing off. I open my eyes to see my father facing off against two Doomcats, alone. I run through the rain and I am about to reach him when the larger one pounces. I run harder, but the mud begins to suck me down. Clawing at the mud, trying to drag myself back out of the quicksand to him, I scream when the large one lands a blow to Dad’s head, rendering him unconscious. A small patrol of fighters run up and most of them are killed, but they manage to fight the Doomcats away. I just manage to see them load Dad onto a stretcher and carry him away when the mud swallows me, and my eyes snap open to reality. Shaking, I stand and notice that it is almost noon, and I slowly begin to head back to the main area of the fortress for my training session with Amelia. Somehow, I manage to hold the tears back.
Chapter Eight
I round a corner to see Amelia tapping her foot impatiently, a curved sword strapped to her waist. “You're three minutes late. I’m not going to train you if you are going to not show up on time.” She must have seen the look on my face, because her voice gentles. “You started having the nightmares, didn’t you? Don’t worry, it’s normal.” Amelia’s voice grows distant and her good eye gets a faraway look. “My mother was sick when I was born. She died bringing me into this world. When I was ten, my father died in a freak accident. Last year, both of my brothers died on the front lines. Each time, I had nightmares for a long time afterward. We’d better start now.” She hands me a sword, and I automatically step into a fighting stance. Briefly, I wonder if she is actually going to hit me with it before I notice that the sword has been extremely dulled. She lunges and my sword lashes out in a shining silver arc, just barely managing to smack her blade out of the way. We continue like this for the next hour, and I end up bruised and sore. At the very end, I manage to parry her blow and I land my first strike for the entire day on her left arm. She praises me and takes her sword into a little shack where it will be safe from the elements, and I hang mine up next to hers on the rack.
Several minutes later, I am walking into my house when Sarah runs up behind me. “How was training? Did you have fun?“ I groan when I knock my shin against a chest and reply, “It was cool. I’m really sore, though. I think I’m just going to sit down now.” I ease into a chair and put my feet up, falling asleep within minutes. The same nightmare as earlier begins and I am trapped as if within a trance to watch my father die. I wake up with a scream twenty minutes later and it takes me quite a long time after that to calm myself down enough to go outside.
I find my way to a small cluster of buildings and I see Sarah standing behind a house. Just as I am about to call out, I see that she is talking to a young black haired man. Silently, I step around the corner and I move to the trees, silently stalking forward until I am close enough to hear what they are saying, while still invisible. “And then he lurches around the corner, covered in sticks and mud and he lets loose this terrifying growl and all the kids run, screaming! It was so funny!” The look on the stranger's face as he says this is like he is trying hard to impress Sarah, and her response tells me that it is working. “That is so funny! Tell me more.” The way she laughed when she says that makes me grind my teeth together. She has never laughed like that before! Back home, before Mom and Dad left, we would go to the school and we would hear the rich girls who always looked down their noses at us laugh exactly like that. We vowed to never laugh like that, no matter what happened. What was happening to my sister?
When the horn announcing dinnertime blasts, Sarah tells him that she had better go meet me, which makes me even more annoyed, and before she turns to leave he kisses her cheek! Every muscle in my body is instantly tense and I just barely stop myself from leaping out of my concealment to confront them. Sarah walks toward the mess hall and I run through the trees to find Evan, wanting to tell him everything before I asked her about it. I find him near the door to the mess hall, and before he can say anything, I blurt out what happened. “I went to go find Sarah and I saw her talking to someone about your age, and he was telling her a story but then she laughed like a bratty rich girl and then he kissed her! She’s on her way and I don’t know if I should talk to her in the mess hall or after we eat or before we go in or if I should talk to her at all!” He looks at me with a slightly confused expression before his face looks angry and his protective older brother instincts kick in. “We act like everything is normal while we eat, and then once we’re done lead her to that big tree over there.” He jerks his head in the direction of a large oak. “We confront her then.” I just nod because Sarah is walking toward us and I smile and wave. When she reaches us we walk inside and sit down in our same places as earlier.
An hour later, we walk outside and I casually lead her over to the oak. Evan walks over once we reach it and I casually begin talking. “So, Sarah, I was looking for you before dinner. Where were you?” Her face becomes guarded and she lies. “Oh, I’ve just been exploring. I was near the north tower.” Evan grows tense and my voice grows harder. “Oh, really? Why, then, did I see you next to the west tower? What is his name, Sarah? Is he really worth you breaking a vow to impress?” Her face betrays her shock, and she feigns to the right before darting to the left. Evan grabs her arm and she squirms. “Let me go!” I walk toward her, my face stony. “Not until you agree to tell us all about your boyfriend.” I sneer on the word. With a sigh, she slumps and tells us what we want to know. “His name is Fox Reagan. I met him yesterday after we met Mom.” My face loses its stony quality and I almost smile. Almost. “Why didn’t you tell us about him? We want to meet him, you know.” I look at Evan, who has been silent through this entire ordeal and quickly add to my statement. “After Evan cools down a bit.” She smiles briefly at this and I smile back, forgiving her. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow to work something out. In the meantime, it’s going to be lights out in an hour, I’m going to go home. Goodnight Rachael, Evan.” I nod goodnight and I head back home. Once I get inside, I change and clean my guns, just finishing as the lights out horn blasts. I crawl under the blankets on my bed and I’m out within minutes.
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- Exchange Of Hearts -
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Chapter One Notes (I know you said to take it easy on the first chapters, but this is writing 101, I needs to tells you, my precious!):
I feel like you may want to go over the descriptions which are equal to the dialogue to avoid repetition. And it's suggested to not use many tags and to only use 'said'. Say, when you said 'exclaimed' it should have been 'said', since 'exclaimed' is already noted within the dialogue itself, likewise, you never say, 'she asked' at the end of a question, instead you say, 'she said', because it is itself in form of a question with the (?), so, in essence, you would be saying she asked twice, and the same is true in your case since (!) denotes exclaimed, by definition. Thus, you are only repeating yourself, rendering it redundant.
Note that you don't need the extra action 'on the opposite side of my gun' because it is self-evident to the reader. Remember the rule from William Strunk 'omit needless words' and such philosophy 'less is more' by Hemingway, and remember the general rule: the reader is smarter than you think.
Final comment: show don't tell. So, when you said the following, 'The Doomcat hasn’t left yet. I uneasily reported.' You are telling them, not showing them (and you broke the rule of tags, again, it ought to be simple and that means simply 'I said'), it is suggested that you instead show that it was spoken uneasily rather than saying that it was. Have an action which shows unease. Show him/you precariously balanced on a chair, rocking, with fingers fiddling his bottom lip. Or some such action. Which brings me onto another point, I digress, I know, add some poetry. Such as, when you said 'it began to snow', you are still telling and not showing, it is lifeless this way. And snow is such a poetic thing, too.
Also, Stephen King is not happy with you, it is rarely a good thing to have adverbs in dialogue tags. In fact, he said, and I quote:
'I believe the road to hell is paved with adverbs, and I will shout it from the rooftops. To put it another way, they're like dandelions. If you have one on your lawn, it looks pretty and unique. If you fail to root it out, however, you find five the next day... fifty the day after that... and then, my brothers and sisters, your lawn is totally, completely, and profligately covered with dandelions. By then you see them for the weeds they really are, but by then it's—GASP!!—too late.' - Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft
Hope this helps some. Thanks. :)
- Wandmaker
I'd get started on writing something just as soon as I gather the idea. I just thought of one, so I'll scamper now.