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I had fallen asleep…despite telling him that I would definitely be wide awake to see the city that dwelled within the forest. As the trees started to grow thicker and finding a visible empty patch of purely dark green grass was becoming far and few between, I felt a spell being cast upon me; the forest seemed to be so enchanting in that. Eventually I had rested the side of my head on the neck of the chestnut mare, thinking that I was merely weary from the many days of traveling we had made; no form of extended rest was taken between the settings and risings of the sun. The endless trees extending further than my eyes could see lulled me to sleep. My energy had been renewed once we had entered upon the less beaten trail and the early chirping of the birds seemed to echo my excitement. That energy was now gone. The light of the sun was filtering through the dense leaves above, but its energy did not reach me. Knowing that I should have struggled, I knew I would end up kicking myself when we arrived in town, having missed such a spectacular sight to be sure…again. Looking out at the moss covered trees and dense foliage, I felt as if the forest itself was taunting me with the same scene, wanting me to fall asleep and miss the grand view that was just up ahead; sadly, I did not bother to fight it. The last sensation I felt was my small, worn and exhausted form slipping out of the saddle…before being caught by a strong, yet, I knew, gentle hand.
“…heh, heh, come on, Becca, I can’t allow you another ‘five more minutes’…” His voice was cheery as always, the playful tone that bounced along with it waited patiently. I was half listening, stirring slightly and opening one eye. There he was: Darien. He claimed to be older than he appeared; even as a child I could be able to tell that he appeared to be a young man that might not even have seen twenty winters. That said, he had a young, boyish air about him; he certainly loved to be playful enough. Blue as sapphire, his eyes gazed at me with an adoring expression as if I was his own child. His face was clean shaven, adding more to just how young he appeared and to my height at the time, he, like the all adults, towered over me.
After seeing his jovial smile, something else caught my attention, causing me to immediately stand up: the sky was dark and the stars were already out. I fell back against the tree I had been propped up against and waves of disappointment washed over me. I felt completely dejected …I had missed first entering the city that dwelled in the forest like all the other fantastic and awe inspiring places Darien had taken me to. Balling my fists upon the ground, I crumbled up the green leaves beneath me. A few tears welled up in my eyes as Darien crouched down to see just what was wrong with me.
“What’s the matter now? You didn’t miss much aside from dense foliage and trees,” he said, acting like it wasn’t that big of a deal I miss yet another spectacular view. “If you’ve seen one birch or oak, you’ve seen them all, you know…of course there’s this one tree about…hmm, I don’t even know how far it is now…”
I looked up at him with a pained expression as tears streamed down my cheeks. “I missed the entering Forest City and you think that’s nothing important?!” I tried to stifle my crying, but I simply could not help myself; I had been met with far too many disappointments in sightseeing throughout the journey. “Every stop that we passed ever since you took me from Somrin, I missed by sleeping through it…it’s just not fair! What?!”
He had tilted his head to the side and just stared at me like I didn’t know what I talking about and it only added to my frustration. I turned away from him and pouted, feeling like I would never speak to him again. In order to calm me, he used a smoothing voice that I, unfortunately, knew all too well from the countless tantrums I threw. “Now what are you going on about?” I simply couldn’t believe him as he continued to give me that same look; I felt like lashing out at him. “We haven’t even entered the city yet…”
Stopping in mid-sentence when his words reached my ears, my anger died as a blank, confused look replaced it. Tilting my head in equal confusion, all that left my lips was a quiet, “Wha?” He made an opened arm gesture, spreading his arms to the sides to get me to look at my surroundings. Looking around I realized we were still in the forest…and felt rather stupid, feeling that seeing the stars overhead should have given the hint that we were not in an inn room like all the other times I had woken up and missed the sights. We were in a small clearing, surrounded by thick, ancient trees. The tree above me loomed so high it would dwarfed everything if I saw it from the height of the canopy. In my hands, the crushed up leaves were now tattered remnants of their former selves. A smile grew wide on Darien’s lips as he ruffled up my light brown hair. “I’m glad you’re no longer mad at me,” he said, taking my five-year-old tantrum as nothing more as a simple misunderstanding by a child that was so used to being disappointed. “Come, we’re not far from it.” He chuckled well naturedly, simply excited and happy to show me my first wonderful arriving view of the journey.
Still in a state of disbelief, a certain joy filled me as I watched him cross the small clearing to untie the reins of the horse. “Come on, Becca, even innkeepers sleep you know.” His voice was gentle as always, making a bit of a humorous comment to place a smile on my face and get me moving. I stood and checked my person, looking for the small, leather purse I always kept with me; it was propped up against the tree as well. Taking it in hand I followed after Darien, who was already leading the horse off on foot.
I took a moment to open the simple, leather purse to check if they were still in there. Ever since nearly losing it to a bully in one of towns we stopped in, I had become motherly protective over them. I gave a sigh of relief when I found the comb and brush set Darien had given me was all still in their proper place within their small leather home. The handles and such weren’t jewel encrusted or made out of gold or silver; they were simple wood. To any well-to-do person or even a commoner, it was a simple brush set…but to me it was the surest sign of the silent pact that existed between Darien and me. Out of all the riches I would be taught to procure, the comb and brush set was worth millions of coins more in heart; I had yet to find a brush head as soft as the one within the set. No amount of sapphire or rubies would be enough to make me want to leave it out of my sight.
When I had caught up to Darien, I found that, once again, we were traveling off the beaten path. I asked him about it when I began to notice on the third leg of our non-stop journey to see the continent and his respond was, “I trust the roads as much as I can pick them up and throw them…besides, not all the best views for sightseeing are on the established paths.” I also had to ask what ‘established’ meant. He tended to use long words as if he assumed I knew and understood them…the case being for the first year or two I didn’t understand a good quarter of the words that came out of his mouth. At the time I thought he was being mean and didn’t want me to understand anything. But looking back, I saw that he didn’t want to belittle me in any way and used those big words because he honestly thought I was already intelligent.
“Ah, it has change a bit from the last time I was here…” Darien said, slightly awe struck as he parted a branch and some foliage. I could see many specks of light shining through the hedge, my excitement mounting. “Becca, allow me to introduce you to the city of Fire-Leaf.” He parted the hedge large enough for me walk through unhindered. The lights intensified as my eyes adjusted…what came into my vision defined the very reason I felt Darien and I were traveling. The small clearing we were just in was at the edge of, what I discovered, to be a hidden valley. Within the great depression below was the city. Wooden walls that appeared more like filled in scaffolds surrounded the sprawling town. Across the entire cityscape lamps mounted upon sturdy wood poles adorned the winding gravel streets. They emitted a warm, inviting light as if giving me my first welcome from afar. All buildings were constructed out of, I would soon learn, well polished wood. A darker material was used for the wall. What immediately caught my eye though of the city was cutting straight through it: a small river. Following the water from where it exited the city from the east, I saw that it seemed to divide the town in half, bridges extending over near the most populated areas. The cannel it flowed through turned north at the center of town and led right back out of the city to the source; it was thanks to the bright light of the moon above that I could see the distant waterfall. “I’ll take you to those falls tomorrow, it really is a grand sight to see the entire cityscape from there at dusk,” although I didn’t turn to face him, I knew Darien was taking delight in seeing my awed face. But what really made the scene of first laying eyes upon Fire-Leaf the most magical of seeing my fifth winter though was what was fluttering all around us and over the town. Almost like snow, tiny orange-red petals fluttered down over the valley. I knew then why the town was called “Fire-Leaf”; turning as they descended, each petal reminded me of crackling sparks of the many campfires Darien used to roast meat during our travels. The gentle wind that carried the Fire Petals (what I called them and was surprised to learn that it was in fact their actual name) brushed against my face. Turing my gaze west I found the grove of trees that bore the petals on an elevated portion of the valley edge. With all the petals still upon the branches the trees appeared to be on fire as they swayed slightly. I found it surprising they were still full of “sparks” despite the snowfall of petals already in the air.
Reaching out my hands, a few petals drifted easily into them. At first I was almost reluctant, believing they would actually burn me if I touched them. However, that was hardly the case. If anything they were slightly chilled from the wind. Bending my head down to sniff them I found the petals to have a lovely fragrance that reminded me of a mix between lilacs and hyacinths. Smiling, I opened up the leather purse that was at my side and tuck them in; the three petals would be my souvenir from Fire-Leaf.
Patting my head gently and slightly ruffling the locks that were already a bit of a mess, Darien picked me up with a strength that any adult could have possessed, but didn’t prevent me from thinking he was some sort of titan; he was actually quite thin looking and not at all muscle bound. He placed me in the saddle of the horse before leading it off down into the valley. Darien spoke of the last time he was in Fire-Leaf, musing like an old war veteran would have when retelling of the time he held the wall of the castle against invading hordes…for the umpteenth time. That was the only quality that I found odd with Darien in my childhood spent with him: he always acted as if he were decades older than he really was…it was sometimes annoying to be honest. I might have been young, but I knew how to distinguish who was older between a man in his prime and a gray haired, venerable appearing person. In that regard it felt like he didn’t think I knew the difference and it upset me to feel like he was questioning my intelligence.
Of course at the time when we were descending into the valley, I was hardly paying the finest shred of attention to him. I was too enchanted by the twirling and fluttering of the Fire Petals to give Darien any mind. When I chose to glance away from the Petals to look back at him, he had stopped rambling on with his act of “I’m in fact 84 years old”. My guess was that he saw I was more enthralled with the valley than intent on listening to him and simply gave up spinning his ridiculous yarns. I continue to observe the Petals as they found so many places to stick onto my clothing and to the horse. Occasionally, I would shake my head from side to side to get the small gathering of petals out of my hair; I would find that after running a hand through the silk-like locks my hand was left with a few more petals clinging to it…I’d have to comb my hair once we arrived at the inn.
I only looked up again when the horse came to a steady stop; we had arrived at the closest gate into the city. On either side of the simple entry way were a pair of guards. Each was dressed in boiled leather armor with protective studs and donned on their heads were simple metal helms. A sharp, well pointed spear was in each of their hands, ready to strike to down any malcontents trying to enter their fair city. “Good evening, sir. Traveling a bit late, aren’t ya?” A guard from the right side of the gate moved forward to greet Darien politely enough. The guard then added, before Darien could answer, “What’s the purpose for your visit into Fire-Leaf?”
In reply, Darien smiled and said in a cheery voice, “I’ve come to show my young daughter here…” He motioned his hand up to me for the guards. “…the supposed grandeur of ‘city that dwells within the Northern Forest’. I remembered my grandfather telling me that Fire-Leaf was supposed to be quite lovely this time of year…his words did not do this awe-inspiring sight any justice.” He laughed slightly in a jovial tone as he took an opportunity to look back at the surrounding valley and the Fire Petals. “You could say we are merely sightseeing and wish to enjoy the comfort for your renowned hot springs.”
“Ah, more tourists…,” The guard said, almost mumbling. From the way he said it I felt like he had seen quite enough of sightseers. Noticing the rolling of eyes and slight chuckles from the other guards, it only confirmed what I thought. “Try to last the night sir, we’ve had to throw out a bunch of your lot for getting too drunk and causing a disturbance within the past week…Do keep your father in check, dearie.” He directed the last part to me and just laughed as he waved us through.
Darien gave a small nod and a smiled in thanks before guiding the horse through the gateway. Once out of earshot of the guards on the other side of the wall, he said in a cheery voice, “Nice folk, don’t you think?” I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but I thought and replied, “It seemed they were making fun of us…” He merely shrugged, apparently not at all bothered by it.
A gentle quiet was about the city, the only constant noise was the crackling of the gravel path beneath our feet. Looking around I found that the majority of the buildings were fashioned out of well polished wood; they seemed to possess the kind of gleam one would expect of a well finished table in a nobleman’s study. The streets weren’t organized either into a grid like the previous towns we visited. As Darien led the horse on, I noticed we were winding around buildings and trees that dotted the cityscape. Really, the only defining difference between streets, side streets and alleyways was the width of the gravel that made up the path. Along the edge of the canel, elegant guardrails carved out of the same polish wood were fashioned into wooden vines thriving with leaves. Into addition of having these same guardrails, the bridges had simple archways on either side with one taller one in the middle. Lush green vines wrapped around each pillar like snakes constricting their prey. Darien pointed out to me that the vines were a special amphibious plant that grew only in the river running through Fire-Leaf…I had to asked what “amphibious” meant. “It means that the plant can exist on land and underwater, like frogs, you know?” “So they’re called Frog-Vines?” He laughed wholeheartedly despite my seriousness; I tilted my head at him in confusion.
Swaying in the light breeze carrying in the Fire Petals over the town, the sign of the inn squeaked on ungreased hinges “The Nymph’s Grove,” I read aloud, earning an astounded look from Darien. “What?” I asked, slightly annoyed. He just shook his head with that same cheerful smile. “No matter how many times you read, it always impresses me…although you need my help when reading through tomes, I find it interesting you know how to read at all despite being a street urchin I happen to come across…anyway! This is my favorite inn out of the four within the city.” After tying the reins of the chestnut mare in the stable on the side of the building, we made our way back to the front door.
The Nymph’s Grove was constructed out of two different colors of wood. A darker wood, with its well polished gleam reminiscent of mahogany, rose up from the ground and coated the bottom portion of the building up to my full height; a lighter wood made up the rest of the building. As if woven, a border of vines and roses was fashioned on the seam between the two shades of wood. The same dark wood was used for the eight pillars and the balcony they supported on the second floor; several benches and tables were under here and Darien explained it was a popular spot for many to take shelter from rain or the sun while enjoying a nice, tall glass of ale. I could see a lone light coming from the small stained glass window centered eye-height, for Darien, causing the elegantly designed rose centerpiece to emit a dull crimson.
At the chime of bells affixed to the other side of the door, a cheery welcome by a seductive voice greeted us, “Welcome to The Nymph’s Grove, fair travelers…Darien~!” Behind the counter of the check-in desk was an unearthly beautiful young lady. Her almond shaped, ruby-red eyes flitted joyfully upon seeing Darien. She rushed over, hastily jumping over the counter to greet us-well, Darien if anything. Flowing like a shadow or perhaps a shifting black void, her thigh length, black hair trailed behind her. She had a high bridged nose and a sharp chin, giving her an intelligent air that no tavern wench would ever possess. Shaped almost like an hourglass, her form was clad in an emerald-green dress that had a leafy texture to it; the chest of it gave a nice view of her ample cleavage. When she ran over to Darien, bringing him into a tight embrace, the seductive quality of her voice vanished and she started to talk in a natural, down to earth tone. “You haven’t stopped by in…I don’t know how long! I even started to have fleeting thoughts that you had forgotten about little-old-me and-”Sounding down right giddy to see Darien again, a curious quality was added to her speech when she first spotted me clinging to Darien’s leg out of shyness. “Who’s this?” She let out a small gasp as she directed her gaze back up. “Don’t tell me that you…?”
Laughing slightly, Darien waved the lady’s fears away. “Oh no, she’s mine, but not in the traditional sense. I picked her up in Somrin about two months back.” He stepped back and placed his hands softly on my shoulders and brought me forward. “I named her Rebecca, but I call her ‘Becca’ so often I wonder why I just didn’t name her that in the first place. Becca, this is my long time friend Desha…hey, that sorta rhymes…”
“Leave the poetry to me, sweetie,” Desha said, clearly finding Darien’s slanted rhyme not quite to her taste. She lowered herself to my eye level and gave me a soft smile, warm and inviting as the glow of the glass rose on the inn’s front door. “Nice to meet you, Becca, you can call me Deshy like all my other friends, ‘kay?” I received a wink before she rose to continue speaking to Darien. Although she appeared like a noblewoman with her beauty and intellectual air, she was really kind, I thought…or it could have just been that I was with Darien…
Beckoning us to follow her into the room to our right, Desha undid the emerald-green ribbon tied securely to her left wrist to put her hair up into a bun; she left a strand of her bangs lingering on each side of her face. The room we entered was the tavern…it was completely empty save for a few torches burning around the barkeeper’s counter. “How about a nice glass of cold cider, Becca?” I nodded my reply and gave a small smile. I couldn’t help but be somewhat scared of her. Something just didn’t sit well with me; her beauty was beyond natural, I thought, comparing her to other girls Darien pointed out during our travels and hoped I’d grow up to best in looks. The fact that she was his friend did little to ease my fear of her.
“Can you bring the bottle into the spring for us?” Darien asked. “We haven’t exactly bathed in…a week?” He laughed and I wondered if Desha noticed that we smelled solely of horse and sweat; it was a miracle my hair wasn’t a wild, tangled mess. Leaning close to her ear, Darien blocked his lips from my view with his hand and said something completely inaudible to me. Desha gave a thoughtful nod and a grin.
“The herbal spring is still fresh, I’m surprised no one’s asked for it today,” she replied, taking an opaque green bottle from a shelf packed with clear bottles of liquor behind her. From beneath the counter she pulled out a small bucket already filled with ice. With a bit of effort she was able to place the bottle of, what I assumed cider, into the bucket. Onto a simple wood platter she set two wine glasses and then proceeded to balance the whole on the tips of her fingers. “Please go ahead and wash yourselves in the shower area…I trust you still know how to use a hot spring properly, Darien?” She giggled as she left us in the tavern balancing the platter masterfully and stepping with the grace of a noble lady.
“Why do we have to take a shower before taking a bath?” I was confused; it made absolutely no sense to get clean only for the purpose of getting clean. Darien smiled at my question and ruffled up my hair. “Hot springs are not normal baths, Becca.” He took my hand and led me out of the tavern. On our way to the showers he explained they were more for relaxation and medical purposes. Since the water is never changed in a natural spring, people have to cleanse themselves first to wash away all the grime before entering to keep the water clean. The showers were divided into two rooms, one for each gender. Darien had to coax me into the female showers by myself. “Deshy will be close by to assist you, so don’t worry that little head of yours.”
In the end I didn’t have to do anything: Desha insisted on washing me herself. Before entering the actual bathing area, there was a room where I was able to store my belonging and travel worn clothes. The shower area was relatively simple. Smooth cobblestones slick with water made up the floor while the walls were a dense, dark wood. Along either side of the room were several water pumps, all lacking the tiniest bit of rush in spite of living in such a constantly damp home. Just inside, right by the door, were shelves filled with a number of items: fresh wool towels, soaps and buckets for the water. There was a natural depression build into the room so that the excess water would flow right out. I tried to pump the water myself into one of the buckets, but I could barely get the arm of the pump to move. Desha merely smiled at me and asked, in a kind tone, but I still felt she was patronizing me, “Having trouble there?” Without really waiting for any sort of response from me, she started pumping the water into the bucket as easily as picking a flower off the side of the road…it made me feel smaller than I actually was. She would undress herself and wrap a towel around her body before attending to me further, grabbing a few scented soaps from the shelf. After asking which I preferred, she set the rose-scented down for herself and used the lilacs on me. “There’s a few on the shelf that was scented with the Fire Petals and I only can make them this time of year…normally I charge a lot for them, but I’ll give you a few as a gift.” Desha gave me a wink before dumping the contents of another bucket over my head to wash out the suds. I whined that she should have given me a warning first as I shut eyes tight after the first of the water washed over them; she giggled and let out a small “Sorry”…before emptying another bucketful over me, leaving me spluttering water. The Fire Petals that once clung to my hair were carried away with each sudden flood of water poured without warning over my head. I observed them float along the small canals form by the cobblestone floor until they disappeared from my sight down the drain.
I was handed a towel after I was approved as “washed” and was about to wrap it solely around my waist when Desha stopped me. “That’s not how a lady wraps herself, sweetie.” She took the towel from me and draped it around my chest, the wool material so long that it went past my kneecaps. Undoing her bun, Desha whipped out her emerald ribbon. My hair was then did up in the same tight bun that she just had on herself. She then brought me over to a mirror in the room separating the showers and the hall. “What do you think?” She rested her chin on my right shoulder and looked at my face using the mirror. Curling into a small frown when she noticed my lips were down she asked, “Buns not to your liking?”
“I’ve never used ribbons before,” I replied, speaking simply. My eyes became slightly downcast when I felt, what I assume was, Desha’s disappointment. I continued. “I have always kept my hair down so…”
“So you’re not exactly comfortable with anything else, am I right?” She was smiling again and after seeing me give a slight nod. Suddenly she wrapped her around me and brought me back into a tight hug. I was caught completely off guard by her sudden show of affection. “Awww…you’re so cute~!” Her voice was just as giddy when Darien and I first walked through the entrance of the inn. Having her so close to me and hearing her so overjoyed made the wall of fear just seem to melt away. However, I do admit that there was still something suspicious about her; I simply could not put into words the way she made me feel…it wasn’t uncomfortable or anxious, it was just…alien. Feeling her warmth against me made me think of Darien and the protection of the cloak he wrapped around me when we first met; I guess in short I felt like I was being loved. Never before on the filthy streets of Somrin would anyone offer me a scrap of food or a small cup of water out of the pure goodness of their heart…and here I was being embraced by a perfect stranger.
Desha must’ve sense the tension within me melt away when she continued to mess with my hair however she pleased. She sat me down on a small wooden stool that happened to be handy in the room and set herself to work on finding what sort of hair style suited me best. I shook my head when she arranged them into pig tails and braids. While she continued to play with my light brown locks, I had the urge more than once to tell her that I had to go meet with Darien. But to be truthful, I was having just as much fun with her as well. “Alright, one last style before I let you back to Darien, he should be finishing up by now…” At one point I went and grabbed my comb and brush set from the cubbyhole I stored them in and asked her to use them. Holding her ribbon in between her lips, Desha brought all the strands on my head back and combed and brushed them to their full length. Grasping the bundle together gently but firmly in one hand, she started to tie the strip of green into a simple, slightly oversized, bow. I would see soon enough that she allowed the band to spill down artfully from either side when she said, “Alrighty…what do you think of this one?”
She had chosen to go with a ponytail…and I liked it. It was nice not having my bangs and the rest of my hair all wild and flowing this way and that; in this form I felt like I had control over it. My hair even back then reach midway down my back and I had a little fun swishing my head from side to side to see the tail and bowed ribbon move along with it. I brought the tip of the tail over my shoulder and allowed it to rest there. “Now, don’t you look like a little princess? The Queen herself would be envious, I swear.” From her tone, Desha was pleased to see me pleased. I wondered if this was what having a mother was supposed to feel like. Shaking my head, hoping that Desha would simply take it as me having more fun, I pushed the thought out of my head. It was nice to think of it, sure, but I did not want my mood to spoiled thinking of melancholy inducing thoughts.
“I’m going show Darien,” I replied gleefully. Although I heard her start to say something, I had already hopped to my feet and was out the door. Dashing down the hallway, my feet patted along excitedly yet softly as I made my way to where the springs were suppose to be. Passing a door just three over from the door marked “springs” I heard a loud and sharp shout of pain. I skidded to a stop and looked back, hearing muttering and quiet cursing; walking back I found the door was left slightly ajar. Peering through the crack, I found Darien, a towel wrapped around his waist, bent over and nursing the large toe on his left foot. I smiled and pushed the door open.
“Darien~!” I called in singsong. “Look what Deshy did for…me…” My eyes widen as they were immediately drawn to his back and all that escaped my lips from there was a small gasp. His arm were within the sleeves of a robe and it appeared as if I walked in right when he was about to don it…I wish I had waited just a few seconds before entering. Stretching from his left shoulder, cascading down and disappearing beneath the towel around his waist was a, although healed, deep cutting scar. Around the area where his heart would be located, an all but gone puncture mark was clearly visible; I might have been able to claim it was a large mole or wart had I been farther away. Finally, taking up his right shoulder and covering the right side of his upper back, was a gruesome burn. Against the rest of his fair skin, the burn scar appeared like a charred out, ruined area within a forest of green trees. The skin appeared to be stretched taut and rough and bumpy. Seeing the large slash wound was enough to make my knees buckle…from there I was completely overwhelmed.
His face was filled with surprise when he saw me burst in suddenly before slowly descending into a dark, sad look. Turning away, he brought the wool robe around his arms over his back, covering the three scars; despite no longer seeing them, they all left such an impression on me that I felt I could have traced each one inch for inch over the robe. A tense silence filled the room as he looked away from me the entire time, his arms at his sides. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he turned to face me again, that same comforting, cheerful look on his face. “Hey Becca, done already? Guess I’m just slow, heh heh. My, my, did Desha put your hair up for you? She must’ve taken a real liking to you if she was willing to give you one of her ribbons. You know she really prizes-”
“Those looked like they hurt…” My simple statement was enough to bring that same awkward silence back. Clearly Darien thought he could play it off that I simply saw nothing and that it was something I wasn’t really concerned about. Unfortunately for him, my worry and curiosity far outweighed my willingness to dismiss. I spoke quietly, but my voice seemed to bounce off the walls more than enough to make it sound I was using a normal voice. “…w-what happened?”
That same, alien dark look resurfaced on Darien’s face as he turned away from me and off to the side. We had been traveling together for the past two months and never before then had I seen his back or any of him undressed. He was taking great care not to let me see. Scratching the back of his head, he tried to speak but was left groping for words each time he opened his mouth; I had never seen him like this. As the time passed he started to fidget by tapping his foot and wiping his brow. Occasionally he would look back at my concerned filled face and slightly shake his head. “Let’s go to the springs, shall we?” He finally blurted it out before slowly making way over to the door, avoiding the question. I froze him in place with another.
“Why won’t you tell me?” I tilted my head to the side, horribly confused and felt tears start to sting and fog my eyes as my concern melted into crying. Seeing my tears spill over, Darien knelt down on one knee. He gently wiped away my tears away with his thumbs while making a shushing sound in a desperate attempt to calm me. Bringing me into a hug was the last he did, his trump card when all else failed to pacify me. Slowly I began to feel the tears cease.
When I was finally able to stifle my weeping, Darien placed his hands on my shoulders and spoke in a calming voice I had heard only once before. “Becca, I truly appreciate your concern; it fills me with a certain joy to know you care about me as much as I care about you…” He paused and hugged me again. “But just like you don’t want to talk about Somrin and your hardships, I too have things in my past that I don’t want to talk about either. I respect your wishes, so please…can you respect mine?” I nodded my gaze downcast. “Atta girl.” He finally extended his pinky to me and I was able to look him in the eye again. His sapphire blue eyes were soft, but firmly looking ahead at me. I extended my pinky to his and the two fingers laced around the other. We then shook, another pact made.
- by Cruel_Angel_Of_Ice |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 08/12/2008 |
- Skip
- Title: Diaries of the Handymen
- Artist: Cruel_Angel_Of_Ice
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Description:
In this context, a Handyman is a slang term in the realm of the story for mercenaries specializing in all matters involving light fingered touches and all skills of subterfuge.
This the first chapter of a novel I plan to write for my Senior Project. The story follows the life experiences of a girl named "Rebecca" by her foster father Darien. Genre is, of course, fantasy.
- Date: 08/12/2008
- Tags: fantasy diaries thieves assassins
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Comments (2 Comments)
- remalakca10 - 02/28/2009
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awesome...
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- missa-chan001 - 08/14/2008
- Wow Loy, it was amazing! I love it! I really like Becca, shes a great perosn to put in the story. I really wish you would write another one. biggrin Haha btw, I GET FRIST COMMENT!!
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