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Kirbs there's no need to be so modest. ^_^


Those weren't all the arguments though. There was also:

D) Background information is useful for relaying information about the setting to the reader.

E) Flow in dialog depends upon the relavent information each character holds.

F) The atributes that make up a character should be weighed upon that character's setting, age, past, and last, but not least, their usefulness in the story.

G) Lengthy segments that contribute little to your actual story should be compressed, or eliminated.

H) Paraphrasing is useful when compressing such statements.



And I think thats about all of em... I think

At any rate, My critiques have not proven beneficial thus far and will here by be withdrawing any services. If you think you'd like an opinion on the book in its finished state*, Then I will be happy to oblige. Until that time though, I will not take it upon myself to bother you with anything that I believe the book could do with.


But I'll still be here to read, ask questions, and comment on what I like. So no worries. ^_^

* the first book, that is.

whee


Write! Write! Write! surprised

Time flies when you spend your whole Saturday inside until 6:41 p.m. finishing the eleventh chapter for crazed fans. ><

Here it is! Oh, wait:

NUMBER OF

LECTURES: 1
LONG DESCRIPTIONS: 2
BLOODY SCENES: 1 OR 2
LONG PARAPHRASED GUSHY SOLILOQUYS: A LOT
DRAMA: CONSTANTLY
DEAD PEOPLE: 0

Okay, one last thing: Pilori is walking or something and she's being gushy and at this point I forgot how to write, so soooorrrryyyyy. crying

HERE WE GO!

The library was cold and drafty, even though Roden and Nheyii had lit every fire in the grate; Kayle saw immediately that all they had managed to do was clear a large bit of floor by moving a table and some chairs, but had not managed to do much of anything else. He could also see that they were under the impression most people would be: that the library was not a very good emergency infirmary and temporary mass shelter. How very wrong they were.

There were many people in here already, about a hundred; most of them were merely too young, old, or for some other reason could not help everyone still outside—mothers of small children, fathers in the mothers’ places, people already in fragile condition from disease or previous injuries…there was one woman, strong and healthy, who had clearly expressed her want to go and help, but no one would let her once they found out that she was pregnant. The rest of the people were injured, though not too badly, as then they would never have been able to escape; the worst was a human who had nearly lost his arm, narrowly missed by a branch, and was now being inspected by Elder Nheyii as Roden tried to find medicine and bandages. Other injuries ranged from twisted ankles to gaping cuts to burns of all sizes and degrees.

Kayle scoffed; they were so unorganized, completely unfamiliar with his beloved library. Well, he would soon fix that. It was about time they learned that his humble, cozy home was actually one of the strongest fortresses Ametris had ever had.

Marli’s breaths were fast and sharp, and she was leaning heavily against him. He needed to put her somewhere safe; he chose a comfortable armchair in an alcove of the south wing, helping her carefully into it. She immediately rested her head against the side, looking drained and completely exhausted.

“Stay right here, okay?” Kayle told her quietly—after all, it was a library. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” she agreed weakly, without opening her eyes. He patted her lightly on the shoulder before he left, heading determinedly for the other side of the library.

The north wing had until a few minutes ago been a fairly small room, but tall, and the walls had been long ago carved into shelves all the way up to the high ceiling. There was a ladder that slid on wheels, connected to the wall by jutting pieces that fit in carefully placed grooves between shelves, that could be pushed all the way around the circular room without too much difficulty. The space in the middle was clear but for a large rug, woven with dyed plant fibers, a heavy wooden table, and a half-score of chairs surrounding it. The table was pushed carelessly aside, so that it snagged the rug and scratched the floor, and the chairs were piled haphazardly in a corner, some knocked over, one about to fall apart. Kayle frowned.

“Excuse me, Elder?” he said to Roden, with a forced, polite smile.

“Oh, it’s the librarian.” Roden sounded relieved. “Good, we really need your help, where can I find medicine and water? And we’ll need some blankets too…”

Kayle’s forced smile turned into a smirk, and he shook his head. “C’mon, Elder, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten…didn’t they teach you in school?”

“I’m sorry?” Roden raised an eyebrow. Kayle grinned.

“Well, they taught me…. Back in the war days, up until three thousand years ago, this place wasn’t a library. The Great Tree was around back then, it’s about six thousand years old—a few elves recovering from an attack on their forest had the idea of carving this place out and making it into a fortress. There was enough room inside for every elf in the forest, about three thousand back then, and plenty of room for weapons, training, and so on. There was also a walkway outside, winding all the way around, to make it easier for those who were keeping sentry. There were only two entrances: one too high to reach except by birds and squirrels, the other carved so brilliantly that no enemy could find it. And if they did, there was a cellar they could all hide in, with a thick, metal-lined door and four different locks on it. It was so efficiently made, so perfect for its purpose, that they used all their power to make sure the tree never died, and it didn’t. Some say this is even the Great Root itself, instead of—”

“Wait a minute,” Roden interrupted; a very intelligent man, he had kept his patience throughout this long explanation, but this appeared to be too much for him. “What do you mean, this is the Great Root? The Great Root is a…is a root!” [KV2]

“Not necessarily. It’s just the one organism that every root grows from. It makes sense that it would be deep underground, but it doesn’t have to be—big trees like this sometimes make entire forests out of just their roots, they grow up from underneath the surface and grow like any other tree, and this one is large enough to cover all of Ametris with plants. Did you know, this huge root once split a city in half outside the forest and they proved it to belong to our tree?”

Roden cleared his throat noisily before Kayle could babble any longer. “Yes, well, that aside, a fortress would have to have supplies, correct? Or were they cleaned out?”

“Yes, they were during the war when the city was abandoned, but then my great-great-great-great-great…or something…grandparents restocked it and made it into a library to preserve their history and I’m the…oh, let’s see…134th in the family to take care of the place…so I imagine you’ll need my help organizing everything around here, won’t you?”

Kayle folded his arms behind his head, still grinning, and waited for Roden to rescue himself from his corner. He had to make sure they didn’t destroy his library, and for that he needed to be at least mostly in charge.

“Yes,” Roden sighed finally. “Yes, we certainly will.”

“Good.” Kayle unpinned a map from the wall, of which there was one in every wing, and led him to the table, where he spread it out and showed him how to make the place back into a fortress.

“Now, see, this is the first floor, where we are right now is the north wing. What you need to do with this room is put the table flat against the wall and use it for people that are really hurt, so you can operate on them more easily. You need to line all the chairs up against the wall so people who are hurt don’t have to sit on the floor, and lay the ones that need rest on the rug, it’s very comfortable. Don’t worry about getting blood on it, it comes right off. If the ladder gets in your way then move it, and please pull the curtains over the bookshelves, I really don’t want anything happening to them.

“Now, these two little rooms, northwest and southwest wings, are research rooms. There’re a lot of dangerous chemicals in there, so keep everyone out. These two are separated by a stairwell; don’t use it. It leads to the cellar, where I keep old scrolls that’ll turn to dust if you touch them, so that’s especially important. In fact, I’ll go lock the doors as soon as I can. Over here’s the south wing, it’s a good place for all the tired people who’re just fine, it’s also the fiction section so they can read if they’re dry and very careful.

“Up those two stairways is the second floor, northwest and southwest again, and the northwest is strictly off limits—it’s kind of crowded, I keep statues and pottery and stuff in there, and I don’t usually let people in. The southwest is a good place to put the kids—it has paintings all over the walls so tell them all to be careful, but there’s plenty of room. Don’t let anyone out the door though—it leads outside and I’m pretty sure the walkway doesn’t exist anymore. And there’s a staircase to the third floor in both wings, up there is a massive dormitory, split into wings, northwest, northeast, southwest, southeast. Take the closest one and put the injured ones in it, the ones that need to rest, and use another one for everybody that’s staying here tonight. There’s also a big storeroom, that’s where we keep all the medicine and blankets and such. Okay, well, that’s the library. Any questions?”

Roden blinked, struggling to soak in all this information. “R-right…” he said weakly. “I’ll get right on it…s-so where is there food and water? The well is buried under rubble and the water’s jet black, we can’t use it…”

“In the storeroom. There’s a lot of water, it’s very easy to find, and enough food to last us all a year. Send about a score or people up there to help bring it down, I’ll show them the way. Oh, and tell them to keep quiet; it is a library, after all.”

Roden chuckled appreciatively, already turning to leave, but Kayle stopped him.

“I’m serious.”

Roden blinked nervously, confronted by Kayle’s stern don’t-touch-that face, and nodded.

“Now, if you would find me some helpers, please?”
Roden did so, calling assorted women and men to follow Kayle up to the storeroom, which was circular and dark, lit only by torches, though absolutely massive and lined with supplies all around. He had only been there twice: when he was seven and his dad was showing him around, and just a few days ago to place most of the books from outside in here until he fixed up their shelves, and thank the gods he had.

He found himself knowing what to do and how, and even more surprisingly, he found everyone listening to him without a word—he helped each person load up as much as they could carry—some carrying blankets with little individual water flasks hung on their arms and necks, others with medicine bottles wrapped in towels and carried carefully with bandage rolls on their wrists and additional towels thrown over their shoulders. They looked ridiculous, but this way it only took two trips to bring down everything they needed; after that he sent the same people up to prepare the northwest dormitory, (telling them that everything they needed was in the closet), went around and locked a few doors, and then found himself free for a moment to repay his promise to Marli.

“Here,” he told her, uncorking a flask of water for her. “Drink this, really slow, okay?”

She threw him a grateful smile, looking a little less exhausted from her nap, and drained the flask with ease. Luckily he had another one.

“Now, what did you do this time? Something stupid?”

“Yes,” she said meekly, avoiding his eyes.

“What?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Marli, don’t mess with me, tell me so I can get someone to fix you up…”

“I’m fine, I just need food…and another nap…a really long one…where’s Kamilé?”

This was a thought; where was she? “I dunno,” he said thoughtfully, turning to go. “Better check on her…”

But he never moved, because then something happened that froze him to the spot, and after that, all hell broke loose.



The minute Pilori walked inside, shivering with sobs and the rush of cool air, Elder Carn took Kamilé from her and set her gently on the floor in the north wing. By then, everything had been set up as Kayle had directed, and many other people were also lying on the rug, though Kayle was careful to place Kamilé away from them.

“I want to be able to find her,” was his explanation for this. “Pilori, I need you to take care of her while I—”

“Elder Carn!” Nheyii interrupted, rushing over and looking completely relieved by his presence. “Thank the gods you’re here, I really need your help…”

“I’m coming,” he told her, and, satisfied, she went back to her patients. “I’m the best healer we have,” he explained to Pilori, “and they need me right now…there are people worse off than Kamilé, and they need to come first, Pilori…do you understand?”

He added this rather sternly, as she was giving him a horrified, incredulous look.

“You’re just going to leave her like this?” She was doing her best not to shout, but it wasn’t working so well. Several people stared at them. “I don’t believe you, Carn! Just look at her!”

“She is a citizen of Ametris, just like everyone else,” he said firmly. “And right now, no one citizen is more important than another. She will have to wait.”

And then he left, leaving Pilori gaping at him, quivering with anger, fighting the urge to run after him and slap him hard. Instead, she flung herself onto the rug next to Kamilé and started to cry out of pure fury, though quietly so Kamilé could sleep. Pilori doubted she was really sleeping, and was sure when she saw her eyes open slightly, but all the same, she needed rest. Pilori looked around for a blanket to wrap her in—that one was soaked, and it was freezing in here, no wonder her baby was shivering so hard, but when she saw none she sighed and decided to just make do with what she had. She carefully picked up Kamilé’s hair, heavy with water, and wrung the water out of it, doing the same with the edge of the blanket that went over her head and covering her up once again. Now nothing could be seen of Kamilé but her mouth, part of her neck, and her right hand, which refused to stay inside the blanket. Afraid to hurt her, Pilori decided not to touch her at all, just leave her alone while more fires were lit to banish the cold.

Around the time that the first load of medicine, water, food, and blankets arrived from upstairs, everyone present received a surprise, the kind that made them all turn around on the spot and smile despite all that had happened: a quiet yet confident voice rang throughout the room, saying just a simple “Hello,” and everyone turned to see Elder Srai standing in the doorway, two kids and a limping man in tow.

The room erupted, and all those who could rushed over at once, some to help the limping man, who was badly burned and bleeding from the head, to the healers, others to sweep up and hug the two children tightly, with many tears and relieved sobs involved, and still others to shake Srai’s hand, ask her endless questions, and tell her what was going on, just as everyone had to all the Elders earlier. It took a sharp call with her hoarse yet still firm tones, an echoing shout of “Quiet, please!”, to calm everyone down.

“Thank you,” she said, with a tired smile. “But I have a lot of work to do, I’m sure you understand…yes, of course…thank you very much,” she added at someone who presented her with a flask of water. She walked over to the other Elders, and everyone noticed that she was limping, but she refrained from answering their questions by sipping silently at her water, which was gone by the time she’d reached the Elders.

“Where are Medilii and Arkai?” she inquired. “And Sariynn?”
“Sariynn is missing,” Carn said grimly. “Arkai has about twoscore helping him retrieve the dead bodies around the square, and Medilii has quite a few more helping her to search the forest. Those two will be back by dawn, they said.”

“Good,” Srai said approvingly. “Though I pray they find Sariynn, we need her so much right now…”

Sariynn, as known by every elf in Kocha, was very young for an Elder, even younger than Medilii, but had one of the wisest and most deliberate personalities anyone had ever experienced. Her sheer logic, she said modestly, came from a trace of dwarf blood in her family, but they all knew it wasn’t; if anyone could get them through this aside from Elder Srai, it was her.

“What about here?” Srai asked them, wincing and leaning on a chair for support.

“Kayle is helping out,” Roden explained. “Apparently this place used to be a fortress—”

“Of course,” Srai said, nodding.

“—and it’s filled with water and food and medicine, enough for everyone…The injured are over here until we can fix them up, then we move them up to the dormitories, and the kids are upstairs in the southwest wing; everyone else is helping or resting somewhere. We haven’t got many that are seriously injured, though there’re bound to be some more soon, and if Arkai or Medilii bring back anyone dead Kayle says we can put them on this floor’s northwest wing.”

“Where’s Italis and Lina? And Goba?”

“Italis and the merpeople are on the third floor,” Nheyii offered. “There’s a bath up there, a lot of them have changed back and need water. The dwarves are all gathered in the front room, and the humans are in the south wing.”

“Good, good…anything you need my help with?”

“Sayamasé, but first you need to sit down, what happened?”

“Oh, this?” She grimaced bravely. “Don’t worry about it, now—”

“Srai,” Carn said sternly, “What happened?”

“I broke my leg,” she said innocently, though that look didn’t quite work on her.

“Are you going to tell us how?” Carn’s voice remained stern.

“Yes, cousin,” she replied, winking.

“Actually it’s uncle, but go on.”

“Oh, it’s too distant to tell. Anyway, I wasn’t going to leave at all, but then I saw that it was just getting too bad and I had to get out of there, so I did. I was following all of you, but then I heard a child screaming somewhere and went to help. Pulled a branch off her leg, but broke mine, and what with that and all the smoke and fire I got a little lost…I found another child, and then it started raining, and that’s when I decided to come back to see if all of you were but it took me ages, I found a human on the way and made it back here without hurting myself even more, and for the most part I’m just fine. Now, what do you need me for?”

“Let me fix your leg first, Srai,” Carn insisted. “How on earth did you walk on it?”

“I have no idea. Necessity, I suppose.” She twitched her long robe out of the way while he took some tough bandage and a splint and bound up her leg, which was bruised and swollen. “Okay, well,” she added, the minute he finished, “if that’s all I’d best be going. No use sitting around, is there?”

They shook their heads, exchanging glances; every Elder knew that she was only acting cheerful not to worry them. It was she who had taught them that technique in the first place. But before she went to help, she turned back.

“Oh, by the way…” she said slowly, eyes coldly serious. “Did anyone find out who started the fire?”

She had come to the same conclusion all the leaders had: there was no possibility that the fire had been an accident.

Roden answered her. “Well, not exactly…no one’s really agreed on anything except…” He hesitated, apparently not wanting to present such a ludicrous statement, but Srai arched an eyebrow at him to prompt him to finish. “A lot of them said it was a little elf girl with dark hair…about seven years old.”

Srai held his gaze for a long time, apparently deciding if he was serious or not, and then turned away. “Well, that’s a new one,” she said dismissively, and was off.

The Elders all scattered, helping in any way they could, though all of them, like Srai had in the time of a blink, were scanning the room, looking for a tiny, dark-haired elf girl.

But they were not the ones who found her.



Pilori was so exhausted that she would have loved to collapse next to Kamilé and sleep, but she made herself stay awake. It was not as if Kamilé needed constant care or protection, nor as if she was waiting for anyone other than Elder Carn…it was just the principle of the thing. She could not fall asleep now; it would be the same thing as abandoning Kamilé to join the stampede for water and food, or to go rest in a nice, warm, comfy chair by the fire…

Pilori snapped herself out of her sleepy daze and checked on Kamilé; she had barely moved, save to turn her head to one side. Her tiny breaths rasped in her mouth; Kamilé was probably thirsty too, wasn’t she? And cold…she hadn’t stopped shivering, even though the warmth from the fires was now penetrating the entire room. There were still a few blankets left…and if Pilori stayed here, just sitting on the floor with nothing to do, she would fall asleep for sure. Better to keep moving, even if it meant keeping an eye on Kamilé from afar.

Pilori rose to her feet after kissing Kamilé on the forehead, making her way swiftly across the room. She was so tired that she could barely walk straight, and the room occasionally blurred in front of her…oh, how she longed to sleep, or maybe just—

And then she saw that someone was making a pot of coffee on the fire, which drove all thoughts of sleep from her mind, especially after she drank a few sips. She sipped at it, waiting for it to cool down as she took two flasks of water—pretty little things they were, tall and round, made of clay from who knew what era, and on convenient little strings so they could dangle from her wrist while her hands were full with a blanket and a few pieces of preserved fruit. But just when she had gotten all of this and was turning to go back, loud shouting and screaming made her head turn, in unison with everyone else’s, to the far end of the room, where, so it seemed, a little kid was being attacked.



The journey here had all been a blur to Kamilé—all she had acknowledged was the pain as someone touched her in places that were hurt, and then wrapped her so tightly that it pressed her injured limbs painfully together and started to take her away. She had tried to fight back, but wasn’t strong enough, and had started crying with frustration that she couldn’t get away, be free from the shadowy figures with the sickly sweet voices and run away to find Everan.

After a while, she couldn’t focus anymore, too hurt and tired and lonely to do anything but sleep and hope it went away. And that was exactly what she did, though she found that sleeping didn’t make anything better…it made nothing disappear except weariness. Her sleep was restless, and though she could not move her mind tossed around memories like little stinging drops of rain bouncing off a roof; fire, darkness, pain, water, lightning, thunder, the name Everan and the feeling of safety, happiness, and belonging that came with it.

But this feeling never lingered for long, and neither did her short-lived nap; she was woken by someone accidentally tripping over her head. A voice rumbled something above her as she tried to cry out in pain, let this person know exactly how much that hurt, but couldn’t; she shifted restlessly, turning her head to the other side to see if it would feel better.

Whoever had tripped over her, a man, was still there, standing frozen above her. Then she heard more voices, louder this time, and footsteps shook the ground and made her want to scream with pain again. She heard words, but had no idea what they meant…

“Hey, man…is this…?”

The first man’s voice was surprised and very disbelieving, but the second man showed no such doubts.

“Yeah, that’s her,” he snarled, and crashed a huge boot hard into her lungs.


There was an uproar as everyone who had heard the tiny, squeaky scream, the words indecipherable, turned and saw a little girl cowering and crying on the floor, gasping for breath, and the man who had kicked her standing over her and shouting at the top of his voice.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” he roared, pulling back his leg to kick her again. “I’LL KILL YOU, YOU LITTLE WEED!”

“Kamilé!” someone screamed, and everyone gasped as a blonde woman came out of nowhere and grabbed the man’s fist. “Get away from her!”

But the man just threw her off with such force that she collapsed onto the floor and kicked the girl again, screaming things so obscene that none of them would dare repeat it. Apparently not satisfied with her shrill, pleading scream, he reached down and grabbed her by the throat, holding her off the ground so that she kicked weakly and strangling her until her screams became inaudible.

“HEY!” his friend admonished him, holding him back and forcing him to drop the girl. “What is wrong with you?”

“Get—off—me!” the man shouted. “That’s her, she’s the one that started it!”

Everyone in the room fell still and silent. The only sound was the man’s panting and the girl’s whimpering and crying as everyone stared at her.

Finally, a familiar, smooth voice spoke up.

“Excuse me,” Elder Srai called to the man. “Can you please stop attacking the injured people, please?”

The man refused to be embarrassed by her comment. “Elder,” he said, bowing respectfully, though his eyes blazed, “this is the girl that started the fire.”

All eyes turned to the Head Elder, who was watching Kamilé with her eyes slightly narrowed. “Oh?” she inquired.

“Yes, I saw her—”

“So did I!” someone else called out unexpectedly.

“I saw her too!”

“Yeah, she and some freaky wo—”

“I saw her do it, she shot an arrow at the tree and it caught fire!”

“Yeah!”

The chorus of agreement was deafeningly overwhelming.

“ENOUGH!” Srai shouted hoarsely, and everyone shut up.
“I,” she said, radiating cold fury, “am about to lose my voice, and if all of you don’t calm down you will regret it. There are people trying to rest and heal and they cannot do it with all of you screaming, so would you please—”

“But—”

“—shut up,” Elder Srai finished dangerously.

No one moved as she glared at them, and then slowly limped over to the two men and the girl.

“Dark hair,” she said, to no one in particular, “pointed ears, looks to be very young. That was what I was told when I asked who started the fire. And you,” she said to the girl, who was curled up on the floor, her right arm shielding her head, “fit that description very well. Look at me, girl.”

The girl did not move, only shivered helplessly and cried.

“I said, look at me.”

The girl obeyed, though it did not seem as though she had understood, more like she was locating the sound of the cold voice for her own well-being.

“Stand up, please.”

“Elder,” the blonde woman said, having been helped up by the other man, “she can’t, she’s—”

“I can handle this on my own, sayama,” Srai interrupted coolly, still watching Kamilé with icy eyes.

“But Elder, she’s hurt—”

“What is your name?” Srai interrupted again.

“P-Pilori…” she stammered.

“Well, Pilori, it’s very important right now that nobody speaks. This is between me and her. Girl, stand up.”

“But—”

“Pilori, shut up.”

The woman, taken aback, fell into silence.

“I said stand up, girl,” Srai said to the girl again, who hadn’t moved. “Did you hear me?”

Suddenly it seemed that the man who had attacked the girl, who had been standing very still, fists clenched and shaking with suppressed anger, couldn’t take it anymore. With one swift movement he snatched the little girl’s arm, the one that was not blackened and burned, and pulled her roughly to her feet. “Elder Srai said to stand up, girl,” he growled, right before everyone who realized what had happened started shouting again.

“Stop!” Srai said sharply, as the girl screamed louder than ever, tears pouring down her face, and the woman called Pilori yelled, “Leave her alone!” But none of this was really the reason the man let go. He let go because a teenage girl whom everyone recognized as the schoolteacher had been making her quiet, slightly staggering way up to him and now tapped him on the back. He turned, and she gave him a tight smile and said, “Hi,” before she reached up and slapped him hard across the face.

The smacking sound echoed in the silently amazed room, along with the small fwump [ heart ] as the girl hit the floor again, and then, with the teacher’s hoarse shouting.

“How dare you, how dare you touch that girl, you are such an idiot, can’t you see she’s hurt? How could she have possibly started the fire, you imbecile, she’s eleven years old!”

“Professor,” Srai warned her softly, but she ignored it.

“Leave her alone, she didn’t do anything to any of you, she’s hurt and she needs to rest just like everyone else! What gives you the right to—”

“Professor!” Srai snapped, and the teacher turned her fury to her.

“You too, Srai, you need to leave her alone just as much as he does, she can’t stand up so for the gods’ sakes don’t try and make her—”

“Quiet, Professor,” Srai told her sternly. Reluctantly, the teacher fell silent, giving a soft, sad look to the girl, who had fallen to her knees, clutching her shoulder. No one was quite near enough to see the massive bruises on it; they had no way of knowing how hurt she was beyond the bandage and the burns.

“Tell me, girl—” The girl turned a frightened, nervous gaze to Srai, quivering in fear as if afraid to be grabbed again. “—did you start the fire?”

The girl, who seemed to be rapidly gaining focus of the situation, violently shook her head.

“You didn’t?”

She shook her head again, hunching her shoulders to protect herself from another attack.

“Liar,” the man growled, but he was ignored.

“Then who did?” Srai asked her softly.

The girl shook her head, and several people rolled their eyes. Srai’s own narrowed.

“She doesn’t understand you!” the teacher objected. “She’s—”

“—deaf,” Srai completed, frowning. A few people laughed, thinking that she was joking. “Doesn’t she have a twin brother who’s mute? Perhaps it’s common with twins?”

“That has nothing to do with it!” the teacher said angrily. “Srai, he’s dead, how can she have done it if it killed her brother?!”

The woman, Pilori, had started to cry very quietly. Srai shrugged.

“I don’t make it a point,” she said slowly, turning her eyes to the girl, “to understand the mind of an arsonist.”

“She’s just a kid! Leave her alone!”

“A kid who burned down my city.” Srai glared at the girl, who seemed to have finally understood what was happening and had risen shakily to her feet.

“No she didn’t! You don’t have any proof!”

“I have about two dozen eyewitnesses, that’s enough.”

“No it isn’t! Please, Srai, leave her alone and let her heal, and then you can ask her, not now!”

“Are you telling me how to do my job, Professor?” Srai turned her eyes to the teacher, the vibrant blue radiating cold authority. But the teacher stood her ground.

“Yes I am!”

“Well, Professor, if you would stop that I would be very—”

“You can’t tell me what to do, I’m not even from your stupid country! Look, this happened all the time back home, we didn’t worry about the culprit until after we’d gotten back on our feet, if you really think she did it then please just wait for her to be able to tell you!”

“Professor,” Srai said, in such a low voice that no one else could hear, “if you would like to keep your job I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” the teacher snarled back under her breath. “And if this is how you treat your citizens, then I’m glad I’m not one. You can fire me or banish me or whatever you like, but just know that I’m the only one who can raise your little city from the ground again.”

“Oh, can you?”

“I’ve helped to do it three times, Srai. I’m more than capable.”

Srai said nothing, only directed her attention back to the girl, who had backed up against the wall for support. “I will ask you one more time, girl,” she said clearly. “Who started the fire?”

The girl looked around for help, eyes wide, shaking so hard that she could not barely stand on her own.

“Answer me,” Srai said sharply, “or I will make you.”

“Srai, no!” Elder Carn said unexpectedly, but she ignored him. The girl kept looking around, not really focusing on anything, murmuring something under her breath that sounded like, “Everan…Everan, where…?”

“Everan?” Srai repeated. “Is that who started it?”

“No, you idiot—” the teacher burst out, but a fiery glare stopped her mid-sentence.

The girl let her head fall, eyes tightly shut, shoulders hunched. “Everan…” she whispered, “Everan…help….”

“Who is that?” Srai demanded.

“H-Help…Everan…”

“Tell me!”

“NO!” the woman, Pilori, screamed. “No, it wasn’t him, my baby, he’s dead, he’s dead…”

Whatever else she said after that was muffled by her hands as she hid her face in them and sobbed. Srai turned back to the girl.

“Well? Is he—HEY!”

For the woman’s words had appeared to have a strong effect on the girl, and she suddenly took off, running along the wall so swiftly despite her injuries that no one was able to catch her. She tripped halfway to the door but still no one captured her as she rounded the doorway.

“KAMILÉ!” the teacher and the other woman screamed, as a dozen people leapt up to pursue her, but she made it to the library’s entrance far ahead of them and disappeared into the night.





Eleven chapters and I finally get to use the words "surrogate," "technique", "imbecile," and "fwump." ><

But it is useless, as I have forgotten how to write. Someone PLEASE shoot me out of my misery. X.x

KV: You have permission to shoot me for that horrible cutoff ending. BUT WOULD THEY?!?!?! Omg...the sad effects of crack on the human mind.
KV1: GAAAAHHHH!!!!! SHOOT ME FASTER!!!
KV2: Roden's new title

GAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! crying

Butbutbut...Kirby forgot how to write!

WHY, Reese, just...WHY!??!?

Oh, because you like depressing, don't you?

Chapter Twelve is...almost done...but I want to put more in it. It's only five pages...I put a few little cutscenes in there, a MArli, a Kayle, a Pilori, and a Kamile...I have to end with the Kamile one, I just have to. It's how life works. But not that much can happen in...five minutes. :/

Help me?

*Dies of shock*

Seven Pages. eek

*Read while Mercedes drove*

I LOVE THAT ENDING. IT WAS PERFECT. BEAUTIFUL.

Oh, yeah. And the rest of it. Especially that subtle hinting throughout it. ninja

Oh, and I gotta say, I kinda did like the character of Pilori. Trying to do what she thinks is best but bungling it completely. She reminds me of Aunt Sylvie in the book "Housekeeping" by Marilynne Robinson.