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Hello everyone and welcome to the very first Weekly Challenge!

I know it's a day late but yeah yeah nobody's perfect! xp

This week, to commemorate Jp's influence in my brilliant idea havingness, I would like everyone who wrote in the "Writing Challenges" thread to post a follow up to their previous post here! Instead of writing about your character's loss, write about the climax of their revenge! I want to see how your characters deal with the loss, do they seek revenge? Do they run away and hide?

Challenger: Desert_ Demon
Length: 500-700 words
Prize: 300g

Winner:


Good luck everyone!

the Demon

Yes.

I second the motion! 3nodding Now I have to think of my characters revenge plans. eek

~Kiyo

~Direct continuation of previous blurb~

Lilia had lost track of how far she had walked in the forest. Her thoughts were of Nicholas and Marta again. She wondered if they were alright, but knew they weren’t. She let her trail of though wandered freely; it was less painful not to dwell on one thing for too long.

She remembered the day clearly; it was not but a week previous. They had still been setting out to find the missing explorers. So much had happened, and so fast, that it overwhelmed Lilia’s senses. She sat down, breathing deeply, trying to recall the exact moment her world ended.

It was a long while before the tears receded, and resolutions took their place. She lifted herself high, and saw the smoke rise above the trees to mark where the camp was. She walked swiftly, for it must have grown late, the sun had been replaced by the silver light of the moon.

**
Kate and Nathan looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. Lilia had returned. Not only that Kate noted, but she returned with an answer, a form of hope. What that hope might entail was unknown.

At Kate’s glance, Nathan stopped himself from voicing a question. Nathan and Kate had been waiting for a couple hours, he was more than exhausted. They waited patiently for Lilia to talk.

"Goodnight." She shot out, and quickly crawled into her bedroll which had been put beside the warm fire.

Kate was first to protest. "What do you mean "goodnight"?! You're not the only one hurt by this; we need to know what you're thinking!"

"What I am thinking, is that I'm going to find Nicholas and Marta. We went to the abbey, and there was nothing left there for me." The reply was so somber that Kate almost cried for Lilia's pain.

"And how are you planning to find them?" Nathan was not as affected as Kate had been. He wanted answers, and not vague ones.

Lilia, with her back turned from them, and the fire, was quiet. She didn't know where to start looking.

"If Kalva wants revenge, he will be after me, not Nicholas and Marta. I figure that he will send a message somehow, or come looking himself. When he does, I will go freely. We're going to make a stop in town, a very quick one, to pick up some poison." She let the conclusion sink in.

"You going to try and poison Kalva, we got that much, but how?" Nathan was always blunt. He didn't talk much, but he had always been blunt.

"I don't know how yet. He will be keeping an eye out for such things, so I can't poison a dagger. I was thinking of an old trick my mother had taught me to keep safe from bandits. I will need a hair clip, and tiny pouches for the poison." She took a pause again, to let it sink in. Nathan had not heard anything of the sort. Kate, though, had.

"Oh you’re planning to use the poison flowers?! All women are taught that in my village. You take small packets of poison, and tie them tightly with string. You then attach them to any normal hair clip. The clip attaches to the hair closest to the scalp, and stays hidden from sight." Kate had used this since she was a little girl. She had only stopped when she attended the abbey, for it was safer there.

Nathan was still confused. So they had poison in there hair? How would they reach or open the pouches? The idea was still a blur to him, and he said as much.

Kate sighed, to her, it seemed simple. She guessed only girls knew the trick. "If you're attacked, you just pull one of the packets free of the clip. The pouches burst under pressure. So you just take the opening of the pouch, and push. If you hit the face, you have a good chance of getting away with your life." Kate seemed proud of her explanation.

Nathan was still skeptical, but in theory it sounded like an actual plan. He turned to Lilia, who still had her back turned. He watched her for a moment. She hadn't agreed with Kate, or even said anything.

Kate caught Nathan's glance, and watched Lilia as well. Kate, being closer to Lilia, started laughing so hard, Nathan thought her face would explode.

"What's so funny?" He asked, wondering if Kate could even breathe through her laughing fit. To Nathan, this didn’t seem the time to fool around.

"L-Lilia! She's sleeping!" Kate tried to calm herself with deep breaths. She soon went into another fit as Nathan started to laugh as well.

"She tells us she wants to poison a guy, and save two others, and then falls asleep?!

Kate and Nathan continued to laugh; it was a welcome emotion they didn't want to end. Soon they calmed, and Nathan put out the dieing fire. Kate got out the bedrolls, and before going to sleep herself, put a comforting arm on Lilia's shoulder. The gesture reminded Nathan of his mother tucking him in at night.

They both soon fell asleep; it would be a long day tomorrow.

Well I might as well submit something to keep Kiyome company. Hopefully today or tomorrow someone else will post, maybe next time I'll choose something a bit more liberal so people post. Ah well, there's a couple days left, you'd think Vale would post seeing as he's got nothing better to do than be sick ( j/k whee ).

Anyway, here I am.

***

There came a low, thudding against the thick wooden door of the tall farm house. The family inside was settling into bed, the father, Fargo, tucked his little girl neatly into bed and kissed her on the forehead. He heard the dull thudding, whispered a sweet prayer to his daughter before briskly taking the steps.

He hesitated at the door, bandits were common, but this sounded different. “Who’s there?” He said quietly through the door, but the thudding continued without stop. Fargo peered through the eye-hole, he could see the top of someone’s head as it struck the door again and again.

Fargo opened the door, he stood shocked at the man who stood before him, his tattered clothes and wasted frame, Roky looked about to die. “You’re alive.” Fargo gaped, Roky’s eyes flitted up to, they cast a deathly stare that saw Fargo recoil in fear. “We thought you were dead, you left so suddenly…”

“I hate to ask, but can I come in? It’s really cold, and I haven’t eaten in… I don’t remember.” Roky’s drawl words struck a sad cord with the man as he ushered the meek looking man inside.

“Rest here,” Fargo urged him and carried him to a fine wooden chesterfield. “I’ll be right back, I’ll fix you something to eat.” Roky closed his eyes and nodded, his mind swam in confusion, all the events in his mind were right, except how did he got here.

He awoke to the firm grip of Fargo who shook him awake, his wife by his side, she looked dreadful with tears streaking down her face. “Please eat this, we won’t let you die in our house.”

Roky took in the mouth watering food with his eyes and nose and sat up quickly, the world spun but he grabbed for the food they had set before him. “I don’t suppose I should sleep outside then? Just in case.” He gorged himself until the plate was licked clean, his stomach too full he sat back and stared weary eyed at the loving couple.

“Don’t jest Roky, we don’t like it.” Mether protested taking his cold, frail hand in hers. “Where have you been my son? You left in such a hurry, a letter is all you left us. Huronia has been sad everyday you were gone and still was yesterday. It’s been three long years Roky, where did you go? What did you do? I understand we know nothing about your past, but we consider you a son to us, and we want you to be as family.”

Roky stared absently into the dieing embers of the fire. He felt like them in a way, the act of full, blazing passion and fury was over, he had nothing more now. He stared teary eyed into the two loving parents’ eyes. His tears fell like rain, yet he uttered no sound until he spoke.

“I killed them all.” He said simply, his tattered, dirt ridden shirt was now sopping up his tears and forming one long dark spot on his shirt. “I spent three years hunting my father’s murderers. I formed an army of cutthroats and thieves, spies and militaries and ex-militaries. I killed them all, my plans were perfect, my house and father are avenged and now I am without purpose. I am without wife, without child, without l-love. You have done nothing more than feed a corpse. Their blood stains my hands and all I see are weapons. I should leave, tell Huron I’ve died, and fallen into the grace of For’s love so that she can be happy again.”

“Then you have nothing to do but live here and be happy.” Mether said wiping the tears from his eyes. “You did well to avenge your father, and now you need rest and be whole again. There are many lovely ladies in town that would fall for a man like you. Come slee-”

A creek in the floor snapped Roky’s head to side, his paranoid reflexes still intact. At the top of the stairs stood a much older Huronia. They stared awkwardly at one another, Huronia burst into a fit of tears, flew down the stairs and onto Roky. She sobbed endlessly into his chest, she cried her words, none of which he understood. The girl held him tightly, Roky’s own eyes watered again until he finally broke down. He accepted his new life in the crying arms of the young girl, but the blood was stick thick in his mind and he cried more out of sorrow than happiness, as was his way, as it had always been.

***

Mine's a little long too, but since I ain't getting a piece of the action bones to you all!

Come on guys, post something? I have so little to do all day...

I took forever to post because I've still been thinking all week! sweatdrop I have most of it written down, but as usual, I never like anything I write crying , but I suppose I'll post it anyway...I might not have time to finish typing it all at once, so here it is (some of it at least):

Nara knelt down to the wounded dragon. She observed it's injuries carefully. A deep cut ran down it's neck, stretching all the way down to it's right thigh, where blood was rapidly seeping out. She ignored all of the commotion around her, ---the agonizing screams, cries of battle, and the hatred of the war that would forever stain the bloody day---and whispered a spell into the air. With the little power she had remaining at the moment, an invisible shield concealed her and the dragon, giving them ample protection for the moment. "We should be safe for now," sid Nara. "No one can see us, as long as my shield lasts, so for the time being, we're invisible. Just stay still, and I'll take care of that wound."

Recognizing the dragon from her own country, Nara tried to recall where she had seen it. She did not recall his name, but knew him to be quite powerful. How has a dragon so powerful as him been injured so severely?, she thought. As a dragon, his natural resilience to magic should have protected him from any spells, and I doubt any creature could have defeated him in combat without magic.

Mumbling a simple healing spell, Nara raised her hands over the dragon, stretching them out before her, as a green glow covered the dragon's wound, slowly spreading across it's body, and closing the deep cut. "You should be fine now." she said, as the dragon began to regain consciousness. Grateful that she was sitting right by a river, Nara cupped her hands, and drew some water from the river. "Drink," she said, holding the water out to the dragons mouth. Without a word, it simply obeyed her, slurping the cold water down it's throat.

"So," said Nara, as the dragon lifted it's neck to view her clearly, "what, may I ask, is your name?"

"Ayamen," the dragon replied softly.

"Of course," she said, finally remembering the dragon. "You are of my country. A great hero you were known to be, though your state at the moment is a bit battered up. I suggest you wash off all of that blood by the river. After that, I believe we have a war to return to."

The dragon nodded in thanks and headed to the end of the river. The invisible barrier had already gone, but Nara hadn't really noticed, nor had she cared. Her work here was done.

As she turned to head to the Northern temple, where most of the soldiers had gone, she turned, startled to hear the loud roar of Ayamen. "Ayamen!" she called, running through the foggy mist around her, and heading down the river to his location, to find two soldiers ---who were, judging by their attire, of the western temple--- attempting to imprison the dragon with flamed wires.

With a swift motion, Nara leaped over them waving her staff to send a poweful blast of wind. Carefully landing on the dragon's back, she pulled out her dagger, and cut all of the wires. "Let's go!" she cried. Fixing herself on Ayamen's saddle, the two flew out of the area. Sending one more blast of wind down to the soldiers, though she knew they were probably already dead fromt he first one, Nara clutched onto Ayamen's neck, hardly feeling any safer in the mist of the dreary sky.

Ok, I'm done. That's about it... xd

Maybe the time for this week's writing challenge should be extended another week, or at least another day or so...?