Welcome to Gaia! ::

for those of you sillies who can't use your imagination, or get confuzzled by new names, this is how I pronounce these words. You can say them any which way you want, this is just how I think of them.
Hytheira: high--theer-ah or, high--there-ah, doesn't matter.
Nrakkon: n-rack-ken (most people say it n-rack-KON, but this way sounds better)
Nigredo: neh-grey-doe (this name is similiar to a latin word that means "deep within the mind", or "subconscious")
Fethenai: feth(rhymes with death)-an-eye. her name, in Hytheiran, literally means 'light'
Scholar's House: like school. a scholar in a certain
subject would pass on his knowledge to others (usually chidren) in the area, out of his own home.
Tantianna: taunt-tee-on-ah
Daine:dayne (rhymes with pain)
Dresden: drez-din
Lilitha: lill-ith-ah
Waldeck wall-deck (this is actually a tiny town in Canada we often drive through. it's in the praries, so i thought it would be funny to give that name to an ocean travelling character.)
SorenaSore-en-ah (or sore een ah, like sailor moon, lol)

more names and terms will be added as part one gets longer. ^.^ i'm currently working on drawing a few of my characters, and a title page. once i'm finished them, i'll post them here. crit them if you want, but they're just for visual.
p.s: it seems that the gaia forums won't let me indent. i apologize if it is harder to read without them.

-sakura

oh! surprised i see. i'll do that later.
thanks!

Nigredo (and a titlepage!) completed:

enjoy. :3
(he stares into your soul if you let him. he won't eat it though. i think. lol)

the picture in my signature is his little sister Fethenai. my friend drew her wearing a dress a stuffed animal had on in my room. i thought it would be funny if her tailor forgot armholes, so that's where that came from. XD

They had great fun that day, and for days after. Nigredo spent every waking moment studying the ship, climbing the ropes, getting to know the crew and learning how to sail with six grand sails. Tantianna spent as much time with him as she could. She had almost completely forgotten about those three little words she had meant to say, and enjoyed her waning childhood to the fullest, guessing he was doing the same. Near the end of his stay, Waldeck finally broke down to visit Dresden, Nigredo’s father, brother of the king. He assumed he would be surprised to see him, and he was glad that no-one else knew the real reason of his coming. When they reached the house, the children ran off, still brimming with excitement, planning on telling as many as their friends about their experience as they could. They suspected the two men they left together would be simply chatting; catching up on old times, sipping brandy. Of course, he was really there for a much more important--and darker--reason. Shock and awe filled Dresden’s face the moment he stepped into his house.


V: Discusions


“By Gods!” he breathed standing bolt right. “Waldeck! I thought you dead! Why..” he caught sight of his eye patch, but quickly looked away. “Why did you come back?” He leaned on the back of his chair for support.

“Calm yourself, Swift.” He twitched at the sound of his professional name. He was used to being called ‘darling’ or ‘father’ nowadays. “You outta sit down.” He did.

“You, don’t have bad news, do you?” Swift let out a gasp of air, letting all of his positive assumptions go away with it.

“I’m not sure what to call it. Nrakkon isn’t here, is he?” Swift shook his head.

“He’s out with his mother for the day.” He locked eyes with him, implying he didn’t press his son’s absence much further. “He doesn’t get to do that much.” Waldeck nodded.

“Understood. But, from what I know, times are about to change. Dramatically.” He scratched his head, twisting the string which held the patch. They sat in silence, both trying to understand what was just said.

“Will it change for the better or the worse?” Swift’s voice had shifted to a very serious, tired tone as began the search for something to drink. Waldeck’s eyes gave a flash of lightning when he saw this, and he rose his voice in order for him to truly hear.

“I know you’ve been living happily since Nrakkon was born!” he tried to calm Dresden’s nerves, but he already had a dusty bottle in his hand. “I’m so sorry I had to return with something like this on my mind, but I had to. I couldn’t stay away. Something very significant is going to happen in this city. It could very well be something horrible. All I know is that I had to come and warn you. We must prepare for what is to come!” he was pleading now. He snatched the bottle from Swift’s hand. “It will happen when we least expect it. I don’t know it we’ll even be ready for it, if we do prepare!”
Swift snatched the bottle back. He pulled out the cork, frowned and put it back, ashamed at himself.

“An attack, maybe?” he suggested, putting the liquor back on his desk. Waldeck looked at it as if it was some dangerous animal, and with a flick of his wrist it flew to the cupboard and locked itself away before Dresden could argue.

“Yes, I believe so. Though, I couldn’t say who by. They are unknowns.”

“That’s unheard of!” Swift snorted, puffing himself up. “We have no enemies. Besides, we’ve never been attacked before. We know every trading giant in the country. There’s no way any of them could be upset without me or my brother knowing, and even they wouldn’t dare attack us!”
Waldeck shook his head and wrung his bony, scarred hands, growing nervous.

“It shall happen. I am sure of it! Don’t deny me, of all people!” Swift stared hard at him, the news, like a slow, heavy fog clouding his head. Everything was about to change--maybe destroyed.

“I will contact my brother shortly,” Dresden sighed, “and we’ll call a conference with all the Leaders. Security will be increased--that’s a given--but that is all that can be done before we know more.” Swift bent down to Waldeck, still sitting stiffly in his favourite chair, and came dangerously close to his face--and his covered eye. “So, will you run away then? Or will you stay here and see if your premonition is correct?”
Waldeck glared back, his single eye narrowing.

“I am no coward,” he spat, “and don’t you ever use that tone with me again!” Swift backed away a little, surprised at his sudden aggressiveness. Soon, Waldeck smiled. “It is most unlike you, acting like this. Well,” he got up abruptly, ending the conversation, “I told the children to return home before dinner. Nigredo should be back soon. I will be back at sunset to begin plans. Until then..” he opened the door, and gave a delightfully evil grin. “Take care of yourself.” And then the door closed, leaving Royal Dresden Swift miserably, and so utterly alone.

Soon the children and Lilitha returned. They were greeted by their eldest family member at the door, and coolly asked to sit. He said nothing else; just sit and listen. Lilitha immediately knew something was going to hit them hard, and picked up her feisty daughter, sitting her on her lap, twirling her hair without even realizing it. The news spilled from Swift’s mouth like molasses: sticky; dark; slow. Lilitha said nothing, desperately trying to calm her sobbing daughter. Nrakkon was up and pacing back and forth, snapping at anyone who dared comfort him, at times cursing.

“How do we know this isn’t all a load of rubbish?” he barked at his father, his fists clenched. “Why should we get so worried over someone’s words? Words! That’s all they are!” His father grabbed his wrist, stabbing him with his stern eyes.

“It is much better to be safe than sorry. I trust Waldeck’s words as I do my family’s. He travelled long and far to get here, just to tell me this. That is why I’m worried. He wouldn’t of bothered if it weren’t true.” True. It was true.
Nrakkon’s face was sour, but he said nothing.



A grand meeting was held that night, just after sunset, with Waldeck in attendance. There were much more speeches than shouting and arguing (like previous councils), given the graveness of the news. Small disagreements arose, but each was quickly solved by a short, logical answer. The night was long and tiring, but conclusions were met.

“I have heard word of a rebel group.” Swift said to the head governor. “They raided the badlands a while ago, but failed.” The old man raised his brows.

“Why would they attack us? We do not even know of their name! We have nothing to offer.” Swift took a swig of water.

“They are the only culprits I can think of,” he grumbled. The governor grunted, unimpressed.

“If this earth were free of havoc, we would learn nothing.” Before Swift could comment, someone took the governor’s arm and lead him away. Swift cursed, and went to find his brother. He wasn’t hard to find at all. He was the only one surrounded by people on all sides. He also was the tallest amongst all the old men; his head poked out from the crowd. He spoke sparingly, trying to soak up all the chatter. His eyes met his brother’s and he began to budge his way through the people, breaking off his conversations like twigs. It was several long moments before the brothers faced each-other.

“Ha! Always the center of attention,” Swift murmured into his glass, avoiding his brother’s burning eyes.

“And you always loved to watch,” sneered Daine. A moment of silence lingered between them, each of their minds wondering off into the past--their long ago childhood.
Swift coughed and straightened his collar.

“So…how is Nigredo?” Swift only glanced at his face. A wire thin smile appeared on his own, as he swirled the contents of his glass.

“I have never once counted a time you asked about Nrakkon,” he chirped, malice clearly in his voice. He didn’t give his brother time to respond. “I do not rank my sons, or favour one over the other. I am surprised that you do.”
Daine shook his head, disappointed at where this was going.

“This is not the time for family matters, Dresden. There are more important matters at hand.” Swift bit his lip. He bowed his head for a moment, seemingly sulking.

“My family is the most important matter,” he stated. Daine wrung his hands, and stared to the floor.

“Look, I’m sorry if my actions offended you. But as I’ve heard…” he swung his head around the room. “Nigredo was Royaled seven days ago? You chose him?” Dresden didn’t nod, only stared.

“Nrakkon and I have talked it over, as did Lilitha and I. It is has been agreed Nigredo will be your successor to the Royal house.” He paused, looking for some falter in his brother’s face. He’d worked hard on his reputation as leader. Swift knew he wasn’t about to be outdone by a child. His face might have been hard, buy he could see the utter distaste in his sibling’s eyes. “Yes, it is true. The moment he comes of age, your eighty season rule will end. Nigredo Swift replaces Daine the Strong. Yours is the shortest rule of any, isn’t it?” The distaste in Daine’s face grew to utter outrage. He could see it. He wanted nothing more than to strangle him. He could have done it too--he was certainly strong enough--but he only gritted his teeth, not daring to do anything else with so many people in the room.

“I can’t say I did not expect my decision. Nrakkon knows his brother, dare I say, better than I do. He is the one who will train him; Nigredo needs him. It would be a crime to give his guide to you. It is clear now that he is a guide, not a leader. This is my decision--and it is Nigredo’s. There is nothing else to discuss.”
Daine was thoroughly impressed at his speech. He gave him a little smile, slicing through the tension. The two men glanced around awkwardly, clearing their throats, only now aware of the attention they gained themselves. Eventually, the stabbing eyes turned away, and the room rose up to its perpetual chatter.

“You’re right,” Swift sighed, Daine was taken slightly aback, though he wasn’t quite sure what he was talking about. He was about to say so when Dresden continued, “There are more important matters than us.” Daine nodded. The subject had been changed. About time.

“I found it a bit odd Waldeck came straight to you, even after what he did so long ago.” He rubbed his neck. “He would have saved himself a lot of trouble by coming straight to me.”

“Yes, I did find that odd. Maybe,” be bowed his head, mumbling into his glass again, “it was a gesture of apology for his crude departure last time.” He glanced up at his brother, who suddenly had become stark still. “Something wrong?” Both of them glanced behind, both feeling the prickles on the back of their necks. “Oh..him.” Waldeck was a few feet away, rambling off to a few governors. Daine grunted. He certainly was a character, Waldeck. Trusting him was difficult; he came and went as he pleased, and that eye. That god damn eye.

“Daine,” Swift put a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”
His eyes were narrowed in deep thought, his mouth forming a thin line. He always kept that eye covered. No-one had ever seen it naked. Daine pictured it as stark white, watery, and red rimmed, possibly larger than his other. He wondered if there was a lid to cover it, if there were lashes surrounding it, and if there was any coloring to it at all. He felt goose-bumps raise on his arms as his mind formed images. Maybe that was why people didn’t trust him; he just creeped them out.
Swift caught him staring. He knew that, in a few moments, Waldeck would be staring back. Whether he saw them or not, he always knew he was being stared at. He waited patiently as a glistening bead of sweat slid down his brother’s open neck. He watched the darks of his eyes grow wider, he watched the way he wrung his hands. Swift wasn’t afraid of Waldeck, but it was quite apparent his brother was. Maybe it was just his superstitions coming through, or just the eye itself. He didn’t know for sure. Swift heard his breath stop. He immediately shot a glance at Waldeck. He was staring back all right. It was not a cold stare, but he seemed to take it that way. Waldeck seemed curious more than anything as to Daine’s reaction. Swift smiled, and shouted:

“Hey Waldeck! Got a moment?” he nodded back, and wormed his way through the crowd as Dresen had done earlier. He got a dirty, almost hating look from his brother, but he ignored it. “Oh would you relax? I’m asking him a few questions. He’s never going to lift that patch, so quit worrying.” He had a scolding tone now, one that his older, stronger brother had never heard. He was used to being the one in charge; the way his younger, quieter brother spoke to him now was infuriating. What was with his sudden change in attitude? Waldeck stepped in front of them, eyed Daine head to foot and said,

“You’ve changed.” He was not joking. He often didn’t. Swift had had enough fun with his brother. Now it was time for business. He exchanged a concerned look with the sailor.

“Could I ask for a moment alone?” he asked his brother, though he already knew the answer.

“Yes.” He turned away, grumbling something inaudible.

“Thanks." Swift tool Waldeck's shoulder and drew him away hastily. He glanced around the room. Yes, he timed himself well; the crowd of people was thinning now, and the absence of Waldeck among them made them move a lot faster.

"So what is is that you want, Swift?" Waldeck snapped. "I thought we went over this already."
Swift grunted.

"Hardly. I want some answers, Waldeck." His voice was grave; hostile for the first time.

"Answers? For what?"

"Let's not forget about the seriousness of this situation," he said grimly. "Just because you were involved with this Meeting doesn't mean we've forgotten." Waldeck's eyes darkened a bit, but then lightened. He bade Swift to continue. "Before you left last time, Daine was just elected. You knew he was in charge. You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble by going to him first instead of me." He paused, indicating Waldeck to explain. "Waldeck...why did you come to me instead of my brother?"
They were both silent for a long time--but both for different reasons.

"I thought you would know by now..." Waldeck sighed, rubbing his neck. He opened his mouth to say something, thought better, and shut it. He didn't know where he had been! For seven days the children had made him feel welcome. For seven days he avoided politics. Knowing the seriousness of his news, that didn't look good. What was he going to do? He had to think. Did the children charm him? Was he pulled toward their curiosity? He couldn't remember.

"Well? I haven't got all day. Daine will wonder what's going on." His face had a mixture of annoyance and determination. He was going to get the answer, one way or another. "Come on! You know you can't lie to me. Not about this." He folded his arms, an indication of his waning patience.

"I-I met your younger child at the docks--Nigredo, correct?--and what seemed to be his friend." He let out a bit of his breath, but Swift bade him to continue. "They followed the ship in, actually. Seemed fascinated with it. I invited them aboard for a bit of a tour."

"Hm," grunted Swiftm as if this was not a surprise. "They do love exploring."
Waldeck backed up a step.

"Uh, you see, Swift, it wouldn't be that big of a deal but.."
Swift raised his brow, confused.

"But that was seven days ago Swift." Waldeck shut his mouth, biting his lip. He shut his eyes and waited for the curses.

"Seven DAYS?" he bellowed. When a few people glanced at him, he spoke a bit softer. "You didn't come to me for seven days? Whatever happened to 'preparing for what is to come?' And arriving with no notice beforehand--that's unacceptable!'
Waldeck bowed his head.

"Yes, I know. At the time it seemed like a swell idea. I wanted to get my mind off it all, and enjoy the land, like I used to. It has been a long time since I have set foot on land. Even when restocking the ship, I stay on board, filling out orders, charting out the next location..." his voice trailed off with his eyes. He had given a lame excuse, and he knew it.

"Enough pity!" Swift snapped. "You said yourself that we must be prepared! And here you are, wasting precious time! Is there something to worry about or isn't there?"
Swift quieted. A long, tense moment passed. Eventually Waldeck answered, mouse-like.

"Yes. It is coming." He paused. "The thing is, Swift, I know when it will be drawing nigh. No event or lack thereof could ever speed up of delay its coming. It will come at a specific time, no matter what. That is how the Fates work."
Swift sighed, feeling the burning feeling in his chest cool a little. What he said made sense--what comes, comes. But..

"But why? Why did you chooses seven days to follow children?"
Waldeck smiled. It was not the same smile the children saw; this smile was weak; thin; feeble. It was a sad smile.

"The real reason? I wanted to gain Nigredo's trust. I know Nrakkon hates me--possibly because of what you have told him. I did not want the same of Nigredo. I believe he will need me some day."
Swift could think of nothing to say. This seemed a more passable excuse. Moments passed, each of them biting their lip, eyes staring at the wall. After glancing at Daine, (flicking his eyepatch as he did so) Waldeck turned to leave. Swift caught his sleeve.

"Waldeck," he whispered, " I only ask one thing of you. Just one."
He stared back at Swift, his eye unmoving.
"Yes?"

"Don't leave the city. Please. Not until I tell you to. Even if your crew leaves, you must stay until this is over--until you are no longer needed. That is all I ask of you." He took his voice down again. "We don't want another repeat of last time, do we? I never did figure out what made you leave so suddenly. It was almost like you were disappointed..."
Waldeck turned away, sighing a little. Swift called after,

"I know I will never know the reason. You will never tell me, I know you won't. None of that matters now. They only thing that matters now is..now." Waldeck's eyes became steely, and he pried himself away from Swift's eyes, leaving him staring after, wondering if he would do the one favor, as he asked.
Daine came shuffling over to him, his eyes following Waldeck carefully out of the room.

"Are you two finished?" Swift laughed a little at his brother--he sounded like a small child trying to sound firm.

"Yes, we are." He caught one more stare at Waldeck, but turned his mind to the present.

"Good. Then we shall get on with matters, yes?" he seemed to be gaining his confidence.

"Matters? What matters?
Daine grunted, growing impatient.

"The Royaling of your son! You have home to easily forget it." Swift sighed and walked past his brother.

"It has all been worked out. There is nothing that needs to be discussed. It will happen in three days, at high sun, just like tradition tells us. As for the planning, the dressing, the decorating..There is a committee--I believe you elected them--just for that."
Daine clenched his fists. Was his brother, his younger brother making fun of him? "I can see you ears steaming, Daine the Strong. Why don't you take an hour's break? To cool down a bit, maybe?" He patted his shoulder. Ironically, Daine's ears became redder. Swift, turning away, took no notice. "If you have nothing else to tell me, you shall have to excuse me. I have much to discuss with my son."
He in fact didn't have anything to tell Dresden. They both had said quite enough. The two of them went about their separate business, and did not speak to each-other for the rest of the day. The Royaling was a time of celebration for the city, even with the ominous news.

VII: Nigredo's Confessions

The next day came fast and swift. The whole morning seemed to be fogged and blurry for Nigredo. He hardly spoke to anyone, as they dressed him and combed his hair and washed his hands and face. They changed his outfit many times, but finally decided on one, a beaded and brightly coloured one, lined with gold. Nigredo felt absolutely ridiculous wearing it, but he bit his tongue. The team of women around him never seemed to stop chattering. It was only when one of them began to braid his hair with leather that he realized they were scared. Their chatter was nervous, and they deliberately did not speak of 'the news'. He caught on woman's hand shaking as she put beads in his hair. He wanted desperately to say something to calm her, but he couldn't think of a thing. How could he tell someone to be calm when he himself was terrified? He was frightened more than anybody. After today, a completely new, cursed life lay ahead of him, and there was a good chance he would be doing it alone. He tried to hide the cold sweat on his hands, but those poor women just kept catching him, wiping them off. what would he see today? Death and destruction, or something more subtle, slower and predictable? The more the thought about it, the more he wished he didn't know. Could he really do nothing to stop it? Was he just going to stand and watch this disaster unfold? Waldeck said the things he saw would happen, no matter no much resistance there was.
When he finally got a glimpse of the outdoors, he saw them. He had to squint to see, but on top of the city's outer walls, he could see the guards, armed and ready. The preparations below were nothing but an illusion; the real danger lay just outside those towering walls of brick and mud. He'd heard his father talking to someone about something called a Barrier, above the city. He had no idea how that was possible, or even sure what a Barrier was. The guards were stationed all the way around and the opening to the port was closed off, leaving the ships stranded without their captains and crew, open to fire. Waldeck certainly wasn't happy, Nigredo thought, as it was now nearly impossible to escape the catastrophe he himself had predicted. Nigredo wondered how many people would actually show up to the ceremony. Shouldn't they be locked up safe in their homes?

"Homes are easier to burn," said his father to the Defense minister earlier, "they would be sitting ducks. If we trick them into thinking we're in our houses, even for a moment, it might buy us some time."
So it was going to be an attack, then. Waldeck didn't really specify what kind of disaster it was. How did they know it wasn't an earthquake? Or a giant ocean wave? Or a fire, or even a plague? He guessed for something to happen so suddenly, it would have to be a siege of some sort. But when would it happen?

"Master Swift! Get over here!" yelled Sorena, one of his mother's maids. He caught her eye and shuffled over, careful not to trip in his ornate, but completely dysfunctional outfit. He attempted to give her a smile, but she pushed him in the door. "I'm not finished with you yet. We still have plenty to do. My, what did you do to your face? I've never noticed that scratch before."
Nigredo sighed and sat down. "Your cloak." She pulled the fasten over his head--careful not to mess his newly tamed hair--and let it rest on his shoulders.

"It's heavy," he whined.
She ignored him, and unfolded the hood at his back, smoothing out the wrinkles.

"It's beautiful. Nice and thick. Such a pretty colour, too." She took his chin and lifted his head. "Hmm..no, that scratch just won't do." His heart skipped a beat as she touched the scratch with a finger. A blue spark came on impact, creating a light pop. He lurched backward, startled. His hand flew to his face. Of course, the scratch was gone. She ignored this as well. "Hmm..you certainly have a horrid taste in earrings, don't you?"
Holy cow. This woman caught everything. At least her fussing kept both their minds off the hundreds of guards outside. He flinched with pain as she tore out his old wooden stubs, and replaced them with new, painted ones. A few piercings he had neglected, and she had to stab them through with a pin to get them in.

"Ow.." he squeaked. He could feel a trickle of hot blood on his ear.

"Stop whining. If you had taken care of your ears properly, this wouldn't have happened." She put five in each ear, some of them stubs, some of them beaded metal rings. He could have sword he ears felt heavier.
When she finished that, she gave each ear a little touch, and the redness, sores and blood vanished, though they still hurt him, and throbbed warmly. Just when he thought she was finished, she found something else to pick at.

"You are not plucking my eyebrows!" he batted her hand away. This had simply gone too far. She put her hands on her hips.

"Fine. It's either that, or eye blackener. See, I wear it too," she pointed to her own eyes, which were rimmed with black, and curled at the ends, making her lashes look bigger; more feminine. It was a girl thing. Not a guy thing.

He chose the eyebrows. They were less obvious. For a moment, he wondered if Tantianna was going through this to. Surely her parents wouldn't allow her to go out with her tangled, wild hair and boy's clothes. He felt a little less sorry for himself them. He stole a glance out the window, at the sun. It was high in the sky, but still not overhead. After all, she still had to tan and polish his boots, shine his hair, clean his nails (he disliked that greatly) ,strap on his sheath, and go over the ceremony. He thought his father should maybe be doing that, but he guessed he was busy.

"Are we almost done?" Nigredo begged, trying to sound polite. Sorena had a small bowl in her hand, and with a crusher, she was mixing something. It looked like paint.

"Almost, little one." She sat down and picked up a brush. "Lean in a little, please." She dipped the brush in the paint, and lifted it to his cheek. He felt the cool tip glide across the marking already there on his face; a natural one. The paint was just a little lighter and brighter, and it made it stand out, like it was made for decoration instead of its true purpose. "Nigredo Swift takes over Daine the Strong. Never thought I'd see the day." Nigredo gave her a weak smile. He didn't know why so many were happy to be rid of his uncle. He wasn't a bad King at all. Maybe they weren't happy to be rid of his uncle, but at the arrival of himself. He hoped that was not what it was.
Sorena found other visible markings to paint: a few on his arms, a fragment of one on his neck, one on the topside of his hand. When she finished, she stood back to admire her work.

"Are we finished now?" he pleaded, stealing a glimpse of the sun.

"Hmm." She put a little powder on his face, turned an earring, tightened his cape. "Yes," she smiled, "now you are. Go and find your father. And don't run." He smiled and scurried out the door. "Mess anything up, and I'll fix you good!" she warned. Nigredo cringed at that--he'd gotten quite a few good smacks from her--but walked on, going the opposite way of his father. He knew exactly were he was--he hadn't moved since dawn. No, he wasn't off to meet his father. Tantianna was more important right now. He was sure her parents were done with her by now. As he moved out of the courtyard and into the street, he could feel the stares, hear the mutterings, and caught a glimpse of a chattering group of girls, gawking at him with sheer amazement. He guessed he looked good, but he didn't care. He felt ridiculous. Instinctively, he counted the houses. He could feel himself speeding up as he got closer to his destination. Between the twelfth and thirteenth houses, there was an alley. They always met there. He forced himself to slow down; he was drawing even more attention to himself, half running, half walking.

"Coo. Coo."

His ears caught the sound instantly. His head swivelled to find it, but he couldn't. It didn't sound like a bird...Then it hit him. It was Tantianna. He could just see her amongst the building's shadows, smiling. Girls lined the streets like ants on a hill now, so she hadn't called him over. Slowly, he made his way over, averting their eyes as best he could.

"'Bout time," she said, her voice low. When he stepped closer, her eyes lit up. "Wow!" she popped, when she eyed his outfit. "You look like you just came from a beauty parlor!" Nigredo's ears went red, and he stared at his feet.

"Fine. Rub it in." He looked up at her, finally taking in how good she herself looked. Her wild hair was tamed into a tight ponytail, her bangs cut perfectly straight. A cloth was wrapped around the pony, and its tails trailed down her back, almost to her ankles. She wore long, golden earrings and her eyes were painted black and gold, and like him, the markings upon her face were painted over. On her shoulders was a thin, elegant shawl, curling towards her feet. Long, billowy pants covered her scabbed knees and bruised legs, and on her feet were gold trimmed sandals.
She was utterly beautiful. Nigredo was lost for words.

"I was just kidding, Nigredo," she said, her eyes lightening. "You actually look quite...handsome."
He smiled. Tantianna tried too, but inside a fire burned. She tried to hide it, arguing with herself whether or not to say those three little words.
Nigredo saw right through her. Inside him, he could feel it too. What was this feeling? It felt most strange. It felt as though little birds were just hatching in his stomach, and beginning to fly around, their little wings tickling his sides.
It was a strange moment, when their eyes locked. It was like they were one person for that moment, as they both spoke books to each other through their eyes. Nigredo finally broke the silence.

"Tantianna..." He took he hands in his. She felt tears brimming in her eyes, but forced them back, not wanting to mess up the makeup her mother had so meticulously applied. She knew what was coming, and no-one could prepare her for it now. "I..I love you. I always have." Nigredo smiled, leaned forward, and kissed her, leaving her stunned, relieved; exhilarated. They held together for what seemed like a very long time, both their worlds stopping, both oblivious to the sound of the streets behind them, oblivious to Waldeck's predictions, oblivious to what their parents had told them.
They finally separated, leaving both of them flushed for a moment. Nigredo tore his eyes away to check the sun.

"Time to go," he said quietly, Tantianna straining to hear. "Come." He offered her his hand, and she took it. "I have so much to tell you. We'll walk together, okay?" She nodded, her mind slowly coming out of the fog which is love, back into reality.
The new couple walked out of the alley, hand in hand, out into the street, avoiding second glances and stunned glares, knowing there was much more important things to be worrying about. It only took Nigredo a few moments to spill everything of the day before, giving her spare moments to breathe, and ask questions. When he was finished, both were silent, Nigredo trying to soak in his own words. He gripped her hand tightly, a desperate attempt to keep the tears brimming in his eyes from flowing over. He found himself choking them back, making a pitiful sound. They were close to the city's center now, and the streets were crawling with people.

"Nigredo," she cooed, sounding like his mother. He stopped walking and so did she. They turned to face each-other. Tantianna reached out to touch him. Nigredo fought the instinct to flinch, and her fingers glided across his face. Yes, there was pain there, she decided. He looked at her so longingly, like she was somewhere far away and he couldn't quite reach her. "Sadness will come later, Nigredo." She brushed a tear away from his eye. "It is too close to the ceremony now. Let's keep walking." She took his hand again. Nigredo couldn't bring himself to say another word. He forced his head up and stopped his tears. "I need you to be strong for me, buddy," she chirped. "Put on a happy face. Just for today."

"I will...try."
She looked unsatisfied.

"Your father will be very disappointed in you if you show up teary-eyed and distraught." Nigredo turned the attention away from himself.
"He's frightened. His smile will be as forced as mine."
They could see the spires overhead now, and the feeling of many bodies close together. A crowd had already drawn. They both glanced at the sun. Tantianna pulled him ahead.

"Look! You're nearly late!" she broke into a run, dragging him along with. He tried to watch his feet to keep from tripping, but voices pulled his head back up. He could hear Sorena yelling for him to get over there or else, his father calling his name and where the hell he'd been, and he caught a glimpse of Waldeck. He was giving him the strangest look. It was almost like a glare...Did he want to say something to him? Did he forget to tell him something?

"Nigredo Swift! Quit gawking and get over here!" screamed Dresden.

"Here he is, Royal Swift!" Tantianna let go of his hand, made a little bow and ran off to find her parents. Nigredo watched her disappear into the crowd, feeling what little confidence he had disappear with her.

"You're lucky I don't twist your ears!" Sorena squawked, straightening his cape. "I told you to go find your father! And instead you go gallibanting around the city--with some girl!" she fumbled with his hair. "Honestly. Your father has to be up there is just a few moments, you know."

Nigredo snapped back to reality. It was happening now? He glanced around to find Waldeck, but he was gone. He looked at the guards. They were looking at him, he could feel it. For a moment he wondered if they were protecting the city, or him.

"Quit staring boy! Get up to the front and remember what I told you!" She pushed him a little, and he began walking through the crowd, all the new information whirling around his head.
Stand up straight. Don't let your your cape twist over your leg, hold your head high. Don't look distracted, look content.

IX: Disaster Strikes

That was when the screams came. Panic had finally gained a full grip on the crowd. A black ball fell on a house nearby, igniting a great ball of flame and air, sending a handful of bystanders flying. Even on the pedestal, Nigredo felt a black of warm wind. There was no-one in the house, but the people beside it... Hastily, he let go of his uncle's arm. Gently he pried the sword from the King's hands. He didn't resist.

"Goodbye." He put the sword in its sheath, and ran towards his father, who took his arm and jumped off the platform. Behind him, he could hear his brother cursing, commanding, shouting. He knelt down to his son, took a long, staggering breath and said, "Nrakkon is in the back house. You know where that is, I know you do. I need you to find him. He will take you somewhere safe. That is all I want you to think about right now."
Just Nrakkon was there? Where was his mother? His sister? And, just as importantly, where had Waldeck gone?

"Just do it Nigredo. There isn't much time." He pulled his son into a short embrace, then let him go, tears brimming in his own eyes. "Go! For God's sake, go!"
Nigredo did as he was told, stumbling at first, but soon breaking into a full run, ripping his leggings. He didn't bother to look behind him. He could hear what was happening. His father was screaming with surprise; then silence.

Burning.

He felt his eyes turning to look, but forced his neck ahead. Nrakkon. He must find Nrakkon. The back house. Where was it? He could feel himself slowing down, his eyes searching the desolate landscape for something--anything--familiar. Everything was so different now. Buildings were missing, there was as strange smell in the air, and most of all, the people were gone. Possibly forever. A cold lump formed in his throat. He could feel it choking off his breath, slowly forming into tears. His eyes began to burn and blur. Blood...he could smell it everywhere. The smell leached from the ground, from near, from far away, from beneath his feet. The back house had to be nearby, but his vision wouldn't clear. He rubbed and rubbed at his eyes, all the while keeping his steady sprint.

"Nigredo! Where the hell are you?"
It was Nrakkon. But where was he?

"Nigredo, get over here NOW!" His head turned from side to side, his eyes finally coming to a stop right in front of him. He rushed over to Nrakkon, who pulled him inside, slamming the door. The room was quiet, much to both their surprise. The windows were shut, tightly bolted. They could barely see each-other in the dark, but both of them could feel the panic and confusion in each other's eyes.

"Nigredo?"

"Yes?"

"Father. Is he...?"
He heard his brother's arms fall to his side, and the cold lump in Nigredo's throat rose again, this time causing tears to erupt on his cheeks. As his shoulders trembled, his brother embraced him, doing his best to quiet Nigredo's panic, and to keep his own from showing.
Time seemed to creep as the two stood in the cold, dank and deserted shack. As great balls of fire burst outside, as people screamed and shrieked for their lives, the two brothers were safe.
For the moment.

"Shh," Nrakkon whispered, trying to sound like his mother. "You'll be alright." But even his own voice was beginning to falter now, and he knew that their pitiful excuse for a shelter wouldn't last much longer. The crashing sounds outside were less frequent now; there weren't many buildings left to knock down, not many left to invade, not many left to empty. Nrakkon knew it was only a matter of time before this one too would be flattened. Things had to happen fast it either of them expected to survive. His decision was made even before he let his brother go. He let the words fall from his lips as quickly and blandly as possible.

"I could not find Mother and Sister."
Nigredo took a staggering step back. Couldn't find them? Neither of them knew whether they were alive or dead? Why weren't they looking right now? He stared back his older, taller brother, his watery eyes overflowing with confusion, denial and agony. Nrakkon made no attempt to touch him, made no attempt move. It was quite clear he didn't intend on looking for them. "They were at the front. Near father."

It was too silent outside, much too silent. The air smelt clammy, dirty, filled with a lingering despair, and emptiness that only death could create. There were bodies lying outside that door, both of them knew, and any one of them could be of the ones they spoke of now. It became apparent to Nigredo no why they had not been found, why his brother gave up the search for them. Somehow, through the dank air, he pulled out his voice.

"So we are...alone?" He spoke to himself rather than his brother, who nodded and his eyes roamed to the door.

"Nigredo...I will not let you die."
He spoke with authority now, even though his own tears were beginning to show. Nigredo would not protest; this was all that this brother, his closest companion, was asking of him through his stony face. "I am your Guide, Nigredo. We will go to the house now. We will use the Stone Tunnels to escape."

The house. What is the house was nothing but rubble by now? The Royal House did seem like one of the first that should fall. It was a sign of order, of rule, of any hope at all. Why wouldn't it have been knocked down by now? And the Stone Tunnels? Nothing but old, useless water pipes, put out of use long before either of them was even born. The plan they had was a weak one, Nigredo admitted it with his doubtful face. Nrakkon's face however did not change. The decision was made: surely perish in the shack, or gain a small, dull promise of life outside its doors. To him, there was no decision. Nigredo had to live and that was that. He could see the doubt blooming on his brother's face, the horror of their situation settling there. It was now. Live or die. Flee or hide. He would let them dwell on the matter no more.

"We are leaving now Nigredo. Don't look at me like that. When I open this door, you will run. Run back the way you came, I will follow. Keep your head up--there is no need for you to see what could be at your feet."
For a moment his mind flickered to Tantianna. Had she survived? He felt disgusted that he had forgotten about her. Where was she now? Dying in some sea of expired people? Fighting her way through intruders with only her own skill? Or maybe she was safe in the caverns, waiting along for his arrival? The moment they had in the alley was so distant, so painfully out of reach. Her warm lips, her glowing skin, her heart so alive, beating so close to him. Tantianna...

"...Will have to use it." Nrakkon had been speaking all that time! He had not even cared to listen. He gave his own head an imaginary smack.

"What?"

"I said 'your sword: don't drop it. Do not lose it. There might come a time you will have to use it."
Lost for words, still a little enveloped in his own thoughts, he nodded. His words hit him numbly now. He could very well have to kill someone that day, someone he didn't know. Someone that could easily return the favour. Someone who very well could have killed his family..he felt a hot rage rise form the pit of his stomach, but he quickly cooled it. Revenge would have to wait. Surviving came first.

"Let's go," he said moving towards the door, where his brother had been standing for quite some time. He reached for the latch to lift it, but Nrakkon grabbed his wrist.

"Nigredo, one more thing. Please."
He listened.

"If you find yourself going it alone, DON'T come back for me. Turn your back and keep going. LEAVE me, you hear?"
Nigredo gaped at him. His face, even though he was speaking of his own death, was defiant, ready. Pride swelled up in him. His brother would die to save him, the one who took his only chance at sitting on the throne away, the one he thought his father had favoured, the one who ran amuck in the city's cobbled streets.

"Nrakkon, I..."

"I don't want to hear it. We are leaving now." His eyes narrowed as he took in a final glance of the room. He would finish his father's task. He would bring Nigredo to safety, even if it meant the loss of his own life. He would do this final errand for his father, for his brother who undoubtedly was King.
The latch was lifted, the door creaked open and two brothers both radically different, but both strikingly similar, streamed out of the wooden brook shed, the younger one's bright clothes ripping and tearing with every long stride he took away from it. They hadn't gone fifty paces when they felt heat erupt from behind them, a deafening crash following it. They had come close to death, so close they could feel it. Nigredo picked up his pace, holding onto the heavy sword at his waist to stop it from bashing into his legs. Nrakkon was not far behind him, but not speeding up at all. His top speed had been reached. He was taller and bulkier than his brother. His legs, though strong, could not keep up with Nigredo. For a moment he wondered if the house was still standing, if the very place they were running to was already flattened, but he forced himself not to think. If they made it, they made it. If the didn't...Well, at least they tried.

They did make it.

The street which they had become most familiar with was lined with rubble. The front door, luckily was still intact, they could both see. The brothers were across the street now, staring. People both living and dead dotted the cobblestone, the ones still standing making damn sure the ones at their feet stayed there.
The intruders were not like anything they had ever seen: they dressed in a strange and primitive way, and the language they spoke was unknown to both brothers, despite many visits and meetings they had had with rulers and traders abroad. Yes, these attackers were strangers. Luckily, they had not been noticed by them...yet.

"How are we going to get across?" whispered Nigredo from behind a crate. Nrakkon narrowed his eyes in thought. They could burst from their hiding place and attack, but after be counted how many of them there were--eleven--he decided against it. Even if Nigredo knew how to use his sword well, it would not be enough. It wasn't worth the risk. He promised Nigredo would survive. From where they sat, he could not see any safer hiding place to run to, and the street was too narrow to create any diversions. After a long pause, he answered his brother.

"We wait."
Nigredo stared at him, dumbfounded.

"You mean sit here while all those people are getting murdered?" his voice was full of malice.

"Keep your voice down!" Nrakkon warned. "We cannot save them. Their fates are set. I'm not losing you too." They glared at each-other for a moment, until Nigredo's eyes softened, and he let out a deep sigh. It was not one of relief.

"Well, I'm not watching it." He knelt down to the ground and then laid down, putting his arms behind his head, a small comfort against the jagged stone. For a moment, Nrakkon thought he would go to sleep, but he kept his eyes open, staring at the sky harshly, seeming to wish for it to swallow him whole.

So they waited.

And waited.

They sat behind those crates full of fish for hours on end, waiting for the strangers to leave the street. The poked and probed at the homes how empty, trying to find who knows what within them. They were in no particular hurry. It didn't seem they had any reason to still be there at all, but they lingered for a long time, some coming and going, until the sun had set.

"We can't stay here forever," Nigredo sighed. They were the first words spoken since that afternoon. And they were true words. They had been lucky to have not been found as it is--too much longer and they would be pushing their luck.

"Just a little longer. There's just the one left, and I think he's getting bored." Nigredo sat up and peeked over the crate--full of apples, he noticed now--with his brother.
One tall, burly man with a face full of dark hair was pacing, back and forth, wandering aimlessly, stopping only to admire the destruction he had caused, occasionally breaking a window, or poking a body with his broadsword, making sure his victim was dead. The look of his face was not an intelligent one; it was twisted into a permanent state of confusion. His eyes seemed to look two different directions, his lips moved tirelessly, making no real sounds. It seemed like he was waiting for something, but the brothers could assume he had forgotten what it was.

"Nrakkon.." his voice trailed off, leaving his tongue dry. This dim witted man would have to leave sooner or later, but Nigredo's head, legs, and bladder screamed in protest. He felt like sprinting from their crevace into the street, across to his home, so close. At his side, he heard a sharp intake of breath. Nrakkon grabbed his arm and pointed a finger.

"There! On his arm! Do you see?" His eyes followed his finger, but met only darkness. The moonlight flickered across his chain mail, adding a drop of light to the otherwise black street.

"Nrakkon, it's dark.." he began, but he only squeezed his arm tighter.

"Look. There. A tattoo."
Nigredo squinted, trying to even find the man. A flicker of metal brought his eyes back to the target. The man's skin was browned with dirt and grime, and at first Nigredo could see nothing. But slowly the moonlight strengthened and the mail fell away for a moment.

"A...star?" Nigredo didn't believe the words he was saying. "What kind of a tattoo is that for a man? And there's a circle around it." Nrakkon said nothing. Nigredo could almost hear the wheels in his brain turning. Slowly, he spoke, this time so quietly that even Nigredo's fine tuned ears strained to hear.

"I have seen it before, I think. But I don't understand...they are peaceful, the Craft Users..."
The Craft. Nigredo had heard his father speak it many times, but he had no idea what it meant.

"And, I have never heard of them branding their sign on their bodies like this..."
These couldn't be the people their father had told them about. He'd seen one once, when he was very small. He had taken a wrong turn in the hall, and ended up in a conference room--while one was in session. Everyone at the table was subtly dressed--almost casually--except for one woman, in a milky white robe. There was a natural, wholesome feeling about her: her hair was wild, with flowers and colourful stems woven into it, and she always maintained good humour. Before he wa escorted out of the room but his red eared father, Nigredo decided the woman sitting before him--who wasn't at all wearing an impatient look--would never hurt a fly. She was a child of nature, his father later told him. A Craft User.
How dare these men wear the Craft's mark? These men weren't sorcerrers, or nature worshippers, they were warriors and murderers. These were either imposters or something much worse.

"A rebel group, maybe?" said Nigredo. "Maybe revolting from the others?"
Nrakkon bit his kip, chewing it over.

"They already have separated from the other clans. Here we have a new breed of Craft User." He shut his mouth curtly, and bent backward behind the crates. "I think they should be called something else. Black Witches, maybe."
Nigredo agreed. These men were not gifted at all in magic or their dark Craft. They were nothing but a bunch of old warriors, revived by a new host. Nothing more.
It was nearly an hour before the man finally looked ahead, stumbled over a body and disappeared out of sight. The brothers waited a few more moments, then ventured out of their hiding place. They heard no signs that they had been seen, so they opened the door, slipped in, and closed it behind them.
One of the most eerie things in life, along with deja vu, dreams and graveyards are empty, silent houses. Houses that seemed to breathe in and out when the cruel winds washed over them, the ones that groaned in agony whenever someone dared to cross it forgotten, decaying floorboards, ones who looked sleepily at your from half closed shutters, its eyes lightly illuminated by the moonlight or sunlight shining behind them. Inside, there was a dead heavy silence, and some smell you couldn't quite trace, for it was in no one particular spot, but everywhere. Each step, each breath you took inside it seemed to edge you closer to death; it was forbidden to be there, and you knew it.

This was the sickly charm of forgotten houses. This was the brother's home now.

Every memory, everything that breathed life into the space was gone now, sucked dry of vigour and light, of happiness. This was a house and nothing more. It was no longer a home. Nigredo could not cry. He glanced at the tapestries--torn, now, the gilded trimmings shorn off in the hopes of extracting the gold within them. The chairs were the same, the handles ripped from their bindings, scrolls were scattered everywhere, the windows partly bashed in, and the stairs leading to the bedrooms were missing in spots, the cupboards and doors had been pulled off their hinges, his father's liquor cabinet was empty, (it's empty evidence was on the floor), and every kitchen appliance was destroyed. All that was missing was the bodies. Nigredo grimaced. He suddenly became thankful they weren't here.
All this he took in in a matter of seconds, before his brother bent down to his height and said softly,

"We need to leave before sun-up. The others down below will have left by then." Nigredo screwed up his face. He was skeptical.

"Others? You really think there's more of us?"

"Of course!" Nrakkon spat. "There must be! There has to be!" He took his shoulders. "We aren't easy to kill, you know that." He smiled, and ruffled Nigredo's hair. "There's too many of us. With the attacker's numbers, it would be an impossible task to take us all."
For a moment, his ears perked up, and he stopped breathing. Out of habit the boys bent down, out of sight, but there was nothing living outside besides a rat scurrying among the bodies. Nrakkon lowered his voice now.

"We need to find the rest of them. Do you remember what mother told you about the Stone Tunnels?"
Nigredo was silent for a few moments, vaguely recalling his now deserted life, then nodded. "There is a hatch under my bed, remember? You found it once when you were little. We're going to go down there, all right? The others will be there. I'm sure they won't wait long after sun-up for us. We need to go, okay?" His last words were those of a small boy; he sounded defeated. "Don't bother bringing anything. I assume everything we need is gone anyway. Let's do, quietly. Don't touch anything." Nigredo said nothing, edging his way across the debris strewn floor. He cringed and held his breath whenever a stair squawked for under his food, the fear of one breaking and causing a tremendous fall mounting with each time he rose higher. He didn't want to die, and certainly didn't want to be killed because of one damn broken stair. But it was when they were rounding the sixth on when something that was certainly not a rat was heard outside. Both stopped breathing at once, their cat like ears twitching involuntarily.
Voices. Foreign voices. They sounded drunk.

"Go!" Nrakkon whispered. "Go up. Quickly! I'll follow in a moment." Nigredo didn't stick around to argue, making the top step in a matter of seconds. He was surprised to find his brother's door unharmed, and the lock still intact. He made no effort to wonder why, and entered. The bed was untouched, cup of water on his brother's nightstand undisturbed, but he took no notice, crouching down, then laying and rolling himself under the bed. It was a tight fit, and more than once the hilt of his sword jabbed him in the stomach. His fingers found the floorboards and began searching for a hole. Where was it? He hadn't been under there for so long. Was he laying on it? Scuffling and cursing, he inched his body across the floor. What took a matter of moments seemed to take hours. He found the latch, lifted the door off, and put his legs inside, letting himself slide halfway in. His pointed ears twitched, warning him of the sound before he even heart it.
Footsteps. Quickly, quietly. The door creaking closed. He saw boots coming toward him.

"Nigredo, you down there?" Nrakkon was hushed, even more so than before.

"Yes."

"Nigredo, listen to me. They are going to destroy the house. Those balls of fire we saw? Those black stones that turn into a blast of wind and fire? That will be the house soon. We need to go. Now."

"Then get under here!" He heard him shuffle to do so, but his stomach leaped when more footsteps were heard. Nrakkon shot up. They had been heard. Or were they just double checking the house for valuables? Either way, they were coming up the stairs. The sound of their chain mail was dangerously close. Nrakkon pointed tot he door, and it locked on command.

"I'll distract them. If something happens, do not--I repeat--do not wait for me. Go."

Angry voices now. Drunk, confused, stupid, hungry. Nigredo heard the quiet shing of a dagger being pulled--Nrakkon's. Words were being mumbled, ones Nigredo was told never to say. Nrakkon was preparing for battle. In his mind, there was not possibility of him losing. After all, Immortals are extremely hard to kill.
Door bursting open. Shouting. Shouting in a strange language, demanding something unknown. Then clear words--spells--and light. Laughter.
Nigredo's heart stopped. Why were they scoffing? Were they that stupid?

Screaming. A thump. Nrakkon's knees on the floor. More light.

Nigredo bit his fingers to keep from screaming himself. The hope of both of them escaping alive was growing thinner by the moment.

Another scream, the walls shaking for its sheerness, its loudness, its duration. Another thump. Nrakkon whining, then growing silent. Feet shuffling. Nrakkon's body was turned over, being pushed by a filthy boot. His lifeless face was within a foot of him now, his blue eyes wide with surprise and pain, his mouth slightly agape. His skin was pale, chalky, waxy. His teal hair had diminished to nothing but a mass of grey, the last of his Immortality, gone. At least there was no blood. None at all.
God, Nigredo thought, he was only fifty. The tears were instantaneous. He was alone. He was the only Royal left.

Footsteps leaving. Doors being bashed in along the hall. There was no point in staying now. He lowered himself below, after taking a moment to stare through tears and mumble "goodbye, brother." He felt his feet hit the hard, uneven stone. Cobblestone. It was nearly completely dark, save for the glimmer of light coming from the world above. The tunnel lay just ahead of him, its pure darkness like a living, breathing abyss, ready and willing to swallow him whole. What if there was no end, blocked off from hundreds of passings of neglect? What if he was crushed? What if the others weren't there? Nigredo took a breath and cursed. There was no other choice. Getting crushed beats burning alive.
Voices returning. Footsteps, laughter. The breaking of glass, the smell of liquor. The smell of smoke. The sound of something hard and round falling to the floor. The running of feet. Silence.
Time to go.
He closed his eyes and jumped feet first in the the tunnel.

Explosion. Collapse. Dirt and stone falling into one. The tunnel was falling behind him, even as he exited the house's foundation into the true dirt, the only thing keeping him from certain death a few feet of space, the gift of the tunnel's steepness granting it. He gritted his teeth. He was going to make it, he kept telling himself. He had to. The Stone Tunnels, once a sewer system, now an escape route, would save him. It would.
And so, behind him the old, secure, planned life was flattened; destroyed, and in front of him was the new, uncertain, unknown. Everything that he thought made him who he was was gone now. He felt the urge to laugh rise from inside him. He was certainly King now. The King of ruins.

A rock tumbling, hitting something hard. Pain. Involuntary limpness. True blackness.

done typing...yay.
typed into the middle of the night...2 a.m
and there's STILL friggin typos....*sigh*
i guess i'll go try to fix those now...

and so i am in the routine of writing a chapter, typing a chapter, writing, typing...to keep the 'writer's block' or in my terms 'chronic laziness' at bay.

if you see any typos that drive you so absolutely mad that you want to harm me, please feel free to post them as you read.

in writing terms, i am on chapter 18 or so, of Part 2: Strangers in a Familiar Land. I haven't written in a while, so I kinda forgot what I was gonna write. gonk
luckily I have this handy-dandy novel outline I printed up for myself.

oh gawd.
xp