Eternal Drifter

[MysticTrunks01]

<b><i>The Boy at the Tombstone</i></b>The tombstone was already growing worn and weathered.  Two seasons of hot summer and chill winter.  Spring thunderstorm and first frosts of autumn. The little boy wept freely and unashamed as he tears cascaded down his red puffy cheeks.  "I miss you mom.. dad... I miss you so much..." All the words he could muster before free flowing water poured from his eyes to salt the earth. Xannis passed him walking slowly giving only a glance to the weeping boy.  Even now, he can not remember what race he was.  However the face as the boy looked up over the tombstone of his lost family, the wet tracked etched on his face like the sorrowed carving of two vast canyons.  The Tier'Dal ducked his head and pulled his cowl tighter and kept walking. He only got twenty paces, before he turned around. "Why do you cry boy?"  He asked, standing behind the boy as he looked over the wearing graves. The boy needed no urging beyond that simple question, "I'm angry... I want me parents back!  I lost everyone!  I gots no grandparents... no relatives!  It was only us!  US!"  He pounded the ground with a tiny angry fist. Xannis said nothing and only stood there, listening. "They was killed in the war, with the Dark Ones... killed.. They threw themselves on me at the camp!  And they killed them!  They didn't see me under there... and I was so scared, i didn't move... I didn't do anything to save them!  Now... now their gone and I have no body it's.. it's not!..." "It's not fair..."  Xannis finished for him, his face grim.  No, it was not fair.  Many things weren't.  This boy and thousands like him.  Xannis own recent loss, his heart swelled at the thought and grew heavy. The boy turned at that unguarded moment and saw the tell tale signs of violet skin... Dark Elf.  The small body lunging at the sudden embodiment of all his rage and loss.  He slapped and kicked at the taller man. "YOU!  ONE OF YOU!  I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL KILL YOU ALL!!! ALL OF YOU!" It was not the small slaps and punches.  It was not the words.  It was the the place in which they came from.  A place he knew all to well, the darkest pits of hatred and vengence.  A place that once gone to, is next to impossible to climb from. Xannis dropped to his knee's and grabbed the tiny wrists firmly, his cowl slipping to reveal his fading violet eyes as he looked the tear streaked boy in the face. "It's not fair.  And you should be angry.  But there is more to your life than anger.  A power, stronger than any anger."  He spoke hard and fast, but there was something else, and underlying tone that caught the youths ears.  Genuine concern.   He paused. "Sacrifice.  Your parents sacrificed themselves for you.  Their love for you, to go on, even with out them.  To meet a nice girl, to work hard, raise a family of your own.  These are what the blood of their sacrifice can buy.  Only you, can wash away that blood in vengence and destroy the sacrifice they have made for you." They watched one another for a long moment.  Xannis released the boy, stood, and walked away, continuing on his promised journey. Many decades passed. He had not been by this path in all that time and had only occasionally thought of the young lad at the tombstones all that time ago, between his training as a monk and his own travels. There was a gathering of many people.  Little children ran about playing chase while the older and taller group stood in a simi-circle. As before, he only gave a small glance though now, his face was not covered in shame.  "YOU!"  came the shout of an old man.  "YOU I SAY!  STOP THERE!" Xannis did and readied himself for trouble.  Turning he saw the shouting old man hobbling toward him at a great pace, his cane leading the way and twice, swatting at worried younger woman.  "Grandpa slow down you'll hurt yourself!" The old man paid her no mind, "You... Boy the Goddess, it is you... you, haven't changed... at all. I never.. thought... I'd see you again..." Xannis had no idea who this old man was.  Until he began to weep.  The tears flowed.  They washed down his cheeks and with them, the age of time to reveal the crying young boy at a pair of tombstones. "This.. this is my family, all of it... I lost my wife a year ago... but, these.. these are my children... grandchildren  and over their," he pointed to a young lady with a swollen belly that looked away shyly, "That's my great grand child in her belly." The dark elf smiled.  "You.. What you said that day, I listened.  I was going to go... join the military or go become a mercenary.  But that's not what they would have wanted, not for that reason.  And, now I have my family... I'm old but.. i've lived a long happy life.  I... just... Thank you." Xannis only nodded to the old man as his eyes swept over the family easily over a dozen strong already.  He could not take credit of course, would not.  It was not his sacrifice to take credit for but as he looked into those tear worn cheeks he could not say nothing as he turned with a nod and began on the road once more. "You are welcome."

[niko_teen]

fantastic tale as always.

[Zeltaria]

Excellent story <img src="/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" /> Thanks for posting it, I enjoyed reading it!

[MysticTrunks01]

(This is a bit of a different writing style for me so what works and doesn't.  Feedback welcome<img src="http://www.guildportal.com/Faces/face_happy.gif" alt="" border="0" /><i><b>Eyes of Innocence</b></i>"Thank you Unca' Xan, they're beautiful!"  She took in a deep breath of the brightly colored lilies taking in their scent.  He only smiled and nodded as her big brown puppy eyes looked up at him. "You always bring me nice things Unca' Xan,"  she kicked her short legs over the edge of the hay bale that sat on the outer fence of her fathers farm.  He had been coming off an on for months now since he had accidently bumped, very literally into the girl as he traveled the road next to the farm. He had picked up her doll, dusted it off and handed it back.  She had looked at him with out an ounce of fear in those sparkling brown eyes taking the rag doll.  Eye that shown with a light of innocence only a child can produce.   "Thanks Mister!" Just as he was about to go on his way she had a coughing fit.  Violent coughs wracked her small frame.   In his long journey he had seen it before "The Bertoxxuloux Plague" is what they called it.  A disease that seemed to come from the Plague Bringer himself.  There was no known cure. In the road there he sat, cradling her in his arm, brushing the hair from her face and holding a rag up to her mouth until the fit passed.  The rag pulled back with spots of red.  The girl was exhausted.  Carrying her across the vast fields of wheat and corn he brought her home. The mother had passed from the very same plague only a year ago.  The father was all she had left and he spend his time in the fields.  He cared and loved his little girl, but the wasting disease had taken it's toll on the simple man.  First his wife had snuffed out the hope in his heart and now his daughter.  Sadly though, the time he had left with his little girl he was losing to the inside of a bottle at night.   In his big chair he lay passed out, bottle in hand. Since then Xannis had returned often.  Even helping the father with the choirs of the farm.  They had grown to be friends. She had declined steadily since then.  The shine carried in her eyes slowly dulling as the life faded.  Thinkers and philosophers will tell you with cold detachment that death is merely the next stage of life.  That it happens to everyone eventually.  Priests will say that it is a joyous occasion.  To reflect on that which that person brought to your life and thanks to the gods for taking their soul to the heavens.   It was in Xannis philosophy, that none of these men had ever had to watch a small girl die, one day at a time. "I think I likes my Billy Doll the bestest though, he has funny hair!"  She giggle and, sure enough, there it was at her side.  "Well, I'm glad you like him Lyrah, come it's time for supper and you've been outside long enough."  And so it went.  Xannis taking care of the young girl, making her last days as comfortable as possible.  Fresh air was good for her and she loved to go even if she could not run and play. "She doesn't have much time left Xannis,"  the father said in a hushed whisper as the two men sat around the table having a drink, the father already having had several.  "I can't take it... not again.  There has to be something.. anything!" The old monk only sat and listened as he took a sip of the bitter ale.  "You said you've been everywhere Xannis!  There has to be.. something, anything.  I saved for a month to get a healer to come see her.. and for what... for what?!  To tell me what I already knew, that my precious little Lyrah was dying!  There's nothing we can do sir.  It's the Bertoxxulous disease sir.  Enjoy the time you have left sir. BAH!" It was a rant he had heard more times than he could count since coming here.  Xannis only shook his head, "I'm sorry.  The most I can do is go to the nearby village and get something to help for any pain she might suffer.  Other than that, you should just enjoy what time you have my friend.  There is precious little of it left." The next day Xannis set out  on the four day journey to get the medication now that the end was close.  Two days walk there.  Two days walk back. It was four days later he returned and knew instinctively something was wrong.  There were plenty of local beasts to worry about, one in particular kept the local farmers in fear. A rumor of a female vampire.  The heavy mist about the farm and the feel of death hung over the farm like a wet blanket.  Quietly he crept into the house calling quietly, "Lyrah?"  His voice echoed in the dark house sounding off old wood.  A whimpered laugh from the basement. As the old storm door opened with a creak and he stepped in, his heart skipped.  The father rocked his daughters limp body back and forth his face moist with tears.  Not tears of sorrow, but of joy?  He was smiling.  Laughing even.  "I found it.. I found a cure!"  "There is no cure, you kno..."  Lyrah's head lulled and turned.  Exposing two puncture marks in her neck and the red stain of blood upon her lips.  Turned.  "No... god no... what did you do?!" "I saved her!  Priests and healers be damned!  I found a way!  THAT'S WHAT I DID!"  He nodded to a dark corner where a human length pile of ash lay.  "She came.  She came to kill us, but i got her!  I got the best of her!  She was weak and fatigued.  I captured her... made her bite my little Lyrah... then drink!  She saved Xannis, don't you see it!  SAVED!"  His eyes were mad pits in the dim light that poured from a single candle and the dim light of the entrance. Xannis was cold.  The father did not understand.  It was not life he had granted his youngest daughter, but a damned death.  "You have made it worse.  We.. have to stop..." But before he could finish, the tiny lifeless body spasmed and woke in a blood fury.  She lunged for the nearest artery, that of her own fathers.  There was nothing Xannis could do.  The man was as good as dead the second her turning had finished.  She made quick work, the ritual finished.  She stood over the body of what was once her father in another life.  "Unca' Xannis?"  He nodded as a single tear rolled down his cheek as he looked over the monster this innocent child now was.  Covered in the blood of her own father and wearing the once white sun dress her mother had made her.  It was her favorite.  "I don't hurt any more... Papa cured me.  But i'm hungry.... so very hungry."  The once bright brown puppy dog eyes had turned black and dead.  No spark of life... no sign of the Lyrah he sat with for hours on hay bales over the last months. "I'm... so sorry."  She came for him, as he knew she would.  Her hunger dictated no other course.  Vampire now though she was, she was no match for a full grown man, let alone a warrior monk.  Twisting her easily, her back was to his chest and he held the biting snapping thing in a tight hug.  Slowly he fell to his knee's taking her with him in that combination of a hug and restraint.  "I love you, little Lyrah.  I promise not to forget you.  So that you may live forever..." The silver stake did its work.  After a moment he was alone and covered in ash, the one arm now hugging his own chest.  Later that night, the soft orange glow of the burning farm house lit the back of the traveling monk as he once more set out on the road.  None of the surrounding farmer or villagers would know the tragedy that below the innocent girl and her loving father.  "As shame, the poor girl dying in a fire with her father like that"  "Well, she wasn't long for this world anyhow.  Sweet innocent girl like that, it breaks my heart" "Lyrah... The girl who's eyes could light up the world.  Gods bless her in her next big journey"

[niko_teen]

<p>Phenomenal </p>

[Eriol]

And I used to think I could write a decent story.Exceptional.  Truly exceptional.  The first was really good, but the second was just far beyond.

[Masema]

<p>Great story.</p>

[MysticTrunks01]

(Thanks for the kind words.  It's always good to hear people enjoy them. )<i><b>Night Watchman </b></i>"You dark elves, I don't know why the gods even let you breath the same air as the rest of us.  It's disgusting to think what you breath out, even into this wide open night air, might be breathed into my own lungs." The dark elf monk Xannis Sul'Egna only said nothing to this.  What was there to say?  Already now for three nights he had listened to this line or something very close to it.  Hatred can't be argued against.  It only makes it stronger.  Three nights he and the High Elf Kataris Tristian had been placed together as partnered watch eyes for the northern plains.  All three nights, Kataris never stopped talking. Xannis fading violet eyes scanned the dark plains lit only with the flicker of starlight and the faintest fingernail sliver of the moon that shown down upon them. "It's bad enough your a dark elf, but a drifting mercenary too.  I mean, how much lower does a person get?"  The silver blond strands of Kataris' head shook with his head as he stood leaning on the towns hastily build wooden defense wall. The small town was just barely that.  In fact in Xannis opinion it was little more than a large village with studious residents that knew a thing or two about defense.  The town was made up of many races as were most towns during these trouble times in the Age of Cataclysms.  It had been a year since the last major ground shake, but it had already been fifty years into this horrible age of destruction, with no end in sight.  Earthquakes so long the very continents had torn asunder letting the sea fill in the gaps. This town was just one of many scattered across what was once one continent.  Mixed people.  Mixed cultures.  All trying to survive no matter if they were elven, human, halfling, gnome, or in his case, even the hated dark elves.  Though they and the other dark races were shunned and formed villages of their own. It was just this reason he had been hired.  A neighboring village of trolls, ogres, and orcs had decided that the five miles between the two was just to close.  Already they had attacked twice both sides suffering heavily.  The tiny town had sent out word to hire strong mercenaries to help in its defense, even erecting the wooden guard wall he now stood on. Xannis had been passing by a tree when he had seen the posted notice and headed for the village. "I still think you're just a waste of the towns coin.  We don't even need you."  Kataris' light blue eyes scanned the thin but muscular monk, though his night cloak and the starlight covered anything more than a black shadowy outline.  "You don't even look like you could swing a sword." Turning to him finally the dark elves purple lips parted in a smile showing clean white teeth and nodded, "I think you are right Kataris Tristian."  This agreement, only made the high elf more frustrated.  Spitting over the side of the twenty foot wall he did however, stop talking. The ex-Shadow Knight turned monk knew a thing or two about Hate.  It had been his world in service to the armies of the Dark City of Neriak.  Commanding death and destruction against the surface.  Plays for power over former comrades.  Spreading Hate in the name of the Dark Lord Father, Innoruuk. It is a vice that once placed upon the heart gnaws inward like a parasitic worm.  Feeding and growing stronger with ever act.  A parasite that could only be destroyed by shunting pride and preconceptions. Something glinted. Xannis foot kicked out the back of the High Elves knee causing it to give and collapsing him like a sack of wet sand as he cried out indignantly.  "I knew it, you're on their... "  but his words cut short as a whistling arrow passed the place the angry mans head used to be.   "We're under attack!"  He shouted as at the same time the realization his life had just been saved struck home.  "You just..." The dark elf stared into the starry night as the incoming bandits torches lit up on the fields and their charge began, "Come, let us do what we can." It had been a small force, but a small force of ogres and trolls is an army unto itself.  The villagers fired arrows, stone, steel, or fire tipped.  Those with magic ability used what they could.  A small force of villagers broke out into the battle to take them head one, lead by Kataris and Xannis.  Together the fought for this small village, which is now lost in the dusts of history, but at that time the two men became comrades in arms. In the end, the bandits retreated with what number they had left.  The villagers suffered many injuries.  As the two men made their way across the battle field, checking for wounded villagers and finishing off any faking bandits with a final stroke to the neck.  They did their work in silence surrounded by death.  It happened quickly.  The whistle of an arrow.  A shout.  The dark elf feeling himself pushed roughly down and out of the way.  Then the hot spray of red blood as an arrow sank deep into the heart of Kataris Tristian.  One troll had remained alive that they had not yet gotten too.  With his dying strength he had fired an arrow straight and true at Xannis, but his troll body had given out before the arrow even found it's unintended target. Xannis knelt close to the paling high elf.  The wound was fatal and had pierced the heart.  There was only the time left that his bodies current flow of blood allowed.  "Why... You shouldn't have ...." Coughing Kataris replied with blood stained lips, "You saved me....  One does not watch... a comrade die when he owes them his life.  Your people are murderous [Removed for Content], Xannis Sul'Egna.... but you... "  He never finished his last words.  The sun finally rose upon the battlefield and a new day had risen.  "Go, Kataris Tristian.  Go with out hate beyond the veil."

[Eriol]

I like your setting being the middle of the time in which few stories are told, and just about anything is possible.  Definitely fertile ground for a storyteller.Excellent, just like the rest of your short stories here.

[MysticTrunks01]

I agree with that a lot.  One of my favorite SOE stories was from the dwarf that had saved a little girl during the Rending and met her years later in a bar.  Something about that one always struck home with my.  And recently the stories from the RPG Lost Odyssey which are absolutely amazing inspired me to do these stories given my character is also very old and lived through much.Anyhoo, glad you enjoy ^^ 

[niko_teen]

<p>I must say that I am enjoying your tales very much as well. I do however have to keep telling myself to not follow in your footsteps and write a group of short stories. I've got my epic tale to finish first. Once that is completed I'll allow myself to go back and write short stories to fill in the gaps that I intentionally left in teh shattering. </p><p>So keep at it please. You and Ekuthh have inspiried my to knock out another post on my tale after reading this one.</p>

[Jakimo]

<span style="font-size: x-small;font-family: book antiqua,palatino;">Bravo, Xannis.  These three stories are among the best short stories I've ever read.  <i>Eyes of Innosence</i>  brought tears to my eyes.  Great work.</span>

[MysticTrunks01]

(Thanks all for the very very kind words.  It is the ultimate in compliments to hear it from you all)<u><b><i></i>Hope Springs...</b></u> The free city of Qeynos lay half in ruin. Its once polished marble stair ways were cracked and splintered as if a gods hammer had struck them from below.  Entire blocks of houses lay in rubbled ruin with only a few jutting walls jutting into the sky like broken teeth.  Even the towering central spire of the Royal Castle lay draped half into the moat like on old discarded sock, itself sheared clean of it's supports leaving only a hollow stone tube attached to the once magnificent and awe inspiring castle. The sounds of hammers cracking, the clank and clatter of chisels, the grind of saws on wood, and shouts of a broken hearted people were the cities chorus. The Rending. It had gone on for nearly fifty years.  It had devastated more than the world though.  Just as the grounds shook the foundations of crumbling buildings, so to did it shake that of the spirit of men and women. Xannis sat under the shade of a tree watching the city try to rebuild once again.  Always they did.  Each time, with out notice, the earth would shake sooner or later and undo it all, and each time, they would rebuild.  He himself though was helping in this effort as best he could.  His back ached with the pain of lifting rocks into carts and wheel barrows.  Taking a short break now to get water and cool down after five hours of straight labor and more to come before the sun set again. A shrill of laughter broke the sounds of construction, followed by hurried shout, "MISTER WATCH OU-!"   Something inflated and round pinged off the Tier'Dal monks head and landed in his lap.  It was a ball.  Looking in the direction the projectile came from where six children of various ages none below their sixth season and likely none above their thirteenth.  They kicked up dust as they came to sudden stop seeing the dark elf they had just assaulted with a stray kick. "W-w-w-we're sorry, Mister, Gistin kicked it...,"  A young human boy hiding in the back, bowed his head and ducked behind one of the older children as if for protection.  The monk smirked and shook his head, tossing the one foot diameter ball back to the children with a casual over head toss.  "Apology accepted, go back to your play."  They wasted little time. That was the way of disasters though.  Between the cry of mothers for lost husbands.  The glowers of husbands for lost wives.  Or the wail of both for lost children, things went forward.  With that momentum, there was always hope. That was what he saw.  Laying just below the expressions of each and ever man and women working.  In the piles of rubble that were once a Lords house as he now wore torn and tattered cover-alls to sift through what remained of his fortune.  Once pampered and perfumed ladies wearing wool and cotton white dresses in place of lace and silk beside them.  Farmers and merchants, fixing their shop, even as they sold goods.  Royal guards, rebuilding beside the lowest of peasants.  All upon their faces.  Forgotten titles and the hope that this was the final time they'd have to rebuild. But it was not to be this day. It started with out notice, the ground heaved.  All were as living domino's.  One moment up on their feet, the next falling flat.  People knocked from ladders and screams of fear rang as they fell with flailing arms. The world shook. Chaos ensued for forty-five long seconds.   Xannis picked himself up with a dazed expression as others just as him went to their staggering feet.  The cries of children rang distantly.  Muffled. "BY THE CROWN OF BAYLE!  THE CHILDREN!" shouted an old man causing many with in hearing to look. Behind him, where only moments ago he had seen those children playing, lay a pile that was only a minute ago a two story building.  With in that dust covered wreck came the cries.  Muffled and distant. In the chaos of fear, people moved with purpose.  Lines and daisy chains formed to remove large rocks up and away.  Massive beams brought by large muscles Halasians and hydrolic lifts by tinkering gnomes.  These people would not be defeated.  Minutes turned to hours.  One scared and battered child after another pulled from shattered rocks and mortar. Wrapped in blankets and the kisses of frightened mothers and fathers they children were free.   Wiping his forehead with a bandaged arm willowy human of advanced years proclaimed as he sad next to the stranger he had been handing rocks too, "A good day this... the Gods surely smile down upon us." Amazed to hear such a pronouncement after once more having their work shattered Xannis looked at him quizically, causing the old man to laugh like a merry bell.  "I know, I know.   But we take life as it comes dark elf.  Sure today we got thrown down again by our silent gods or whatever damned thing is causing these catastrophes, but look at that."  He said, nodding to the happily reunited families.  "Bet coins to corn, everyone here today will never take for granted what the have.  Even if it's just each other."  The old man clapped the monk who was easily ten plus times his age and stood using his shoulder as leverage.  "Keep that in mind son... I'm goin' home to my family.  You have a good one."

[niko_teen]

<p>Dang you this is posted too late at night. I only logged in to make sure no one was posting on my storylines. But yeah I'll be reading in the morning and droppgin some real feedback</p>

[niko_teen]

<p>Short in comparison to you earlier tales but very concise and enjoyable none the less.</p><p>I do however like the fact the xanis is tolerated if barely even though he cruises around the "good" areas</p>

[MysticTrunks01]

Yes.  Going with the theme that actions speak louder than words for the most part with him. I have many idea's still and I'm glad you enjoy them <img src="/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" /> 

[Alycs]

Just amazing stories.  Thank you.

[MysticTrunks01]

<span><b><i><u>The Lonely Tailor</u></i></b></span>The hours the young woman worked were long.   For hours straight she would work in the tiny shop she kept.  It was not much, little more than a one room home and workshop rolled into one.  Stacks of fabric from floor to ceiling, bone and metal needles stabbed haphazardly into balls of fabric.  A bed that folded up into the wall and a small stove for cooking with an outhouse behind the tiny building.She worked for everything she had, which was next to nothing.  Barely she scraped by, many days going hungry, not from the long hours and constant work, but for the lack of food.  Her callous fingers moved methodically over fabric, needle, and thread.   Thin faced and hollow cheeks, flat brown hair pulled up in a loose bun upon her head."I'm glad you came back, Sir.  I don't get many repeat customers here, as I'm sure you guessed."The dark elf monk nodded a bit.  This tiny village was far off the beaten path and main routes of travel.  He himself had only stumbled on it by accident over a year and a half ago.  Dull violet eyes noticing the path to it just barely off the main path, curiosity leading his feet.  It was little more than a collection of ragged old houses built inside a long forgotten towns ruins, though he did remember the town that laid here before.  It had burned to the ground in great fire some two hundred years ago, before the Rending shook apart the world.  The destruction was so much that the towns folk just moved on.  Though the sturdier left overs of the stone structures had survived the ravages of time to be rebuilt into this small village of a hundred or so people."I'm sorry it's taking so long,"  she added with a shy voice.   Her hands rubbed the fabric of his pants and tunic, dusty from the road and torn in many places from small snags, and a few blades."You must have seen so much.  You travel a lot don't you?"Xannis nodded, "Yes I do.""I've never left the village myself.  I can't afford too."  Hear voice was sad, drawn.  As though she had done a life times living in her short years.She was alone.Her family had died in the great fires that sparked suddenly with the terrible thunder storms that began with out notice since the earth shook and volcano's blew their molten core into the air.  Some said it was the gods anger, but the monk new it to be from the amount of ash and debris interrupting the patterns and gathering of that mysterious electricity.One such storm had struck their family home while she and her brother were out.  They burned alive.  Not two years later, her brother joined a militia in a neighboring town.  He wanted to be a hero.  For his trouble, he was stabbed in the streets of the bigger township, robbed and left for dead.   Leaving his sister alone in the world."I'd love to see it though.  One day."  She sighed.  He said nothing but nodded.Many times over the years he came to her and her alone for his clothing.  Sometimes to have it repaired, others to buy new when they could not be.  Her work was of a quality rivaling that of any seams master in Qeynos or Freeport.  She could make gowns that would cause a Queen to forget her station and lunge at it's wearer in envy and want.  Suits that any Lord would pay twenty times what she asked them for.  Finery so detailed that the eyes could look it over for an hour, and always find a new pattern and nuance.  He had asked her, why she charged so little."I'm not that good, I've never been good at much of anything really, this is just the best I have.  I can't over charge, I barely make it as it is."In truth, it was likely this under pricing that kept her poor.  People equated the cheap prices, with bad worksmanship.  So, poor and alone she stayed.  With only the small village and a hand full of outsiders as customers.One visit in particular, she had seemed defeated of soul.  It had been six months since he last saw her and while she was always reserved and quiet, even when he told her the stories of some of his travels, she was more so this day than any before.  "I don't have anything, Xannis.  Nothing.  What is the point?"He frowned slightly, not sure what to say.  Her fingers moves slower than usual, the heart not into the task.  "I've no family... I've no friends.  I stay here, day and night."There was a look in her eyes.  Empty.  Void of any care, of any want or need.  Completely empty of faith.  "The gods abandon us.  My family taken from me.  There is no point."It is a scary thing to see in the eyes of a young woman, a lack of soul.  Xannis heart felt for her, but nothing that came to mind seemed right.   "When things are at the bottom.  The point... is to have faith that things can change for the better"She looked up at him and nodded smiling emptily as she handed back his pants.  He thanked her, paid her handsomely as he always did, well over her asking price.   He paused before he turned to resume his wanderings.  Looking over this small human girl in her mid twenties going on forty.  Leaning in, he hugged her.  It was awkward, her body stiffening.  Slowly, she relaxed, returning it softly.  They pulled away at the same time.  Nodding to her, he turned.  It was the last he'd see of her.Only three months passed before he found himself returning.  His clothes were not damaged or disheveled.  In fact, they had held up better this time than any time before.  Her best work ever.  Something, however, whispered to him that it was time to go back.   Entering the village he got the usual looks of distrust and outright hatred from some of the towns folks toward his dark purple skin.  In some though... there was something else.  Reaching the tailors hut he knocked on the door.  There was no answer.  Knocking again, he slowly opened the door.  Empty.  Not a thing was left as it should have been.  Xannis stood confused as the bright sun outside highlighted his muscled frame in the darkness of the door.  She had done it then.  She went to see the world.A throat cleared next to him.  It was the neighbor, an old man.  He held out a sealed envelope with his name written upon it in a feminine hand.  "She left this for you," he said in a shaking graveled voice.  "We cleaned up her place... past everything out to the village, after she left.  But this was left with a note for you to be given when you came back."Xannis took the note, nodding his thanks to the old man as he stood there, as if waiting for something.  Carefully he opened the letter and read,"<i>Dear Xannis,Thank you.  Thank you for being there.  I wish I could have told you in person.  Alas, I have not the courage.  There is no point.  Nothing left for me.  I have no family.  I have not a friend.  There is not a god in the sky, nor a skill in my body.  No point.  I can no longer go on like this.  Thank you for the hug.  It was the first I had had one since my brother left for battles in the far town.  I wish to feel his hug again.  My mothers, my fathers touch.   I miss them so much.  I am going to go see them.  I'm Sorry,Tallia the Tailor"</i>Xannis blinked, he looked over the letter to the old man.  A silver tear in his eye.   "I found her.  A month ago.  She had hanged herself.  She was a good girl.   We.. we should have done more.  We just never thought..."  His voice cracked and he choked off.  Slowly he turned unable to continue and walked away, leaving Xannis standing in the empty doorway holding a letter.People find their reasons to live in many things.  Family, friends, or Gods.  Faith.  Even those that do not have faith in those three, have faith in themselves.  It allows them to continue, to carry on.  Faith lets people move onward, knowing their family, or god, or their own ability, will see them through.  When a person loses that though, loses that ability to see beyond the dark horizon to the possible light.  Can not see in the black of their despair and misery.  When they have no mark to leave.  No point to make.  Their purpose destroyed.  They turn to the end.  Perhaps the greatest sadness in all the world, is the loss of faith in anything at all.With careful hands as if the letter was an ancient scroll of great power, he slipped it back into it's envelope and placed it away.  He would keep her alive.  And he would have faith, that she was with her family again, beyond the veil and in a happier place.

[Eriol]

That was scary good.  That last section... I could feel the pain and emptiness./cry

[Ekuthh]

<p><span style="font-size: small;font-family: Times New Roman;">*speechless*</span></p><p><span style="font-size: small;font-family: Times New Roman;">YOU, sir, have a talent.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: small;font-family: Times New Roman;">Bravo.</span></p>

[Mourti]

I agree. I have enjoyed most of your postings but this went beyond just a story (nothing wrong with a good simple story though: ) ). This was far more philosophical and poetic. Bravo, and keep up the excellent work.

[Jakimo]

<p><span style="font-size: small;font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>The Lonely Tailor </i>takes the short story format far above and beyond what I ever believed possible.  I actually read the story the day after you posted, but it has taken till today for me to be able to comment.  I have been diagnosed as being chronically deppressed, and while I'm doing well now, with treatment, those last few paragraphs absolutely nailed the hell that deppression puts people through.  A very remarkable story, thank you.</span></p>

[MysticTrunks01]

Thanks folks <img src="/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" />  I mean it sincerely and am flattered you guys take the time to read them.Jakimo, I'm glad you're doing good and I hope things stay well for you. 

[niko_teen]

<p>Very nice. Not my favorite subject but you did a good job of portraying the emotions.</p>

[MysticTrunks01]

<u><b><i>And The Skies Fell... </i></b></u>It happened on a cloudless night. The night air was chill in the gentle breezes the rustled the grasses of what was once the Plains of Karana.   Peoples memories where short though, and with the destruction of the Rending and the only remaining piece of the once expansive Karana's had been renamed the Thundering Steppes.   The long rolling thunderstorms of long ago still blew through these open plains and the people not having heard from their god Karana, or any other, in centuries had abandoned the old name for the new. It was bright and that made the Dark Elf monks job of shepherd all the easier with the light of the old moon Drinal high above glowing as brightly as ever.  A casual scratch of his long elven ear as he leaned against the staff and gazed up at that sky.  It was almost surreal he mused.  The clarity was unlike anything he could remember in his over long life.  Having seen nearly a thousand years now of days and nights, gods, almost a thousand years?   None he could remember in that time was as clear as this.   Such matters were not of import though and one of his flock of bawing sheep was taking it's leave having spotted some apparently tasty dandy lions away from it's friends. With a sigh and a shrug he moved looking ahead to the sheep to keep it in line. Suddenly he paused.  He felt as though he had blinked and suddenly things did not look right.  That odd feeling when something that is everyday is suddenly changed.  He had not blinked.  There was nothing amiss either, but something was not right.  Sheep mulled, they became restless, agitated.  They bumped and pushed one another.  One rolled and that's when he noticed it.  It rolled with not one dim shadow but two. Pale violet eyes flicked to the sky in an instant.  There high above she shimmered out of the Veil.  Luclin. "Impossible," escaped his lips in utter confusion. The Veil covered the long hidden moon.  Said to have been placed in the sky to hide the goddess most precious jewel from the eyes of mortals.   But long ago he had seen this veiled moon.  Upon the planes, the one of Sky.  His eyes would not move from that shimmering globe floating with utter serenity in the black star dotted sky.  Shades of green and the flecks of orange where it had always seemed twilight.  A patch of darkest gray, The Gray, where the moon itself was open to space and the evil Shissar of old Kunark had lived. "It is her, I can't believe it.   Why now though? Why..," he broke off.  The large marble of a moon shimmered again.  No, didn't shimmer as if looked through a wave of heat, it shuttered.  A violet shaking to the moons very core.  "No..." It was instinct that made him look away when the arc danced across the surface like spidered brittle hand.  Turning his eyes to the ground he covered the top of his face with an arm. The world went to soundless white. It held for only seconds that drug out forever. Looking up once again, his chest grew heavy.  Luclin floated in jagged pieces.  A field of mountain sized rock slowly spreading outward along her rotational plane, thrown by the forces of inertia. It was oddly beautiful in it's death.  Never in his life would he expect to see a planet of the heavens die.  That is exactly what this had been. A horrible realization came then, as he stared into the chill night, his flock scattering to the four corners.  The pieces of that heavenly body, were moving in all directions.  Directly for Norrath. "It's starting again!"  Rage and anger built with in him and he threw the staff at the sky at the moon as though it would stop the pieces that even now hurtled to way last to the recovering world.  "[Removed for Content] YOU!  They've been through enough already!  Let them live their lives!   They live day to day with out their gods to guide them!  They hold faith in you though you give them nothing but suffering and chaos!  Their souls are tired, their hands raw from work!  CURSE ALL THE GODS!" Almost as if answering, the air high above flashed as the shock wave struck the upper atmosphere.  The magnetosphere compressed and an aurora of blazing colors burned across the sky and he could almost believe it was the angered gods reply.  The compression sent a shock through the air and the ground rumbled.   Then all was once more silent only the spinning broken globe high above. His jaw set.  His eyes burned with angry tears.  His heart went cold with defiance.  "So is your answer.   But we will beat you.  And we will go on.  With, or with out you.  We challenged you before and we will challenge you again." Turning he ran, leaving the flock behind.  He had to warn as many people before the sky burned with rocks and the shattered moon, hammered down up its sister Norrath.

[Jakimo]

<span style="font-size: x-small;font-family: tahoma,arial,helvetica,sans-serif;">Once again, a marvelous story.  I wish I had even a small portion of the talent you possess.  Thank you, sir.</span>

[Alycs]

<p><span style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;">I swear, your writing tempts me to play on AB as opposed to Venekor!  *shakes head* Just ... amazing!</span></p>

[MysticTrunks01]

<b><i>The Seas Boiled </i></b>The only constant on the rocky sea where two things.  The constant smell of fish in all staged, alive to dead, and seagulls following along side the stout crab fishing boat that was braving the turbulent waters fifty miles off the coast. It was manned by would could only be considered the bravest men at sea or the most insane.  Ropes and pulley's were strung about the ships rigging for both sails and fishing alike.  A single mess placed step into a looped rope that could go taunt at any moment as the crap pots were flung over the side, and a man would meet his end upon the ocean floor under the cold crushing weight of untold pressure. The Misty Dream and her crew.  Six regulars counting the shouting captain from the wheel house and one greenhorn, a Tier'Dal monk they had picked up at the harbor when the seventh regular, of all things, survived the open sea, but broke his ankle getting off the boat.  That had been two months ago. A year ago, the moon of Luclin had shattered throwing itself at the world like some giant vicious child throwing stones at an ant hill.  Craters marked the surface above, and below.   Where thousands of tones of Luclin's surface and core had slammed into the oceans, water to this day still boiled in places.  The destruction was uncountable to the ecosystems below the surface.  All the fishermen knew was that for weeks after, dead sea life had washed to the shore daily.  The smell was terrible with many fishing villages, already used to the marine smells of rotting flesh, were abandoned. Now, a year passed, Xannis found himself taken aboard.  He had not been their first choice, or second, or likely even third.  He had something the others didn't though.  A willingness to brave the angry sea and knowledge of the Luclin moon.   He had studied many of the great fragments once they cooled.  The captain had deemed that worth while and taken him. His back ached, his muscles screamed as one cage like fishing pot was pushed over board after the other.  Each square cage made just so that crabs could get into the bait inside, but not get out again until the pot was hauled to the boat, and emptied over it's precious cargo.  Though, in the year since the Shattering, that cargo had become only more precious and all the more rare. The large schools of crab that skittered about the ocean had almost vanished.  Indeed, most crab vessels had no longer been able to pay for loyal crews and forced into other work, the boat sold or left docked as a new house boat. The captain of the Misty Dream, however, was a man made of stubborn and stone. "Two months it's been Dark Elf, and you've been about as much luck as any other we've taken aboard.  PAH!"  He shouted from his wheel house, a burning cigar clenched in his teeth.  Some how he always managed to shout, but never loosen that grip on the cigar.   Xannis with two others was heaving a pot from the ocean floor.  The giant cage's rope attacked to a crane that two men turned a crank to haul up while the other used a long rope and hook.  He would fling it out into the ocean between two brightly painted sheep bladders inflated with air to mark the pots resting place on oceans dark floor. The boat sails half full of wind pushed the boat along creating small white cresting wives off her bow.  One crank at a time, the pot came up above sea level.  Empty, save the bait and one angry looking sea turtle. The ship worked no matter the day, large torches put up at night so they could work in the dark.   In the down time, they would talk and eat and rest. The days passed like the ones before him, long hours and very short breaks and very few crab.  Still the angry skipper pushed on. "Hell or high water, I'll not be giving up my lifes work so easily bucko, no siree.  Old Captain Finnagin will die upon the sea and die fishin'!" It was an amazing sight to see.  The pinch faced dark haired old sea salt, in his wheel house, a scowl on his face and that cigar clenched in his teeth.   He would never give up.   Gods rain down the very heavens upon him and he continued.  Where other men fall and never rise again, this old Captain Finnagin would curse the gods with one hand and rub a lucky rabbits foot in the other.  Indeed, Xannis had never seen a thing like it in his near thousand years of life. Trained as a monk for centuries in the worst conditions by the toughest of Masters.  Seeing the people of the world over come the Age of Catastrophe.  He had thought he had seen the the best in men, and the worst a spirit could suffer, before it was crushed.  That was before he met this Captain of the Misty Dream.  The man was all that was left of a family of fishermen in what was once a coastal fleet of ships.  They had been out fishing for crab the night a year ago, when Luclin exploded.   "The sky flashed in anger as the moon appeared all broken and glowin' like.   Hours later, the seas grew angry.   It doesn't take much to sink a boat, no sir, not much at all.  And that night the sea and heavens threw it all at us.   Lost half we did to the sea.  The others limped back to shore.   Gave up right then and there they did.  Cowards one and all!   I patched up me boat, took on me crew of those willing and set sail the next day.   Just 'cause the sea be given up on me, don't mean I gave up on the sea!" And so, he had kept on.  A perseverance and unbending.  It was only a stroke of luck, but some say at sea, luck is as good as knowing, that found them finally.   A gale wind had blown them off course with all their pots on board.   A storm that made the old boat creak and snap as the wind and sea pounded her once more like that night a year ago.   When she came out the other side, she was in a place of calm sea.   Miles off course, it took some time for the captain to relocate their position.   Taking the calm sea and clearing blue sky behind the angry black clouds, they set to work. From the sea burst forth crab in number untold.   Never in thirty years of fishing had the captain nor any of his men found a bounty such as this.  It took for men to the crane just to haul it up the cages near to bursting.   What was once grueling back breaking work, seemed like the sun shining on a blind mans now seeing eyes for the first time.  They ate well after that, and when they pulled into port all came away with more money than they had imagined possible, each crew member getting their share of the cut.   As the fishermen kissed long waiting wives and smothered smiling children shouting, "Papa! Papa!" all there lives had changed because they had believed in a man's vision to never give up.   That when it was the worst it could possibly get they followed a man that did not want for change in the world, but sought it.  Made it happen.   A man that knew how it could be and should be and that the bounty lay there, if only one was patient and strong enough to take it in both his hands.   That man had been Captain Finnagin, of the Misty Dream.   For those people aboard his vessel, that perseverance had paid off.

[Eriol]

Nice man, though I think you've probably been watching a little too much of "Deadliest Catch" IMO.  <img src="/smilies/8a80c6485cd926be453217d59a84a888.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" />  Or maybe influenced by <a href="http://www.pvponline.com/2008/04/09/on-a-steel-horse-they-ride/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">PvP a bit</a>?Either way your writing is NOT suffering.  Still top-notch.

[Alycs]

<p>Either way, it was awesome.</p><p>And on a different note...I now have a char on AB.  Ok.  It's awesome.  *nods*  </p>

[MysticTrunks01]

Yes to the first, i love that show.   I actually don't read PvP but that was funny!It's amazing to me that people are even able to do that with the engines and pulls we have now, i can't imagine the way they used to do it like you hear some of these crab fisherman talk about their dads and grand dads.   So yes, a homage to humans doing anything they set their mind on <img src="/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" />Thanks for the kind words and welcome to AB Alycs, as Stan Lee says, "I hope you survive the experience" :p

[Alycs]

<cite>Xannis@Antonia Bayle wrote:</cite><blockquote>Yes to the first, i love that show.   I actually don't read PvP but that was funny!It's amazing to me that people are even able to do that with the engines and pulls we have now, i can't imagine the way they used to do it like you hear some of these crab fisherman talk about their dads and grand dads.   So yes, a homage to humans doing anything they set their mind on <img src="/eq2/images/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY<img src="/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" />" width="15" height="15" />Thanks for the kind words and welcome to AB Alycs, as Stan Lee says, "I hope you survive the experience" :p</blockquote>*laughs* Actually...it's more along the lines of ... can AB survive the experience?  So far, it looks like my poor Teir'Dal has already made an enemy ... or at least someone who really doesn't like her. lol  All in all, I'm having a blast!  I find I end up rping more in a day ... and RANDOM stuff ... than I do in a week on poor Vene.  *sighs* There are a few things I miss from PvP ... but ... not much.  Oh, if you see her ... Imnishialna is me.

[MysticTrunks01]

*nodnod*  I'll keep an eye out for her <img src="/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" />

[Shebara]

Lovely stories, as always. I enjoy reading through them before I go off and blow my poor tonga up on pvp.. or try to hack off my Tier'Dal's cousin's head <img src="/eq2/images/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY<img src="/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" />" width="15" height="15" />  *Drexia aims her bow at Imni*

[Zeltaria]

<p>It's been many long months since I've been able to read anything on the Traveler's forums. </p><p>Xannis, your stories are wonderful.  Thank you so much for sharing them! <img src="/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" /></p>

[MysticTrunks01]

<p><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><em><strong>Honey Colored Eyes...</strong></em></span> "It's such a beautiful day," Verona Sai said in her soft cottony voice, her head tilted back just a little to take in the warmth of the sun on the brisk fall day.  Hands clasped together at the nape of her back, fingers twined into a tight ball.  The thin fabric of the sundress flowed around her form snuggly with a pattern of sun lillies.   The light slipping through outlined her form darkly around a halo of rays that passed through the simple dress.  Raven hair with long girls bounced as she giggled at the man eyeing her with a wry smirk.  She was a vision. Tarlon Pindor lay in the browning grass and fallen orange and red leaves, back against the sturdy oak a few paces away.  His rugged face was squared with just a touch of baby fat on his cheeks, which he tried to hide with unshaved stubble, giving him the look more of a dashing roque than a farmhands son.   A muscled built pulled his tunic, unlaced, tight across his chest and one well defined arm hung lazily over his knee pulled in close.   "Not half as beautiful as what I'm viewing."  His voice was deep with out being booming and had a gentle kindness to it. Verona's cheeks went crimson as she saw the look in his eyes and she covered her mouth as she bit her lips.  "Oh stop it, you... you... YOU!"  Her nose scrunched between her eyes and she fussed and huffed.  "Oh you are simply impossible!"  Hands smoothed out wrinkles on her dress that did not exactly exist, but that did little to stop her from letting it occupy herself.  He stood slowly to his feet and emptied the space between them in a handful of steps.  The wind catching his brown ear length hair as it blew into his hazel eyes.  A crooked finger brought her eyes the color of honey to his.  Eyes so big and deep above her soft pale cheeks, he though himself able to swim in them, never finding one edge to the other.   Her blush only deepened further.  "I want you to remember this day, Verona.   A day that will hold in your memory for all time...."  He reached into his pocket and before he even had fished out the little package, her eyes brimmed with tears. "You are everything to me.   Everything.   And I want nothing more than to spend my life with you, not matter how long or short it is."   Taking her hand in his, he went to bent knee.  The other hand bringing out a small box that opened with a flip of his thumb.   A modest ring of gold, inlayed with intertwining leaves and vines in it's center rest in side, "Marry me, Verona.  Make me complete." There was no answer, at least not in words.   One moment it was her honey eyes, the next, it was the sky as she barreled on him in a great hug driving his back to the ground and smothering his face with kisses. As is the way of the world though, a war was brewing in a distant land.  A final battle to end all battles they old people said.  The very survival of all things was said to rest in it's balance.   The Rallosian army was on the march.   An unstoppable force, a juggernaut that laid waste to the lands to the south of the tiny farm town.   The life time, as it turned out, was only three months.  The army of Freeport came to call.  All able bodied men were needed.  Tarlon kissed his wife.  A kiss poets write entire plays about, just to get to that single moment of purest love and happiness, as well as saddest good-bye and deepest longing.  "You becareful my husband... don't.. don't take any risks, you don't have too."  Honey eyes filled with water but held their ground by strength of will and determination to be strong for this man she loved so much.  Verona leaned into his strong hand with her cheek as callous fingers pulled back her hair to her ear. "I will come back to you... We will win this war, and return.  Safe.  I fight for you, Verona... and all our village."  Leather armor adorned his muscled frame, a sword strapped to hip that didn't look comfortable with its owner.   The men of the village were filling out of town to join the army on its way to Freeport in the hopes of out flanking the massive army allied against her walls.  "I will think of you every day," he said with a last kiss before mounting his brown bay horse. "And I you."  With parting words, he pulled the reigns and the horse around, leaving behind all he knew. It was over a month before word began to trickle in.  The War was won.  Victory for the allies of Qeynos and Freeport.   The allied power of the human cities with it's allies in Felwithe and Kelethin and the battle hardened dwarves of Kaladim finally destroyed the Rallosian army with the help of histories greatest mystery, the Green Mist.  The tolls were heavy though, for all nations.  A week later, the first injured villager returned.   A slow trickle of wounded and healthy men came back to what they had left.  Once soft and simple eyes, hardened from war. Everyday Verona waited on the outskirts of the village.  Eyes looking to the southeast with the rising of the sun.   For a month, she did this.  The first weeks trickle of men slowed.  Each day, fewer and fewer returned.  It wasn't until the last week, when none did.  She lost hope. She would craddle her stomach and rock herself in the chair until sleep and exhaustion took her into its sweet release. Until one day a man entered the village wrapped head to toe in a brown cloak with many holes tearing the cloth.  The dust of leagues stained the cloak as he made his way through the village.  Eventually, finding his way to the home of Verona Sai Pindor.  The wrap of a knuckle on the strong wooden door to their tiny home.   Verona's eyes going wide as she opened it onto the figure in the cloak, her heart skipping as that ember of hope burst into a raging fire that lept into her throat, choking her voice.  But the voice, the voice was not his, "Verona Sai Pindor?" Crestfallen, she nodded dimly, "Y... Yes, that is me."  She gasped again as he removed the draw hat, holding it before his chest, almost shyly.   Violet skin was covered by wispy locks of white gray hair before bright purple eyes.  A Tier'Dal.   She began to scream but he raised his arms and spoke in a hurried rush, "Please no.. I'm not here to hurt you... I fought with your husband."  Perhaps it was the shock of his tone, or the sincere and pleading look in his eyes.   Even the silly way he rung his straw hat in two purple hands.  Whatever it was, he scream came out only as a squeek before she gained control.  Then the words hit her. "You...?" Was all she could say.  He nodded as she opened the door to let him in and he stepped in only enough for her to close it behind him, "Yes.   I was with the Ashen Order during the Battle of Defiance.  Your... Tarlon, was assigned with my unit as helper in getting supplies to the troops as needed.  He spoke of you everyday.   You are exactly how he said.  I made him a promise,"  he reached into his cloak, removing an envelope.  "I'm sorry, I couldn't get here sooner, but.... I'm afraid Tarlon was killed." The Tier'Dal only just managed to guide her to the nearest chair before her legs gave out.   She had already known.   Her heart, had told her when he did not return.  The words struck her like a hammer all the same.  "Wh.. wha...?"  Honey eyes shed tears down her pale cheek. "He asked me, should anything happen, that I deliver his last words to you... and tell you what happened.  He, became my friend, and I am honor bound to do my friends last wish."  Numbly, she took the letter from his hand.   Clumsy fingers unfolding the page with in. <em>"Dearest Verona, I am sorry I could not keep my promise to you.  Know that I love you and never anything but you.   I think back to that day in the meadow that I proposed to you.  You are so beautiful.  You almost seemed to glow with inner light.  My only regret, is that I will not be there to hold my child.   I am sorry, my love.   Yours in Eternity, Tarlon Pindor" </em>Tears flowed freely from her eyes as her free hand rubbed her swollen belly.   Reading the letter three more times, she finally looked up at her lost husbands friend.  "What... is your name?" "Xannis Sul'Egna," he replied with a quiet voice that held a strength that belied the kind expression. Years passed. Verona Sai Pindor never remarried, though with her beauty she had many attempts.   She live out her life, raising her only son to be a proud and strong boy.   The Tier'Dal monk visited her and young Tarlon Jr. every few years.   It was always a happy occassion for both family and friend.   Stories of their friend and fathers brave deeds during the war and a wifes memory of the gentle farm boy, that had the hands of a farmer and the smile of a rogue.</p>

[Alycs]

<p>~wipes eyes, blows nose~</p><p>Very well written and damnit for making me cry as well as thank you.</p>

[MysticTrunks01]

<p>Thanks Alycs <img src="/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" /></p><p>It was inspired by Over the Rhines "Snow Angel"  Which is a great christmas album in itself.  I can't find a video of the song so, lyrics will have to do i suppose.</p><p><strong>Lyrics to Snow Angel</strong> : Once upon a winter It seems so long ago My one and only love and I Fell down upon the snow And as the dusk was falling From our gray and goose down sky We heard the old cathedral bells Ring out our lullaby Snow angel, snow angel Someday I’m gonna fly This cold and broken heart of mine Will one day wave goodbye Goodbye to this cruel wicked world And all the tears I’ve cried Snow angel, snow angel I’ll meet you in the sky The rumors of a distant war Called my true love’s name He packed his leather suitcase And spoke no word of blame We walked awhile together I tried to hide my fear He told me not to be afraid And whispered in my ear Snow angel, snow angel Someday I’m gonna fly This cold and broken heart of mine Will one day wave goodbye Goodbye to this cruel wicked world And all the tears I’ve cried Snow angel, snow angel I’ll meet you in the sky They brought my love home from the war In a cart pulled by white mules The Christmas bells rang out that day Oblivious as fools And as the snow began to fall I kissed his frozen face They told me in his woolen coat His last few words were placed Snow angel, snow angel Someday I’m gonna fly This cold and broken heart of mine Will one day wave goodbye Goodbye to this cruel wicked world And all the tears I’ve cried Snow angel, snow angel I’ll meet you in the sky</p>

[Eriol]

<p>You brought to mind the day that I proposed to my Love.  That alone makes this story wonderful.  Great job as always.</p>

[MysticTrunks01]

<p ><strong><em><span style="text-decoration: underline;">Hates Basement</span></em></strong></p> <p > </p> <p >I awoke from darkness to darkness.</p> <p > </p> <p >My senses returned slowly, reluctantly.<span>   </span>The taste of warm copper was first.<span>  </span>Followed by the pulsing of my beating heart in a swollen lip and as the rhythmic thumping grew faster, so did the pain.<span>  </span>The sensation of pain spread from that busted lip to the back of my head, down my neck and back to my limbs.<span>  </span>Bruises, dozens of them about the size of a fist.<span>  </span><span> </span></p> <p > </p> <p >Lastly to return was sound, that of voices.<span>  </span>They were angry mutters kept to a low hurried hush.<span>  </span></p> <p > </p> <p >Muscles ached and reacted as my mind came awake, they moved on their own with out order, causing the head to lull forward and then jerk violently as it attempted to compensate for its own falling weight.<span>  </span>The voices went silent.</p> <p > </p> <p >Fabric rustled as the darkness was lifted from the lulling head.<span>  </span>White flashed as light struck eyes that were adjusted to the dark they found themselves in and a pain spiked through them as they tried to compensate for the sudden intrusion into their once blackened universe.<span>   </span>Blurry visions wavered as two dark figures began to materialize out of the white like black phantoms.</p> <p > </p> <p >A voice spoke in a lulled accent, “So yur finally awake.<span>  </span>Good, good.”</p> <p > </p> <p >Swollen lips tried to talk past a dry throat that choked into a coughing fit.<span>   </span>Another sensation returned in the form of binds.<span>   </span>Arms and hands tied to numbness to the chair at his back.<span>  </span>My legs and feet woven to the chair with thick rope.<span>  </span>The coughing went on and as it did, I struggled against the bindings to no avail.</p> <p > </p> <p >“Yur not goin’ anywhere my little blue friend.<span>  </span>Yur dark elf butt is ours now,” the voice said with its slow droll.<span>   </span></p> <p > </p> <p >The black phantoms came into focus as the coughing subsided.<span>   </span>Two men, lean and well muscled.<span>   </span>The speaker with a head of sandy blond hair and a hard look to leathered skin.<span>  </span>The second brown hair with an unremarkable face one would not remember only moments after having just seen it.<span>   </span>He looked nervous.</p> <p > </p> <p >Voice cracking, I hardly even recognized it as my own, “Whe…re?<span>   </span>Wha…. Happen…”</p> <p > </p> <p >The only response was a laugh and the sudden motion of a black bag being placed back over my head just before a solid blow rang with a crack against the back of my skull and the darkness consumed me once again.</p> <p > </p> <p >I came too some time later with the feeling of a soft touch and a cool rag dabbing at my face.<span>  </span></p> <p > </p> <p >“Shhh, don’t move.<span>  </span>I need to get you cleaned up.”<span>  </span>The voice was a female, soft and caring with that same lulled accent the man had.<span>  </span>There was the sound of a rag being dipped in water and wrung out.</p> <p > </p> <p >I realized my eyes where closed.<span>  </span>It took some doing and one finally opened the other seemed to be swollen shut.<span>  </span>Sloppy.<span>  </span>They had beaten me while I was passed out.<span>  </span>Whatever they are after they were amateurs.<span>  </span>You do not inflict harm when the prisoner, that is what I was, a prisoner, can not feel it being done to him.<span>  </span>It serves no purpose.</p> <p > </p> <p >This led me to the conclusion, “I didn’t do anything to you people.<span>  </span>I’m just a wandering monk, not a Tier’Dal raider.”<span>  </span>The dabbing rag paused, it was only a momentary thing but it was a pause.</p> <p > </p> <p >“I’m just here to clean you up,” her voice was quieter than even before.<span>  </span>My single eye adjusted finally.<span>  </span>She was human with her hair pulled back into a long thick black braid that hung over her shoulder dangling freely in the space between them.<span>  </span>Her clothing was stander wools and cottons.<span>  </span>Farmers clothing, maybe a merchant or cook.<span>  </span>Whatever she was, this wasn’t her.<span>  </span>She was a worker, not a healer.</p> <p > </p> <p >My single eye, puffy as it was locked onto hers.<span>   </span>It’s funny what you notice but she had beautiful eyes of green.<span>  </span>They were trying to avoid mine.<span>  </span>“Clean me up, so they can torture me again, you mean?”</p> <p > </p> <p >“I got nothin’ to do with that,” she replied defensively.<span>  </span></p> <p > </p> <p >He bit off his first quip.<span>  </span>Smart, I had to play this smart.<span>   </span>“If that is what helps you sleep.”<span>   </span>There, that should be just enough.</p> <p > </p> <p >I closed my eyes and let her finish the cleaning.<span>  </span>She gave me some water and stale end of bread, moldy too.<span>   </span>“Get rest.”<span>  </span>Then she was gone with the sound of a wooden door and the click of a metal latch.</p> <p > </p> <p >Alone and awake, finally.</p> <p > </p> <p >It is nice being elven.<span>  </span>Not only are the ears rather dashing, but they are fully functional to hear beyond what humans and many other small eared races could.<span>  </span>Unfortunately I heard nothing at all beyond my own breath and the beat heart in my chest.</p> <p > </p> <p >The room was bare that I could see.<span>   </span>The floor was dirt with wooden supports to hold up a wooden ceiling that rose ten feet above me.<span>  </span>It was square as well; decent sized even, perhaps a basement.<span>  </span>A new basement even as all the wood was brand new and the dirt seemed freshly dug.<span>   </span>Even the smell of fresh wood and dirt was in the air now that I was looking.<span>   </span>That made the only way in and out the door that latched behind me.</p> <p > </p> <p >My wrists turned and squirmed inside the bindings.<span>   </span>Leather cords.<span>  </span>Farmers always knew their knots and their bindings.<span>   </span>Working with pack animals all day will do that.<span>  </span>Still, this was not impossible.<span>  </span></p> <p > </p> <p >Surviving comes down to only a hand full of things.<span>  </span>Firstly, is to keep a clear mind and not panic.<span>  </span>Panic is what gets people killed.<span>   </span>In a burning building, for instance, instinct is to retrace your steps and leave the way you came in.<span>   </span>If<span>  </span>you get a hundred people doing that and ignoring the other less obvious ways out that simple observation would have given them and suddenly a fire that should have had no fatalities has as forty people dead from being trampled and burning.<span>  </span></p> <p > </p> <p >Observation would be another.<span>   </span>Just being aware that anything is possible and marking exits or water sources at a bon fire can be the difference between life and death.</p> <p > </p> <p >When a hostage and being tortured, patience is another, however the most important of all things when in a situation like this is not to loose hope.<span>   </span>Hope of survival, something to cling to and live for will keep even the most unprepared individual alive in the hottest desert far beyond the point he should have been able to keep breathing.<span>  </span>I’ve seen it in T’Narev during my training in the deserts of Ro and it applied here now.<span>  </span></p> <p > </p> <p >The only thing to do was play it slow, find out what they wanted, or thought they had.<span>   </span>Time would loosen the binds eventually, but for now, it was time to rest.<span>   </span>It was easier than usual to slip into a healing meditative state and from there, sleep came easily.</p> <p > </p> <p >I’m not sure how long I was out.<span>  </span>In my head it felt like I had just closed my eyes but the crick in my neck told me at least a couple hours.<span>  </span>I woke to what sounded like a bomb going off as one of the two kicked the door open and it crashed against the wooden wall.</p> <p > </p> <p >I could see the shadow on the wall before me, outlined by the light that came in from the door behind.<span>  </span>So, it was below ground, but whatever was above was small enough for the sun to get down here fairly bright.<span>   </span>Another thing to hold onto.</p> <p > </p> <p >“I don’t know who you think you have but you’ve got the wrong…”<span>  </span></p> <p > </p> <p >The back of my skull was introduced to something blunt that stopped my tongue as the sandy blond haired man, Sandy, from here on out, came around the back of the chair, holding a small bit of rounded wood to hit me with apparently.<span>  </span>His face was smug, a man who has power and thinks it means something when the other person is tied up and has it coming.<span>  </span>Which of course, I didn’t.<span>  </span></p> <p > </p> <p >“Ya, we heard it from her.<span>   </span>I figure you’re using your Tier’Dal ways on her, sneaking into her mind and making her see you for what you ain’t.”<span>  </span>He just had it all figured out, didn’t he?<span>  </span>[Removed for Content].<span>   </span>He went on, “Well, it won’t make any difference, even if you were right, only proves you where part of it.<span>  </span>Not so smart now are ya?”</p> <p > </p> <p >I sighed and shook my head.<span>  </span>Frustration as I was learning, held levels of degree and this country lout was already pushing to unknown heights.<span>  </span>He must have taken that for confession he had it right because, “That’s right.<span>   </span>You and your little raider buddies have been preying on our area long enough; we’ll stretch you on a stake to warn ‘em away.<span>  </span>I knew you were one of them, a scout or somethin’, when I saw you on the road.<span>  </span>No one throws a sling like me.<span>   </span>Yur Inkie magic’s don’t mean much when you’re out clod now does it?”</p> <p > </p> <p >I thought of trying to explain that I was only passing through, that, in fact I was on my way to this area BECAUSE of the Tier’Dal raids on this area.<span>   </span>I needed the money, and who better to take out Tier’Dal than another of their own, there’s no one for them to go after in retaliation.<span>  </span>Instead, I was ambushed by Sandy here, likely one of the very people I had come to help.<span>  </span>And people say gratitude is dead.</p> <p > </p> <p >I was waking up, that hazing fog of forced awareness to quickly fading as I looked at this man.<span>   </span>I’ve seen hatred before.<span>  </span>I, myself, have been there countless times.<span>  </span>And here before me Hate stood like a looming beast from the void once again.<span>  </span>What made this stick out in my mind with only a hand full of others was his face.</p> <p > </p> <p >This man was not a killer, or at least he hadn’t been.<span>  </span>He was lean but his cheek, his general manner he had lead a hard working life, but a good one.<span>   </span>Likely friends and family, maybe even a couple of children.<span>  </span>Now though, hatred and fear had gripped his heart and like a tsunami it had washed over his entire life’s history and sullied the ones pure water and as the tsunami retreated, it left only the shattered debris on a now scared landscape.</p> <p > </p> <p >I felt pity for him.<span>  </span>And as tired as I still was, my face must have let that slip.</p> <p > </p> <p >Sandy looked suddenly shaken.<span>  </span>“What?!<span>  </span>You look at … you look at me like yur sorry for me!”<span>  </span>He shouted, took a step forward.</p> <p > </p> <p >“Not sorry.<span>  </span>Pity.”<span>  </span>My dry voice responded.</p> <p > </p> <p >The next thing I know was being punched, kneed, and kicked repeatedly.<span>  </span>It was hap hazard though, no direction… he had just lost it.<span>  </span>It hurt, true, but even for a farm this man was no fighter.<span>  </span>I just did my best to keep my head down and suck it up until he tired, or I passed out.</p> <p > </p> <p >Turns out, he got tired, and then I passed out.<span>  </span>Win for me?</p> <p > </p><p>(Cont in next post)</p>

[MysticTrunks01]

<p >Again, that gods awful BAM! As the door was kicked open and my head jerked up.<span>  </span>Except this time I wasn’t the one jerking my head, someone had a handful of white hair and something cold and very sharp was on my throat.<span>  </span></p> <p > </p> <p >I think I heard three pairs of foots steps on the wooden stairs, but I wasn’t sure.<span>  </span>Sandy walked around my chair and into my vision.<span>  </span>Must be the quiet one behind me.</p> <p > </p> <p >Sandy crossed his arms, imposing, just like a villain in a story, he stood quietly as the dagger or knife blade was getting snug with my neck.<span>    </span>He also had a sword strapped to his belt.<span>  </span>It didn’t look right or sit right there on his hip and if the leather was any indication it had been at the bottom of a chest for years with no care given.<span>  </span>Swords and knives… not good.</p> <p > </p> <p >I worked my mind as best I could, training in T’Narev we’ve done such things to wear out the mind and body and still make them function.<span>   </span>Calming breaths, deep and long, focus on a single object and thought.<span>   </span>Sandy was my object, escape was the thought.</p> <p > </p> <p >“Times come.”<span>  </span>Sandy said and nodded to the man behind him to do the deed.<span>  </span>However, the quiet one hesitated.<span>  </span></p> <p > </p> <p >“Coward.”</p> <p > </p> <p >That burning hatred returned to those eyes with the intensity of a bellows flame.<span>  </span>“What was that!?”</p> <p > </p> <p >Talking wasn’t easy, my tongue kept sticking to my cheek, or the roof of my mouth, but, “I said… Coward.”<span>  </span>The eyes flashed again as I croaked, “Can’t kill me yourself, you don’t have the balls for it.<span>  </span>You … can’t even avenge your friends on your own.<span>  </span>I take it back, I don’t pity you.<span>  </span>I just think you’re pathetic”</p> <p > </p> <p >That just about did it.<span>  </span>There was a rasp of steel on very dry leather as that sword came out and he lunged, not thinking and blind with hatred.<span>  </span>One chance.</p> <p > </p> <p >The sword thrust at my heart and with that movement, I lowered myself as far down into the chair as my binding allowed.<span>  </span>Pain exploded in my shoulder as the steel sank into flesh, passing through my collar bone and directly into the stomach of the man behind me.<span>    </span>There was a gurgled cry of shock and the dagger at my throat fell into my lap as the one behind me clutched at his wound and stumbled back.</p> <p > </p> <p >Warm blood from my shoulder trickled down my arm to my bindings, mingling with the pumping flow from the man behind me before he stepped back.<span>   </span>Sandy let go of the sword as he stared, mouth open at having just stabbed his companion.<span>   </span></p> <p > </p> <p >This by the way hurt and broke my collar bone.<span>  </span>The weight of the sword hilt not being held up jerked the rest of the blade up, breaking the bone before sliding out of the wound.<span>  </span>I tried to stifle a cry of pain, but it only did so much.<span>  </span>A guttural cry deep in my dry throat escaped, but it made no difference, they weren’t even paying attention to me now… not yet.</p> <p > </p> <p >The warm blood on the bindings did the trick.<span>  </span>Lubrication and expansion as the leather soaked some of the moisture in; my hands were freed, even though my left arm was useless now.<span>  </span>The dagger that had fallen to my lap was in my right hand as soon as my stiff shoulder allowed it.<span>   </span>I flick at me feet and I was free.<span>  </span>That’s when I heard the woman scream, “HE’S FREE!”</p> <p > </p> <p >I rolled forward out of the chair, dagger in hand, up and over my head and twisting to come to my feet facing them.<span>  </span></p> <p > </p> <p >Sandy was starting to stand from holding his fallen friend who was himself now lying on the ground, panting.<span>  </span>The woman was over him as well, looking at the wound not knowing fully what to do.<span>  </span>Sandy began to move.</p> <p > </p> <p >“Hold it.”<span>  </span>The dagger pointed in his direction and the fact that he was sword less stopped him.<span>  </span>He was in shock I could see.<span>  </span>The act of stabbing, maybe killing his friend, had stolen the hatred right out of his eyes.<span>  </span>“I’m going to go now, you just, take care of your friend.”</p> <p > </p> <p >I circled around the chair which had been home for the last several days and then around the three.<span>  </span>My left arm hung limp and bleeding as my back went to the stairs and one foot after another lifted me up and out of this basement.</p> <p > </p> <p >“Yur not going to kill us?”<span>  </span>The woman asked in her quiet voice.</p> <p > </p> <p >I paused in my climb to freedom.<span>  </span>“I can’t kill what’s already dead inside.”</p> <p > </p> <p >Hatred.<span>  </span>It’s a very cruel mistress.<span>  </span>It’s like fire, a dangerous servant and a fearful master.<span>  </span>Even to us Tier’Dal, who are bred upon hatred, given it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, it destroys more of us than it strengthens.<span>   </span>Hate is rash and rarely thinks as to the consequences of itself.<span>  </span>Can I say Hate is always destructive?<span>  </span>No.<span>  </span>It has given some strength to live on where they normally would not.<span>   </span>Hate is emotion though, and as with all emotions, when it is not controlled by the mind and the heart, it is but a fire, waiting for a single moment of weakness to burn you to the ground.</p>

[MysticTrunks01]

<p><em><strong>Broken Jewel, Part 1</strong></em></p><p>It would would go down in history as one of the worst summer droughts since the Rending shattered the world.  The kind of heat the would crack the skin and dry the through just for breathing.  Many dusty trails where created during this time as the brush was easily broken and straighter paths made which was all for the better as the less time someone traveled during the day the better their fortune.<span >Xannis</span> <span >Sul'Egna</span>, a wandering monk, was traveling on just such a dust choked trail.  Hood pulled over to keep his long <span >Tier'Dal</span> ears from burning and the sun out of his sensitive eyes he watched his feet mile after mile the little clouds of dust that they created the only other moving he saw for hours and the shuffling of his feet the only sound.  That is until a soft whimper from just off the trail in a ditch caught his ear.Feet halting he stopped to listen.  It would not be entirely impossible he had started to just hear things.  No, there it was again.  A stifled crying.  Making his way towards the sound, he saw a girl.   She was young maybe ten or so, he never was good with human children's ages, they all looked the same really.  Something about her though was not right.  <span >Xannis</span> looked up and down the trail and so nothing save for what looked like hours old tracks.  Looking back he finally caught was was unnatural about her.Whimpering as she was, she didn't move.  She just sat there with her legs splayed out and under her with her head bend down staring at a fixed point of nothing.  Her arms hung limply at her sides, not in her lap or over her dusty and tear streaked face.  In one hand she clutched a little brown rag doll with atuft of floppy hair at the top and big black button eyes by the dolls arm.  He stepped closer. Nothing.   And closer still.   Still, nothing.  Crouching in front of her, she didn't even seem to register his existence."Are you okay?"  He asked carefully.  Nothing.  Down close to her though she was dry.  Lips cracked and bleeding.   There was no telling how long she'd been out here.  His fingers went to pull back some hair from her face to see more of it.  That was more than she could take apparently as the next moment she was screaming at the top of her lungs and flailing.  Backing away, she stopped and went limp once more."<span >Hmm</span>..."  Uncorking a water skin and dabbing it onto a rag he put it to her lips.  Nothing at first and then... she began to take the water in. Re-wetting the rag again and again until finally she reached on her own for the water skin and began to drink.   Her dirty black hair set back from her face to reveal a rather nasty bruise over her right eye.  As she drank she met his eyes and glittered like to almond gem stones in the hot sun, he smiled at her.  She smiled back.It was ten miles down the road that they caught up to the travelers who's card and feet had left the tracks.  They had set up camp for the night, big hangings to block what remained of the sun.   The pair of them walked into the camp Xannis holding one of the girls hands.  It had been the only way to get her to walk with him.  He'd tried just having her follow but she'd only stand there.  Taking her hand and starting her to walk and letting go also did not work, it had to be his hand in hers or nothing at all.   In her other hand was the floppy brown rag doll dangling next to her leg. The travelers looked up when a rather plump and hooked nosed woman with beedy eyes came from the cooking pot brandishing a large wooden spoon.  "Wot's all this now!?"  She stopped before the monk and the lost girl, three burly looking men flanking her.  They looked to be all related, no amount of ugly gathering in one place was that coincidental. From under his hood Xannis asked, "Pardon me, but I found this child on the road, did you happen to see anyone that might have lost her?" The little girl was staring at her blank spot of nothing before her feet as the hooked nosed woman replied in a hawty tone, "Jewel!?  Why'd you bring 'er back here eh?!  It took us an hour to get her to stop following us and 'ere you are, bringin' 'er back!  Go, on, get.. get!"  She waved the large spoon at them with her pudgy hand. "You left her out there, in this drought?" His voice was calm but a glowing ember began to burn in the monks chest. "Course we did!  She's worthless, touched in the head.  Can't do nothin' for herself.  Just takes up space and eats our food and drink our water!  Regret the day we took her in I does!" "That was as good as a death sentence, "ma'am"." "Wot do I care, eh?!  Took care of 'er for a year now and ain't no one else want her.  Better off dead she is, never knows where she is half the time.  Just stares off inta space, always havin' ta hold someones hand to get 'er to walk."  The spoon brandished before him like a cudgle.  "Now, shove off, and take 'er wif ya if you care so much!"  The long spoon swung suddenly at the little girls head.  Xannis taken off guard by the randomness of the attack was to late to stop the spoon from connecting with the girls other eye. Only, it didn't connect.  Jewel, still staring at her spot of nothing, had grabbed the spoon and pulled it free.  The womans fat hand only wized by girls face empty handed.  Everyone blinked surprised, even Xannis.   Then the others blinked again, Xannis hood had slipped when he made to go for the spoon.  Light purple skin and long Tier'Dal ears framed by long white hair, all centered around to vibrantly violet eyes, looked back at them. The woman screamed, two of large sons scrambled back with her.  One tried to come forward, arm raised in a meaty fisted punch.  He landed hard on his back after a single kick to the face toppled him.   The three others were running and now appeared far off in the distance.  Xannis looked down at his new ward and sighed.  She was looking back at him, or more specifically, his leg with her bright almond colored eyes.  "Alright then... Lets get what water of theirs we can carry and go."</p>

[niko_teen]

<p>YEA!!!!! *does an uncharisticly ranger type dance around in a circle*</p><p>I've returned from a far off island to the east (business trip) and I've come back to have a new Xannis post!</p><p>And since I always loved it when people would respond to my stories I'm going to yeah! *big thumbs up*</p><p>KK I'll stop gushing and get to reading but STILL! YEA!!!!</p><p>*Has decided that he has been watching too much anime and tip-toes away*</p>

[MysticTrunks01]

<p>Haha, a bit much on the anime?  No such thing.  A bit late on my reply but glad you enjoyed Niko</p>