Maela the Salamander

Guest

“No! You need to draw these lines at exactly the same distance from the body of the symbol!” yelled Gar’thor. He was one of the Pain masters in his tribe. His coat was a wonderful shade of light blue that blended almost perfectly with his snowy environment. Like many of the other Sizner in his tribe, his eyes were red. These eyes were staring directly into the face of the young Sizner he was shouting at: Dar’fur.

“I’m trying,” said the child calmly. “I’ve only been you’re student for four moons. You can’t expect me to have mastered it.” Dar’fur had a dark blue coat. His eyes were a rare shade of green. This color was so rare that many of his tribe members believed him to be a curse. He was being taught one of the basic Pain spells: Pain Dart.

“I understand that you’ve been my student for such a short duration, but that is no excuse for not being able to learn such a simple spell as Pain Dart!”

“Perhaps for you, but I am only twelve years old.” He drew the symbol of his spell in the air, still calmly.

“You are too calm, Dar’fur! A spell of the Pain class requires a source of anger. You have to-,” but he could not finish his sentence. He had been struck by Dar’fur’s spell and was thrown back from its power.

“I actually did it!” shouted the caster excitedly.

“Yes. I guess you did,” Gar’thor grunted. He dismissed his student for the day and turned towards his hut for his midday meal.

Dar’fur walked back to his hut, eager to tell his mother what he had accomplished. He thought about how he cast the spell and tried as hard as he could to memorize the symbol. After he thought he had the spell memorized, he slowed down slightly to admire nature. He peered north towards the mountains where his father had traveled too, but never came back; to the west, towards the great forests where the tribe’s main food supply came from; to the south, toward the village and finally towards the east, to his home. He looked down momentarily and stopped suddenly. He spotted a small salamander. Salamanders were amazing creatures almost like lizards, but with six legs. This one had a deep purple coat, making it stand out in the snow.

Dar’fur crouched down and said softly, “Hello there.” The salamander raised her head and looked directly at Dar’fur who asked, “Where did you come from?”

The salamander tilted her head and let out a quiet “eep.” Her “voice” was small, but high pitched. Dar’fur smiled shortly and lifted the lizard onto his shoulder.

“I’ll call you Maela, for now. ” Dar’fur continued down the barely visible pathway towards his hut.

“Shh,” whispered Dar’fur to Maela who had let out an oddly loud series of “eeps”. They were in the snow-covered forest, hunting. Dar’fur had sighted a deer in a glade and he didn’t want to lose dinner again. He crept through the bushes and got as close as he could to the animal. He was roughly twenty yards from the deer now, well within reach of his arrows. The hunter took one of his arrows, laced it on the bowstring and pulled back. He aimed for the deer’s heart, but as soon as he had his target, a bright purple flash shined from it. Someone had cast a Pain spell on the deer, but who?

“I didn’t cast that spell,” said Dar’fur, lowering his bow cautiously. “Who could have cast that powerful-?” he began, but a small “eep,” from Maela, interrupted him.

“You cast that spell? That was a powerful Pain Burst!” He walked over to deer and felt its neck for a pulse to ensure that it was dead. Surprisingly, it did have a pulse. “It’s alive!” shouted Dar’fur. He took his knife and mercifully dispatched the animal. He picked up the corpse and carried it back to his hut.

The next day, Dar’fur went to his class as usual, but he brought Maela with him. “Hello Gar’thor.”

Gar’thor grunted and said, “What’s that?” He was pointing at Dar’fur’s shoulder where Maela was standing.

“This is Maela, my salamander.”

Gar’thor glanced at the salamander and shrugged. “She can stay as long as she does not get in the way.”

“I have a question for you, Gar’thor: Is it possible for a salamander to learn spells?”

“I suppose it’s possible, but it would take years of training, both for the owner and the salamander.”

“Well, I believe that Maela knows some Pain spells.”

Gar’thor laughed loudly. “A young salamander would not be able to learn such magic so easily. Especially from such a young boy that can’t master spells himself!”

“But I saw her cast a Pain Burst!”

“You saw an illusion,” Gar’thor said, obviously annoyed by this game. So Dar’fur stopped arguing with his instructor and began to think of what he would do after his lessons. He went through his lesson, nearly perfecting his Pain Dart and moving on to his Pain Burst.

After his lessons, he hurried home and collected his bow, a dozen arrows, his dagger and a small bottle of black ink. He carried everything into the snow-covered forest and sat down on a fallen tree. He set everything on the ground next to him, but kept the inkbottle. He took Maela off of his shoulder and spoke to her quietly. “This may hurt a little, my friend.”

Maela made a small “eep,” to show that she understood and stood on the ground firmly. Dar’fur took his dagger and wet the tip with ink. He softly pricked Maela’s skin multiple times in a pattern of a perfect Pain Burst symbol.

“From now on, I will tattoo all of the spells you cast onto your skin.” When he had finished tattooing Maela with the Pain Burst, he looked at his work: a perfect symbol to show what the small lizard can do. Dar’fur picked up Maela and set the salamander on his shoulder. He placed his dagger and the inkbottle on his belt, shouldered the quiver of arrows and picked up his bow. The hunter was now silently creeping through the forest, looking for more game.

Maela made an “eep,” and looked to the left. She made the sound again. The creature was now creating sounds at a rapid pace until Dar’fur finally looked in the direction his friend was facing. In a bush, he spotted a pair of gray eyes, staring at them. He knew what those eyes belonged to: a wolf. Judging by the distance from the ground and the size of the two glowing eyes, Dar’fur guessed it was a mid aged wolf, not easy to fight at his age and skill. The wolf sprung out of its hiding spot and threw Dar’fur against a tree. Maela was hurled off of his shoulder and was now flying through the air making a very high-pitched shrieking sound.

“Maela!” shouted Dar’fur in alarm, wrestling with the wolf. He threw the wolf off of himself and grabbed his dagger. He looked around swiftly for his bow. He found it smashed in two against a rock. The wolf pounced on him, crushing him against the ground. Trapped under the wolf, Dar’fur scrambled to attack.

He managed a small slice along the wolf’s stomach: just enough to make it jump back. Dar’fur looked around for Maela. The wolf pounced again, but Dar’fur was ready and dodged. He found an arrow from his quiver and threw it at the attacker. It landed hard in the animal’s left side. The wolf gave a short howl of pain and collapsed, still alive. Dar’fur walked towards the heaving body and held up his dagger. With one quick stab, the creature died.

Dar’fur took a step back and looked at the wolf for a moment. Without warning, another wolf jumped out of the woods behind him, hurling him into the snow. Dar’fur stood up uneasily and shouted, “Maela!” The new wolf was slightly older than the last, and also more powerful. The wolf charged for Dar’fur, but was struck by a sudden blow from the dagger. Dar’fur tried to flee, but the wolf jumped and brought him to the ground. It began to bite, once on Dar’fur’s left arm and twice on his torso. Dar’fur managed to toss the wolf onto its side and mercifully plunged the dagger into its side. He didn’t waste anymore of his precious time to check to see if the wolf was alive. He immediately called for Maela and heard a soft “eep,” from the branch of a low tree. Dar’fur ran to the salamander and placed her on his shoulder gently. “It’s alright. Let’s go home.” Dar’fur had lost his bow, five arrows, the inkbottle and a lot of blood. The wolf’s bites were worsening. Blood flowed openly out of them like small rivers. Dar’fur grabbed everything he had left and ran back home through the forest.

“What did you say happened?” asked Dar’fur’s mother, worried. Dar’fur had walked into his hut and told his mother what happened. He was now lying on his bed with his mother treating the bites.

“I was hunting and a wolf jumped out of a bush and attacked me! I killed it, but another came from behind. I killed it too, but it gave me these wounds.”

“These wounds are deep. You need to stay in the hut for now and let them heal.”

“I have lessons tomorrow and the rest of the week. And what about food? If I can’t hunt, we’ll have no food,” complained Dar’fur.

“We can trade something for food.”

“But we have nothing to trade.”

“What about that salamander. She could be worth something,” offered his mother.

“No! I’m not trading Maela!”

“Then I will have to go into the forest myself and hunt.”

“But” He stopped. He hadn’t told his mother about the bow yet. “I broke the bow.”

His mother sighed. “I’ll think of something to bring in food. For now, you need rest.”
Dar’fur was about to argue more, but Maela walked onto the table next to his bed and made a small “eep.” So Dar’fur rested. He fell asleep and dreamt.

To be continued…

Part 2 has already been begun, but I haven't made much progress. So don't go expecting more soon!

Subject: Re: Maela the Salamander May 19th 2008, 7:07 pm

Very nice so far! I give it a yes!

Guest

Part II is done!

“Maela?” Dar’fur was walking on the top of one of the mountains. It was colder and snowier than the village and forest. He was searching for his salamander. “Maela? Where are you?” He was looking all around and saw another Sizner sitting inside of a dark cave without a fire. “Hello?” he called to the caveman.

“Who’s there?” asked the darkened figure.

“I’m Dar’fur, a Sizner from the village-”

“Wait. Dar’fur? Did you say? Dar’fur?”

“Well, yes.” Dar’fur was now worried.

“Dar’fur!” The figure rose quickly and ran over to him and he let out a yell of fear. The figure picked him up and hugged him tightly.

“What are you doing?” Dar’fur shouted.

“Don’t you recognize me?”

“N-No.”

“Why, I’m your father.”

Dar’fur was dumbfounded. Here he was: on top of one of the mountains looking right at his father whom he had never seen before. “It’s impossible. My father died years ago. He can’t be alive.”

“Oh, but I am! I’ll prove it to you. You and your mother live out in a hut alone, separated from your village. On the day of your birth, you were born with red eyes, but two days after, on the night of the full moon, they turned green. You were also born with golden skin, but that also changed on the same night.”

“It is you, isn’t it? I can’t believe-,” but a horrific sight stopped him from going on. An arrow had been shot and pierced through his father’s heart. His blood poured out of him and within seconds the entire mountain was tinted red with blood. Not just the mountain, but also the sky, the clouds; everything except for himself. He attempted to scream, but nothing came out. Just then, everything faded into black and he woke up.

***

Dar’fur shouted in fear of his nightmare making Maela jump a few feet into the air. His mother called and he heard he running towards him. “Dar’fur? What’s wrong?” She ran into the room worriedly, looking at her son. Maela tilted her head and let out a familiar “eep.”

“I-I’m fine mother,” Dar’fur stuttered quietly. Calming himself he asked, “What really happened to father?”

His mother stopped dead in her tracks at the mention of Dar’fur’s father. She continued to tend to her son and hurriedly said, “Your father was an adventurer. He went into the mountains and-,”

“I know that,” said Dar’fur. “I want to know how he died.”

“No one knows how your father died, or even if he is dead. You already know all that we know.”

Dar’fur could tell that his mother was lying, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he asked her when he would continue his classes. He was to rest for the next two days. After that, he could go to class if he wanted. Dar’fur could only imagine how angry Gar’thor would be.

***

“Where have you been?” demanded Gar’thor angrily.

“I was out hunting and I was attacked by a wolf, but-“

“I don’t want to hear stories. If stories are all that you have to offer me, then we shall continue our lessons.” While he was saying this, a Sizner appearing to be younger than Dar’fur walked up to Gar’thor.

“I’m ready for my lesson, sir,” said the stranger.

“Who are you?” questioned Dar’fur.

“I’m Kelden. I’m Gar’thor’s newest student,” he said proudly. “Who are you?”

“I’m Dar’fur, Gar’thor’s original student.”

“Well, I’m sure that we’ll learn a whole lot from the teacher!” Kelden said. Dar’fur could already tell that he didn’t like this new child.

“I can’t wait until we get the chance to duel him,” whispered Dar’fur to Maela, who gave a small, excited “eep.”

“Because we have a new student,” began Gar’thor, “We will begin with the basics; what powders provide which bonuses to spells.”

“Gar’thor?” interrupted Dar’fur. “Might I go home while you two go over the basic lessons? I’ll come back once you and Kelden are at my level.” Gar’thor grunted his approval and Dar’fur ran back home to prepare. He was planning to go north, into the mountains and search for his father.

***

“Here’s what we’ll need, Maela: a bow, a dozen or so arrows and my dagger for hunting, some food for both of us and some parchment and ink for a map and notes.” Maela “eep”’ed to show that they had everything he listed. “Then we’re ready.”

His mother was helping him prepare and asked, “Are you sure you want to do this Dar’fur?”

“I have to find father. Please, don’t try to stop me.” Dar’fur began to walk towards his hut’s door.

His mother spoke and he stopped. “When you find him, be sure to bring him back. Dead, or alive.” Dar’fur nodded slightly and walked through the door.

***

Dar’fur was panting and he wasn’t even half way to the mountains. “I never knew it would be such a long journey just to get to the mountains. He left early morning and it was almost sundown. “We have to set up a small camp for the night,” said Dar’fur. “It’s going to be dark soon.”

Just then, Dar’fur heard a strange gurgling sound come from within the snow. He readied his bow and Maela became alert immediately. “Who’s there?” Dar’fur asked the snow. Some of the snow moved. Dar’fur strung an arrow, aimed at the patch and waited for more movement. Maela made an “eep” in the opposite direction and Dar’fur swung around. He saw what he was fighting. It looked just like a pile of slime, but icy blue. He had heard rumors of these Slimes. They changed their color to adapt to their surroundings and then they hid under the groundcover. The few Slimes Dar’fur saw behind him were uncovered and he shot at one of them. The arrow landed right in the center of the Slime, making it immobile for a few seconds. Dar’fur waited in these seconds of silence and stillness to see what would happen. The Slime split itself at the back end and moved out of the arrow’s hold.

Dar’fur was awestruck until Maela let out a worried “eep”. Dar’fur snapped back to his senses, grabbed everything he could, and ran. He left the tent he managed to construct and the fire that he had built. He was also now missing an arrow and had only half of his food left.

“What are we going to do?” Dar’fur asked Maela. “We’re running out of food, we have no fire and no shelter and there’s no way to kill these Slimes.” As he finished, he saw a small pile of sticks. He moved over to them, rearranged them and attempted to make a fire. After several futile attempts, the sticks and Maela glowed red and orange. Dar’fur stepped away from the sticks just in time, for they had burst into flames and Maela gave a small, proud “eep”.

Dar’fur stared at Maela for a moment and finally turned his attention to shelter. “How to find shelter?” he thought to himself. After looking through the snow, he found a few decent sized branches and leaves that could be used as cover and blankets. He put together a small, shabby tent that was large enough to fit him, Maela and all of his supplies. By the time he had finished, the sun was well past set, but he could now sleep semi-safely.

***

The next morning, Dar’fur awoke as soon as the sun rose. Maela was standing watch outside the tent and moved aside to show something to Dar’fur. He looked outside and saw at least twenty of the Snow Slimes.

“Oh, no.”

Maela had set up a small fence of fire around their tent, keeping the Slimes away, but it would die within the next hour. Dar’fur had to work quickly. He packed up all of his equipment and dismantled the tent. He took a stick that he found lying on the ground and set the tip on fire to make a torch. “Ready Maela?” he asked. She replied with a short “eep”.

Dar’fur threw a few handfuls of snow onto a line of the fire to put it out and jumped out of the circle. The Slimes followed quickly, but they kept their distance.

Dar’fur slowed slightly and thought to himself. What’s keeping them away? Is it the torch? He tossed the torch over to his side to test this theory and the Slimes came closer. “It is the fire!” he shouted in joy.

“Maela, use Fire Burst on one of the Slimes.” She looked at him strangely, but did as he said. Sure enough, it died as much as a pile of slime could.

The other Slimes began to move in the opposite direction as if in fear. Dar’fur laughed faintly and continued towards the mountain.

***

“Now!” shouted Dar’fur. He and Maela were hunting a deer in the thick forest. Maela glowed purple and a Pain Dart flew from her. The spell hit the deer in the side, making it fall to the ground. Dar’fur released an arrow and it plunged into the creature, killing it. “Finally, some food!” he exclaimed happily. Dar’fur ran to the corpse and set down his equipment. He collected some branches and attempted a fire. He made a spark, but it died quickly. The pile burst into flames and Dar’fur fell back. “Thank you, Maela,” he said, re-balancing himself.

It was only a few hours before sundown, so Dar’fur had to work quickly. He sliced some strips of meat from the deer and placed them to cook. He made a note to make a tent out of the deer’s skin later. This took him about an hour, and the sun was very low now. He ran to find materials he could use in a tent. Dar’fur found a few thin, but sturdy branches and many leaves. He put them together into a tent and placed his equipment into it. This tent was smaller than the other one he had constructed, but it would still do for the night. The sun was just setting as he finished, and he began to sleep.

***

“Dar’fur? Is that you? Have you come back?” Dar’fur’s father was speaking to him. “Dar’fur!”

“Father? Am I dreaming again?”

“I’m afraid so,” his father said sadly. “But you are almost to the mountains; only half a day’s walk from here. I will be here when you arrive.”

“Then,” Dar’fur stopped. “You’re alive?”

His father waited for a moment and then spoke. “Yes, but not for long.”

“Not for long? Why?” Just then, everything began to blur and darken. “No!” He awoke suddenly, making Maela jump.

***

“Eep?” Maela said questioningly.

“We have to hurry, Maela! In my dream, I saw my father! He was still alive, but he said, ‘Not for long.’

“Eep?” Maela said again.

“Let’s go.” Dar’fur began to pack everything up. When he ran outside of the tent, he saw that the sun hadn’t risen yet. He paused for a moment, thinking whether to wait until the sun rose, but then scrambled to get everything ready. Dar’fur heard the rustling of leaves and a branch breaking suddenly and stopped. “Who’s there?” Dar’fur heard more noise and the source appeared; an Ice Slime.

Instinctively, he grabbed for a torch and flung it at the Slime. It died with a loud shriek and fell apart. Dar’fur continued collecting his equipment. When he had finished, he grabbed Maela, put her on his shoulder, and ran off towards the mountains.

***

The sun was just past its highest point when Dar’fur and Maela had found the base of the mountains, but they found something else as well: a small, ransacked village. He estimated about twenty villagers, but he could find none. Finally, in the middle of the small village, he found a living Sizner. He was about a year younger than Dar’fur by the looks of it. He was colored dark blue and silver and had very small scales. At the moment, he was facing away from Dar’fur.

“What happened here?” shouted Dar’fur to the stranger. The unknown Sizner swung around and aimed a bow at Dar’fur.

His face was tear-stained and his voice was choked. “Are you- with those bandits?” he yelled, not lowering the bow.

“What bandits?” Dar’fur asked. As he did, he saw a dark brown Sizner adult running with a sword towards the child. “Behind you!” he took his bow, readied an arrow and released it, all in a matter of seconds. The arrow hit the attacker in the left side of his torso, but he continued to run.

The child turned quickly and shot the bandit with his bow, shouting at the same time. “You killed my family, you bandit! Now you’re going to die!” The arrow found its target: the bandit’s heart. He fell to the ground and died. A silence filled the air for a moment. The child walked towards the bandit’s corpse and tried to take his sword. It was too heavy for him, so he dropped it. He took his arrow and began to walk towards the mountains.

“Wait!” Dar’fur called after him. “Are you going to the mountains?”

He stopped. “Yes. I have nowhere else to go. Why?”

“Would you like to come with me? It would make it easier for both of us to travel together.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going into the mountains to find my father.”

“Your father?”

Dar’fur told him everything he knew about his father and awaited the child’s final answer.

“Yes. I’ll help you. By the way, my name’s Eiron.”

So they set out towards the mountains, together.

To be continued…

Subject: Re: Maela the Salamander May 23rd 2008, 8:20 pm

Fantastic! Great job, Soul Hunter!

Guest

Finally, I've finished III and IV!

“Where is it?” Eiron whispered.

“There,” replied Dar’fur, pointing at a mountain goat. He strung an arrow onto his bow and aimed. “I’ll shoot it at a different angle. When I fire my arrow, release yours.” Eiron nodded and Dar’fur began walking slowly from rock to rock for cover. Dar’fur had reached a decent location and fired his arrow at the goat. The arrow missed by less than a foot and the goat began to run, but Eiron’s arrow flew into the animal’s front leg, causing it to topple over. It was still alive, so Maela, (who had been on top of a small rock close to the animal), killed it using a Pain Burst.

Dar’fur, Eiron and Maela had spent two days climbing the mountain, but they expected a few more days to get to the top. Their supplies were running very low; one tent, (the other was left behind in a Mountain Slime raid), barely enough food for two meals, about a dozen arrows to share, (many lost in the raid), their bows, a dagger, two pieces of parchment, one incomplete map that had practically no use and a quarter of a bottle of ink. They had decided to set up a camp and rest for a day. Eiron wanted to rest for two to three days, but Dar’fur disagreed, saying that even one day was too long.

Dar’fur ran to the corpse, thanked Maela, and tried to drag the corpse to camp. Eiron arrived and lifted the other side of the goat so that they could carry it.
“That salamander of yours is getting very powerful. Maybe you should be taking lessons from her,” said Eiron with a grin.

Dar’fur laughed and looked towards Maela, who was sitting on top of the goat’s corpse. “Maybe you should teach me,” he said jokingly. A few seconds of silence passed then she jumped onto the ground and began running around in a path, leaving a trail in the snow. He stopped and looked down at the symbol, in turn making Eiron lose his balance slightly.

“Hey! Why are you stopping?” Eiron asked, regaining balance. “You almost made me drop the goat!”

“Look at this,” Dar’fur answered, signaling towards the symbol.

“Hey, I know that symbol.”

Dar’fur looked at him as if to say, I doubt it.

“I do! It’s the symbol for a Magic Arrow. Hunters in my village use to use it quite commonly.”

Dar’fur looked down to the symbol, then at Eiron. “Set the goat down. I need to copy this.” He took out one of the remaining parchments and the ink and copied the symbol. He looked at it, judging it and thinking, I wonder what Gar’thor will think when I show him this.

“Umm, Dar’fur?” Eiron yelled.

“What?” he called back. Just then, he realized he was yelling. A heavy wind had picked up, making it hard to hear. A small piece of hail fell, hitting the goat and making a light thudding sound. Then another, hitting Eiron, then another, almost crushing Maela. Before they knew it, a blizzard had blown over their head and they were scrambling for cover. Maela was screaming, Eiron was running around, (in what looked like searching, but Dar’fur knew it was fear), and Dar’fur was running towards a cave, yelling. “Over here!”

*****

A few hours later, Eiron peeked out of the cave. “I think the storm’s over.”
Dar’fur looked out. “Good.” He stepped out of the cave and looked around at the mountain. “I think we need to keep moving.”

“Our supplies are running dangerously low. We need to stay and restock.”
Dar’fur looked at the destroyed camp further down the mountain. “I suppose, but it will take too long.”

“How about we go ask them?” he said, pointing to a pillar of smoke further up the face of the mountains. They began to pack up the few things they had left: bows, a few arrows, a dagger, and the parchment with the symbol. It seemed like everything else was lost in the blizzard, including the goat corpse.

*****

On the way, they fought three Mountain Slimes and two Snow Slimes. They also found a deserted bandit stash, but only a few odd metal coins were in it. They took the coins in case they needed them. It was nearly sundown by the time they reached the village, and they were starving. They remained outside of the village for a few moments as Maela conjured a fire to warm them and they heard a yell. “Hello?”

Dar’fur stood up, bow ready but not aimed. “Who’s there?” It had become too dark to see the Sizner who called, but they could see that he had a spear.

“I’m a guard of this village, Snowhaven. Who are you?”

“I am Dar’fur, and this is my friend, Eiron. We come seeking my father, who was lost in these mountains long ago.”

“You won’t find him here. This village is considered cursed; No one comes here.”

Dar’fur unstrung the arrow from his bow and stood in a more passive manner. “Why is this place cursed?”

“This village has been attacked continuously by the Cult of Shadows for years. We have kept the village well protected, but recently, more powerful creatures and cultists are attacking us.”

Dar’fur looked to Maela, who was now sitting on his shoulder. She let out an, “eep,” and he knew what he was to do. “Can you provide us food and shelter for the night?” he shouted to the guard.

“I can provide shelter, but we have no spare food. You’ll need to buy some. Do you have any coins?”

Dar’fur was about to answer no, but then thought about the coins in the bandit stash. “I believe so.”

“Good. Gather your things and follow me,” the guard replied.

Dar’fur and Eiron quickly gathered the pack in which they carried their possessions and followed the guard into the village.

*****

In the morning, Dar’fur and Eiron awoke on straw pallet in a small stone room. The guard, whose name was Oir’yar, had given them one of the spare guards’ rooms in the barracks. They spread their possessions around the small room the previous night and then collapsed onto the pallets, glad to have somewhere to sleep other than the freezing snow-covered ground outside. When they awoke, Dar’fur gathered the six coins and Eiron found the dagger. They left their room and began to head out of the barracks. When they opened the heavy wooden door, they saw at least two-dozen Sizner practicing with spears, swords or daggers. The two children made their way through the training grounds and headed for the market when Oir’yar caught them.

“Where are you two going?”

Eiron spoke up, “To the market. We need supplies,”

Dar’fur showed Oir’yar the coins and he became wide-eyed. “Where did you get these?”

“We found them off a road in a deserted bandit stash,” Dar’fur replied.

“You just found these? Do you know how much those are worth?” the guard asked. Obviously, it was more than he earned for guarding for a few weeks.

“No,” Eiron said before Dar’fur could.

“Do not let any of those merchants try to trick you. One of those can buy you a lot of food, at least a hundred apples. How you came across six, I don’t know, but use them wisely.”

Dar’fur and Eiron nodded and then continued to the market.

*****

“How many apples can we get for this?” Dar’fur asked a merchant behind an apple stand while holding one of the coins up.

“About ten,” he said hiding his surprise at the sight of the coin.

“Nice try, but our friend told us about a hundred,” Eiron said to the merchant.

The apple-salesman looked disappointed, but smiled and then spoke. “Did this friend tell you how the complete money system works here?”

Eiron and Dar’fur looked at each other then back at the merchant. “No,” they said.

“Well, what you have here is a Quar. One Quar can get you eight Slas. Each Sla, a hundred Chaens. When you trade a coin that’s worth more for many that are worth less, we call it cutting. So, I’ll give you fifty apples at five Chaens each, and give you a Sla and fifty Chaens. Sound fair?”

The merchant had said all of this very quickly, but Dar’fur had kept track and it did sound fair. So, Dar’fur accepted and they ended up with a couple of baskets full of apples. They headed off to another stand, but this one for cheese, then another for bread, and another for meat. They had to get the help of some of the guards down at the barracks to help them carry all of the baskets back. When they had finished, they had well past a half-year’s supply, but only had little more than a Quar left.

As Dar’fur was carrying the last basket to the barracks, he noticed a stand with piece of parchment hanging from the ceiling of it. He handed the basket to Eiron and walked over to the stand. “You’re welcome!” Eiron yelled to Dar’fur as he was walking away.

“Hello,” Dar’fur said to the owner of the stand. He was a golden-coated, dull blue-eyed elderly Sizner, and he seemed to be blind.

“Hello child,” replied the blind elder. “Want to learn an alternate language?”

Dar’fur looked at all of the parchments hanging from the ceiling and then saw what they were: translation sheets. One caught his eye: it had a single line across it that looped and bent up and down, almost like a small child would create, but he could tell that the line had meaning.

“Ah, you like that one?” said the blind elder.

Dar’fur wondered to himself how the elder had seen him looking at the sheet, but answered, “Yes.”

That will cost you six Slas.”

Dar’fur gladly paid the price and ran off towards the barracks to examine the sheet he had just purchased.

*****

Later in the day, after Dar’fur had spent a reasonable amount of time trying to understand the translation sheet he purchased, he turned his attention to Maela’s symbol. She had continuously “eep”ed at him earlier to get him to look at him, but he was too engrossed in the language. He and Eiron were planning to test the symbol at the archery range, and it was already beginning to darken outside, so they didn’t have a lot of time before they had to sleep.

After he was confident in his skill to draw the symbol, Dar’fur ran out to the archery range with his bow to see Eiron shooting at the targets. Six out of the eight arrows were stuck in the bull’s eyes of two targets and the other two were inches off.

“Hey, Eiron! Ready to try the Magic Arrow?”

He turned and looked at Dar’fur after shooting another arrow into the bull’s eye of a target. He smiled to say, “yes.”

Dar’fur stepped next to Eiron and began to draw the Magic Arrow symbol in the air. When finished, he snatched the symbol and pulled back the bowstring with his now glowing hand. He aimed and released the shot then stepped back and watched the white glow fly towards the target. It impacted and sunk into the bull’s eye and began to fade, leaving the back end of an arrow visible.

Eiron ran behind the target and looked. “Wow,” Dar’fur heard him say from behind the target.

Dar’fur ran behind it as well and saw the arrowhead sticking out of the back. He stared at the arrowhead for a moment until he heard a strange wind pick up. “Oh no, not another blizzard!” However, he looked to the source of the wind and saw gargantuan shadows marching over the rocks and snow, creeping closer to Snowhaven.

“The Cult of Shadows approaches! Soldiers: collect your weapons!” Eiron and Dar’fur heard Oir’yar yell to the other guards. “Dar’fur, Eiron, get in the barracks.”
Eiron followed his orders, but Dar’fur ran about collecting arrows and daggers, preparing to fight. Eiron turned to see if his friend was following and yelled, “Dar’fur, hurry to the barracks!”

A thick, black fog rolled into the village and shrieks and yells could be heard ringing through the mountains. Dar’fur had no idea what was to come, but he still took up a part in the bowmen. He cast a Magic Arrow and looked to Maela who was crawling up his arm onto his shoulder. “Hello, my friend. Are you ready?”

Maela “eep”ed, and they stood lined up against the massive force of the Cult of Shadows.

To be continued...

Well, there's III.

Guest

Reason for my double-postingness: Posting Part IV!

Maela was shrieking and launching Pain Darts in every direction at unseen enemies of empty blackness. The only way to see a target was to see the bright red eyes, glowing so brightly so that you could see them through the fog. Only a thin line separated the silhouette from the void around it.

Oir’yar was shouting orders to the guards, whose numbers were depleting rapidly. He would occasionally swing his dagger or stab his spear at one of the shadowy monstrosities, killing it. He released battle cries to his fellow troops, encouraging them, but not enough.

Eiron had taken a place in the barracks at the heavy doors with a few of the other elite guards, protecting the civilians while trying to keep them calm. He was currently comforting a mother who had just lost a son while fleeing their home, while shooting quick glances at the door and listening to the howling of the wind outside.

Dar’fur, with two other bowmen and Oir’yar, was firing arrows into the heads and hearts of the Cult’s summoned shadows, having a difficult time protecting his eyes from the wind and still seeing through the dense fog. Maela had been shot off of his shoulder in a brutal blow to his arm by one of the creatures. This wound not only caused his friend to become lost in a battlefield of certain death, but also let blood flow freely out of it. “I’ll be fine!” he shouted to Oir’yar after his suggestion to see Eiron at the barracks.

*****

Shouts from the dying guards filled and echoed throughout the mountains, sending shivers down the spine of Dar’fur. “Maela!” he shouted in between the shooting of arrows. He was using normal arrows due to the lack of time, but when he had the opportunity, he drew the symbol out and used it. He discovered that the Magic Arrow cut through the fog and darkness created by the creatures and Cultists, and they hurt the creatures more than the average arrow.

Soon, only a couple guards remained, all around the barracks’s door. There was Dar’fur with a bow, Oir’yar with a spear and dagger, and two elite guards with bows and small daggers. Suddenly, bursts of fire shot from some of the creatures. Dar’fur shouted in excitement, “Maela!”

He heard an “eep” and let down his guard for a second, taking a massive strike to his already injured arm. It was now ripped to the bone in two places and deep into the flesh in about a dozen others. If he didn’t die from one of these creatures, he knew he would die from blood loss.

The shadowy abominations were falling rapidly, so quickly that within two minutes, there were only three remaining. However, these were the largest. Each had six legs, three on each side of a giant beetle-like body that lifted upward where two arms were located, each with a gargantuan spike on the end of it. The creatures were completely black except for some bloodstains on their claws and legs where they killed many of the Sizner guards.

Dar’fur swung up his arm, pausing shortly because of the pain from his wounds and prepared a Magic Arrow. He shot it, releasing a burst of light in the darkness the illuminated everything around it. The arrow dug into where the creature’s heart would have been and it crashed to the ground, causing a miniature earthquake. Dar’fur shot another arrow, but a painful shock in his arm caused him to shoot into the ground. He looked to his arm and saw rivers of blood flowing out. The child passed out for a few seconds, but fought himself awake and launched a Magic Arrow into the last remaining creature, sending it to the ground.

The fog began to fade; the silhouetted monsters disappeared; the Cultists fled. Oir’yar looked around at the bloody battlefield, and shuddered with sadness at the loss of so many fellow fighters. “They fought bravely and have earned their honor. May their souls rest well, and find a good home.” He crouched down to one of the corpses and closed its eyes. He walked from body to body, closing their eyes. The two other guards joined him and Dar’fur stumbled into the barracks.

Eiron shouted Dar’fur’s name, but then ran to his friend as he fell because of the blood flowing openly out of his wound. “Dar’fur! Dar’fur, don’t die! You were the only friend I had, and the greatest Sizner I will ever know.” Dar’fur passed out listening to Eiron.

*****

Dar’fur grunted. He turned his head and saw a Salamander looking at his face from two feet away. “Eep,” the Salamander said, seeming to smile.

“Hello, Maela,” Dar’fur barely whispered. He looked at his arm, which was in a cast that was heavily bloodied.

“Ah, Dar’fur, you’re awake.” Oir’yar walked into the small, damp, stone room. “We patched your arm up as much as we could-”

“I saw, and thank you, Oir’yar,” Dar’fur interrupted.

Oir’yar continued, “-But I’m afraid that it isn’t enough to stop the bleeding and I fear you won’t live much longer.”

“Wha- What?” Dar’fur stuttered. “But I feel fine!”

“I’m sorry, Dar’fur. I’ll go tell Eiron that you’re awake.” He began to walk away, but stopped and turned before walking out the door. “The others think of you a hero. Leaving your home to find your father; fighting even when hope seemed to be lost; vanquishing the behemoth shadow creatures when no other could; you are a hero.”

“I-,” Dar’fur began to speak, but just said, “Thank you, Oir’yar,” weakly; his voice was giving out because of the shock. Oir’yar walked off and Dar’fur thought of many things; his mission to find his father; his mother who no one here knew; Gar’thor and his student whom Dar’fur disliked, Kelden.

“Eep,” Dar’fur heard from beside him.

“Yes, Maela?” he responded, hiding sadness deep within his voice. The Salamander was standing by his wounded arm and seemed to be casting a spell. When she finished, she “eep,”ed again and looked to the bandages, implying to take them off. Dar’fur felt only a small amount of pain as he unwrapped bandages. As he took off the last of the cloth, he saw an arm; there were no bones showing, no open flesh or even puddles of blood. He saw his arm was fully healed.

Dar’fur jumped up in excitement and picked his savior up off of the ground and threw her straight into the air, causing her to scream in a very high-pitched voice. Dar’fur caught her and set her down. He calmed himself and then said, “Thank you, Maela. You have saved my life yet again.”

Just then, Eiron walked into the room with a tear-stained face, obviously from the news of his friend’s soon-to-come death. When he saw Dar’fur’s healed arm, he ceased his sobbing immediately and ran into the room, now with a shocked look. “What? How? Who?” he stammered.

Dar’fur looked at Eiron, smiled, then looked at Maela.

“She did this?” Eiron said, in a mix of happiness and surprise.

“Yes, Maela healed my arm. It still hurts a little when I move it, but I do believe that I’m going to live,” Dar’fur replied.

“That’s amazing!” Eiron shouted.

“What’s amazing?” Oir’yar said from behind him, stepping into the cramped room. His reaction to the arm was almost the same as Eiron’s, but without the shouting. Eiron and Oir’yar left the room to let Dar’fur rest more. That’s when Dar’fur had another dream.

*****

“Dar’fur! I can’t last much longer. These creatures are getting more and more powerful every day. I fear that within the next week, they will be unstoppable,” Dar’fur’s father spoke to him. They were in a cave on what seemed to be the other side of the mountain, or further up. Outside, a blizzard was pounding the ground with hail and snow.

“I’m coming for you, father, and I’ll kill any demon that stands in my way,” Dar’fur responded, meaning what he said.

“That won’t be possible. The creatures are too strong for me to kill them already. I can only push them back. Even Maela wouldn’t be powerful enough to kill them.”

“But-,” Dar’fur began only to have his surroundings fade away. His father disappeared, but he still said, “I will find you and bring you home, even if I need to accomplish the impossible.”

*****

“I’m sorry, Dar’fur, but I can’t go.” Dar’fur presented his idea of them leaving to Eiron, but Eiron said that he could not leave the village. “I need to help them rebuild. You go on.” He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Besides, you’ve still got Maela.” He made a signal towards the Salamander sitting upon Dar’fur’s shoulder.
She “eep,”ed, then Dar’fur spoke. “I suppose you’re right.” He turned to gather his supplies, but was stopped.

“You did well, child.” Oir’yar said.

Dar’fur nodded and continued to his bag. When he collected it, he turned and spoke to the two Sizner who stood behind him, and spoke. “I will return someday, my friends. I promise you both that.”

With that, Dar’fur began his walk through the village and further up the mountain.

*****

When Dar’fur lost sight of Snowhaven, he searched through his bag to see what he had to use. A powerful short bow, a dozen perfectly crafted arrows, six pieces of parchment with a piece of thin charcoal, extra clothing, apples, cheese, some meat, and a Quar. Dar’fur smiled at the coin that Eiron put in his bag, and repacked his bag. The sun was near to setting and Dar’fur needed to find a cave or empty patch of dirt where he could sleep for the night. Maela “eep,”ed at one point, just as the sun was setting, looking towards a well placed, deep cave, perfect for the night. They snuck into the hole in the mountain and set up a fire and small pallet of dirt and grass.

Before he slept, Dar’fur practiced his Magic Arrow and got two arrows stuck in the wall, which Maela managed to get out using Rock Shifting. Dar’fur tried to find a spot on Maela to put the symbol, but she already had Pain Dart, Pain Burst, Fire Burst, Magic Arrow, and Healing on her, and he didn’t have any ink, so he just went to sleep.

Maela, however, explored around the cave and found something of interest. It looked like a Snow Slime, but much darker and much larger. She ran up to the top of it and began to fall asleep when it moved. She opened her eyes suddenly, but quickly lost interest and began to fall asleep again. It moved again. Maela was getting very annoyed, so she started to crawl off of the giant moving glob, but was launched away when it shook very violently.

She screamed, awakening Dar’fur. “What is it, Maela?” he asked her, his eyes still unfocused from being woken up. He caught a glimpse at the Shadow Slime and spoke quietly. “Oh.”

To be continued...

So, Parts III and IV... Thoughts? Opinions? Questions? Useless comments?

Subject: Re: Maela the Salamander November 2nd 2008, 5:25 pm

Amazing! Simply amazing! You write stories so well its not even funny. I was actually kinda curious.. How did the Sizner Tribe come to be?

Guest

I've been told that so many times already by so many people already, but thank you. This story was started as a school project last year and just grew from that... I turned in Parts III and IV for an assignment this year and got a 100. (Yay!)

Well, the Sizner were are actually a race I made a couple years ago, out of mainly boredom. They're a race of humanoid lizard/snakes who live in tribes. They have tough scales of the coloration of their environment and eyes that are normally the same color, but different shade. They have a tail, two arms, two legs, one head...

They are skilled in combat, but try to live in peace. There hierarchy is as follows: a hereditary chieftain, three elders, who are chosen by the chieftain, then shamans, then a warlord, then the warriors, then everyone else. Most can survive on their own, because they are trained for survival in their early years.

This is only a brief description; I have a 3-4 page document on them somewhere... Anyway, hope that answered your question.