Archive for June 28th, 2008
Backyard Harbor and Rio Samba
June 28th, 2008 Posted 9:08 pm
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Posted in Art, Paintings, Photography
Madren’s Choice (The Beginning)
June 28th, 2008 Posted 10:44 am
(Remember the original Madren’s Choice? Well, this is the beginning. It might make things a little clearer, but don’t read the other one unless you want to know what happens in the end before you find out what’s happening now. More will be added later.)
“It seems like such a terrible waste,” Madren said, “of such a beautiful day.”
Her sister, Mara, brushed a piece of gray hair out of her eyes. “Well if you would work faster, we’d be done quicker.”
“Spoil sport,” Madren said, bending over to pick some more weeds out of the family vegetable garden. “What’s got you tied in knots?”
“I don’t want to be stuck doing chores any more than you do,” Mara said.
Madren smiled. “You told Sam you’d be there at three didn’t you?”
Mara looked up quickly. “Don’t let mom know!”
Madren pulled up a small tree that was growing in the yard and pretended to ignore her sister. Mara just sighed and continued raking. She was two years older than Madren and the oldest girl in the family. Her hair was charcoal silver, but her eyes were an electric blue and very striking.
“When do you think these tomatoes will actually grow?” Mara asked, incredulously. “They’ve been flowering for months with no fruit!”
“Pretty soon. That one has a little green—”
Madren was cut off by a loud boom behind her and both girls dropped their things and turned to the noise. The screams of people and livestock along with yelling filled their quiet neighborhood. Smoke rose up from a house on the hill and the commotion was easily seen from their position below. Madren and Mara hopped their small log fence and ran to help.
It was unclear what was going on and people were running back and forth shouting out orders and shoving buckets of water on the cottage. The lady of the house was running towards the town hall with her children, while her husband and other men who were around tried to put out the fire. Madren saw her brother and their father running back and forth from the stream in their field to the house. Even their youngest brother, Jacob, who was only ten years old, was struggling under the weight of a full water bucket. Madren ran to grab an empty bucket, but her eldest brother grabbed her wrist before she could fill it up.
“Elix, what’s happening?” she asked.
“Probably just an accidental fire. But stay with mom in case there are raiders.”
Mara caught up to them and put her hand gently on Madren’s shoulder.
“Take Jacob with you,” Elix ordered before another crack of the collapsing house sent him running back with a full bucket.
Suddenly there was another crash and crack farther in towards town. Madren turned her back on it and ran to her house, with Mara close behind carrying Jacob. Someone yelled out “raiders” before Madren and Mara had reached the house. Jacob was crying.
Madren shut the door and locked it, breathing a sigh of relief, but Mara was already searching the ground floor for their mother.
“Mom?” Mara called out. Silence answered her call. Mara crept upstairs towards their bedroom. Madren heard her sister call out again, her voice trembling. Jacob started sobbing louder.
There was a crash of glass from another house nearby; the loud noise made Madren jump and Mara quickly descended the steps to the ground floor.
“They’ve started burning the barn,” she said. She could barely keep her voice in control.
“Let’s go down to the cellar,” Madren suggested and ran with her sister to the stairs in the kitchen. They had gotten the door shut just in time for their kitchen door to slammed open sending hundreds of dishes on a shelf crashing to the floor. These people were laughing and their voices were low. The humans went through her house, crashing things to the ground and pulling down tapestries off the wall.
Jacob was too terrified to do anything and he sat in Mara’s arms staring at the wall over her shoulder. Mara moved silently and quickly behind their jam shelf and sat down on the floor. Madren quickly followed her. They listened to the noise above their heads in silence.
“Stupid elves,” someone standing next to the door shouted.
“Ah, but they have the best mead,” another answered. The group laughed and banged through the kitchen some more. Madren could feel her heart beating in her throat as she prayed they wouldn’t come down to the cellar. She heard the heavy footsteps of the men go upstairs and other leave to terrorize other areas. She could hear malicious laughter outside with the sudden cracks of burning wood and incessant screams. She could almost taste the blood and she realized she was biting her lip hard enough to make it bleed. Mara was pale, but calm and strong. She rocked Jacob back and forth gently.
Finally the men left and the roar of fire was almost gone. Madren tentatively climbed the stairs. She knew Mara was too scared to object. But just as she reached the door, there was a blinding flash. She could feel the color green and then, her eyes saw black. She opened her eyelids.
Nothing had changed. She looked around. The jars were still full on the shelves and nothing had collapsed. Outside, it was bright and sunny. The village was quiet and still. There were no more screams or crashing and silence filled the space.
“I’m going to look around, Mara,” she said. Madren opened the door and stepped into her kitchen. She dodged broken bottles and shattered dishes to glance out the window to what it really looked like outside.
The ground was covered in blood and ash. She couldn’t see who was killed, but the human men who had raided her village were carrying several bodies towards the center of town where she assumed they would set up a burial pyre. Her stomach tightened. The elves believed in reincarnation and the worst anybody could do for the dead was to cremate them.
She was about to head back to the cellar when the door into her kitchen burst open again.
“Hey!” a tall, auburn haired man called out. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be dead.”
Madren turned to run, but he grabbed her arm and a fluid motion, slung her over his shoulder.
“The General will sure be happy to see this little squirmer.”
She smacked him with her fists hard, but he didn’t seem to notice. He brought her past dozens of houses towards the center of town. She saw shops burnt and livestock killed in the ensuing fight. She tried not to cry and focused on the ground at the man’s feet. Even the grass was completely gone and there was nothing left but barren earth.
When he set her down she saw that the town hall had been kept in tact, but there were scorch marks on the outside of the building. The bodies of the town’s inhabitants were piled next to it, in front of the blacksmith’s shop. Smoke barreled out of the latter building, a sign she knew as a burning forge. One of the guards saw her and laughed at her before motioning for another person to join him. He whispered his orders before letting the second man go and crouched down to her level.
“Don’t know how you slipped past,” he said starting to tie her hands with rope. She kicked him in the jaw and he fell backwards. Suddenly she was grabbed by at least half a dozen other people all pulling her in separate directions.
“Fiesty one, huh?”
She couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but she felt herself dropped and as she looked ahead again caught eyes with someone who was obviously in charge. He looked down at her and turned his head and spit.
“Alive? That’s not right.” He kicked her hard in the ribs.
“Maybe, the Lady’s—”
“Don’t finish that sentence if you want to live,” the General said. The recruit who started the statement stepped back quickly to the ranks.
“Call the Lady over here and tell her it’s an emergency,” the General said. “Now what to do with you,” he said stepping over Madren so he could seem taller. She shot out her tied legs into his shin.
He laughed. “Nice try, you worm, but I’m not as weak as my captain.”
He smacked her across the face.
“What in the world is going on here?!” A woman on a silver white horse came galloping into the clearing. Her slanted eyes were tiger-lily orange and she wore a rather tight green leather armor. Her hair was blood red and was pulled up into a rather large bun. Protruding from her back were two large butterfly wings, which rustled in the small breeze.
“One of my men found someone alive in the houses, my lady.”
“Pah,” the woman led her horse forward. “All this trouble because of a live one.”
“You had your promises.”
“I intend to keep them, if you keep yours. Continue stacking bodies and then we’ll deal with this one special.”
“You ugly spider!” Madren yelled. Everyone turned to her, some of the men close to laughter. Madren knew the fae loved their looks and even the best among them were terribly vain. Looking at this beautiful butterfly woman, it was the only thing Madren could think of to really sting. The woman on the horse turned bright red.
“You little maggot!”
“The same to you, mirror breaker.”
The woman raised her hand and smacked the air. “That’ll teach you to sling insults at an upper fae.”
“You—” Madren croaked and coughed. Her throat seized up and suddenly, became still. She tried to speak, but the words weren’t being formed and all the breath she pushed past her voice box became colomns of air.
“That witch,” the upper fae said, spraying the ground with spit from her pronunciation. “Burn her alive.”
But just as one of the near soldiers reached forward to grab Madren there was a gunshot. Everyone paused and in the following stillness the recruit that reached to grab her fell. Madren followed the line of motion, her heart beating fast. In the sudden silence, the fae had disappeared along with her silver steed.
The General recovered first and turned towards the noise. “Ah, Mr. Aberdeen. Nice of you to arrive.” His voice dripped with superficial politeness and sarcasm.
“Thank you, General.” The man was tall and cloaked. His gun disappeared quickly into the folds of his robe as he walked forward into the circle. His eyes were dark jade and his hair a chestnut brown. He glanced down at Madren before helping her to a standing position.
“What do you think you’re doing?” someone yelled from the middle of the ranks.
“Taking what the General owes me,” the stranger said.
“You idiot,” the General said. “What makes you think you can barge in here and take this one? I’ve got orders to kill every last person in this stupid town and you’re not going to cause me to lose my head.”
The stranger laughed. “Tell your employer one won’t make a difference in her calculations. But if you prefer, I could tell the gremlins you’ve been denying them payment for that favor they gave you.”
The General cringed ever so slightly. “You! Cut her bonds,” he ordered. The stranger stood where he was. “I hope you realize I’m putting my life on the line.”
“You should have remembered that before you made pacts with gremlins.”
The General scoffed and waved his soldiers to continue salvaging for bodies. The stranger pushed Madren in front of him and continued walking down the road leading to the town. They walked until the day turned to dusk and Madren’s feet were cramping. She tried to get the stranger’s attention, but her voice wouldn’t work for her. Suddenly he pulled her off the road and through the forest to a large pine tree. He lifted up the bottom branches and pulled out his backpack. Then glancing at Madren’s weary expression, he sighed and broke of a couple of branches near the bottom of the tree in order to make room for them underneath it.
“Sit down,” he said. Madren followed his orders. He pulled out food from his pack and handed her a small portion.
“First I want to make it clear that whether you like it or not you’re property. Ever since your village has been sacked. Now, you belong to me so you’ll follow no ones orders but my own. Got it?”
Madren nodded.
“Don’t speak until spoken to and you’re going to sleep outside the shelter. I’ll feed you, but if you can catch game, all the better.”
Madren stayed silent. She ached everywhere especially when she realized that this man who had saved her was no better than the General and his higher fae. At least, she thought, he wasn’t going to kill her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked breaking her thoughts. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
He reached over to pull her chin closer. “Hmmm. That’s what I thought.” He chuckled. “You must’ve gotten Lilly very angry indeed. Never insult a higher fae.”
Madren rolled her eyes.
“Well, we might as well start lessons. You’re going to learn to speak through telepathy. If you want to know how it works, ask a wizard. All I know is it’s very useful if you don’t want anyone to eavesdrop.” He chuckled at his own joke.
“The technique is called Ped-ore,” he continued. “Have you heard of it?”
Madren shook her head.
“I’m not surprised. Just think of a sentence.”
Ok. I’m cold, she thought.
“You’re not thinking it hard enough. Everything you say has an emotion and when you’re just starting those emotions have to be strong to come through. Try again.”
I’m freezing! she thought. She pulled the frozen pain from her toes and fingers and tried to add the worn out feeling in her legs and feet.
You’re what? His voice echoed through her head. She shook it violently and thought again.
I’m cold.
Oh. Well too bad, he returned. He turned towards the base of the tree and leaned against it. Go to sleep.
Madren tried to roll up in ball to conserve her body heat. She could barely feel her nose and she wondered why it was so cold.
Because we’re getting into Northern territory, her companion said. The higher fae of this land is Shannondoa and she’s an ice fae. Not quite as angry as Lilly, but don’t go insulting her.
I didn’t think you’d eavesdrop, Madren returned bitterly. But he didn’t seem to hear her.
Go to sleep and don’t worry about it.
Madren tried to use the leaves as cover, but it didn’t seem to work. Slowly, she let her natural instincts down and drifted off to freezing sleep.
Posted in End of Childhood, Fantasy, Fiction Prose, God Teacher, Hero Cycle

