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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

The Last Guardians


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I've never showed this to anyone but my brother. I figured I could post Chapter One of Book One, and if anyone is interested I'll post another chapter, et cetera.

 

The Prophecy

 

Early spring. It is a dark forest, the trees still bare and the nights still cold. The sun has set. No sound is heard. Not the rustle of a rodent, or the chirping of a cricket. No such life exists here. The Black Forest is in slow decay.

 

One sound breaks through the silence: a child's crying. Soft, uneasy, disturbed. Alone.

 

The baby is two years old, undernourished and uneducated; a slow developer. As her second birthday had come, and she had still not spoken a word, her parents decided she wasn't worth the effort. What poor merchant can afford a daughter with no strength and no intelligence?

 

Now the baby is moaning and clasping an old blanket tightly, being hungry and afraid as a quarter moon sheds its weak, silver light through the black branches. Claw-like twigs wave in the air above her, silent and ominous.

 

A female wolf pads through the shadows, dark gray in color, with bright green eyes and a bandit's mask. She is looking for a meal and finding nothing. The game has been hard to find in the late week, and the guardians are scavenging individually. This one comes upon the baby, eyes instantly lighting up with interest.

 

The wolf does not much like the smell. Superstitious and fearful, man has burned the forest many a time in hopes of wiping out the legends, monsters, and curses fabled to live here. However, their attempts seemed only to make the problems worse, and the guardians ever more protective of their home.

 

At the sight of the wolf, the little girl stops crying. A dark, pointed nose moves in to inspect her, and the baby squeals with a faint smile. Small, stubby fingers reach for a rough ear and tug playfully.

 

The wolf tears away, studying the human child for a moment. As the intelligent eyes survey the helpless body, anger evaporates to be replaced by hopeful awe. She can remember stories about a quiet one, preparing the way. Pausing, the wolf and baby look at one another curiously. Then, the guardian moves in to clamp her jaws over the ragged little blanket and gently pull.

 

The baby teeters to her feet, holding onto the other end of the rag. She follows her new friend deeper and deeper into the forest. One is slow and clumsy, the other swift and silent. Patiently, the wolf stops to allow the child to regain balance. It can barely walk.

 

They come to a rocky hill, where other wolves are lounging. The alfa raises his nose to the air, stands, and growls. His one good eye shines green in the moonlight, focusing an intense gaze upon the baby. His mate shelters the human underneath the rough, warm fur of her belly, looking to the alfa with a fiery hope.

 

As the alpha and his niece converse, the pack watches with similar mixed feelings, and a pair of owls creep across a tree branch to listen. Their chicks stare out of the hollow, unblinking. The human baby is the only one oblivious to the controversial statements being made about her. Everyone else is aware of the risks, and disagreeing on whether the risk of believing is worth it.

 

A bold black wolf with a white star seems skeptical, hanging at the edge of the group. He argues that it seems unlikely their prophecy would be fulfilled by a human, and in any rate, the one to go before had not yet appeared. Some agree. Some rebuke the young wolf for his arrogance. The alpha nods that the black is correct, and that is the end of the argument.

 

Now the question is, what are they to do with her? They know there are others who know more of such things, good humans with better knowledge for care of their own kind. But they live miles away, over a mountain even. Only one, the black wolf, is willing to go so far, but he is not yet old enough to make the journey alone.

 

Being a rough but compassionate people, the wolf guardians come to the conclusion that they have no choice but to keep the human. Ah, if only human guardians still existed. The owl neighbors point out that if they keep the child, she will become a human guardian, and may yet serve to bring the prophecy about.

 

 

So it came that the baby was raised in the dark under the protection of the forest guardians. It was even harder than they had supposed. She grew tired and usually slept by night, too slow for the hunt and not particularly fond of their food. But the guardians were patient folk, especially the she-wolf who had originally found her. She only loved her more for it, and showed the girl to good berries and roots that the wolves only sometimes ate. The girl learned quickly.

 

The girl did remember something of her life across the muddy lands, as the pack spoke with her often about it. But she didn't trust the villagers any more than they did. In years to come, when the men would return, it would be a day of fire.

 

That day came sooner than any would have liked. Before the forest could be set ablaze, the adventuring men discovered a thin, lanky girl watching them from the brush. She could speak, yet heard voices which escaped their ears. It angered them. It frightened them.

 

She was overpowered and carried out of the trees to the marsh. She scratched and fought the whole way like a cougar, screaming her name to them and telling them what it meant--- of the forest. Chosen. Never to be taken away. The men laughed, though afraid, and called her mad. They rowed away with her. She watched in agony as the forest burned, listening to the agonized voices of her friends.

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Gahh! Stupid disks that think they need formatting!!! Okay so, I'll have to check and see if I got the edited version saved on my computer. If not, I'll have to burn it from the stupid computer that doesn't even have a working floppy drive, and edit it again. I can't tell you how many times this has happened to me...

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Shanai

 

Billowing clouds hooded the stars. Lightening tore down the sky, illuminating for one moment the blades of long grass that rippled across the farmland. Torrents of rain splashed in a cobblestone courtyard and against the three-story cottage before it. On the highest level, cold but secure beneath the dripping thatch roof, slept the slaves.

 

A tall young woman had taken her time in rolling out of bed, as soon as she was certain that everyone else was asleep. Thin and pale, dark black hair chopped short, Shanai took one last look at her only friend in this evil world--- Adella.

 

When Shanai had first come to the farm as a slave, everyone had been afraid of her, even her new master. But Adella had been kind. Adella had given her a chance. Now, without a good-bye, Shanai was leaving. She had to. The caravans arrived from the Desert in the morning. With them came cloth, oil, riches, and numerous slaves, some for sale and some for the camels. The caravan left with food, water, and new slaves. Shanai was destined to be one of them.

 

Quiet feet moved down the rickety stairs, making less sound than a spirit. Then the door opened and the air grew colder. She he was charging through the rain across the courtyard. Slippery stones failed to hinder her.

 

Inside the stable, the sweet smell of wood chips, spring rain, and alfalfa hay drifted lazily through the air. A leak in the ceiling dripped onto a pair of gray work horses, who blinked sleepily when Shanai lit a lantern. Brickets raised his creamy head and grunted, stomping his hooves on the stall floor.

 

"Whoa there," the girl murmured darkly, depositing a looped rope into her pouch.

 

Brickets was a wild thing. She had made him so on purpose. Now, that little act of treachery could easily backfire. A peal of thunder crackled outside. High-strung, Brickets arced his neck and whinnied long and loud. Only the snarling sky could drown the enraged horse's scream. Hooves pawed the bed of his stall. Mane tossed indignantly.

 

Shanai sighed and fastened the pouch to her side.

 

When she led Brickets to the door, he braced his legs and jerked to a stop. The stallion looked out at the storm, and snorted. Shanai pulled at the reins with all her strength, but he flattened his ears and stood his ground like a mule, refusing to budge.

 

Shanai sighed angrily and climbed into the old saddle. Bending over the horse's neck and trying to breathe evenly, she waited for the next pulse of lightening. When it came, she kicked viciously and slapped his hindquarters. Brickets screamed as if wild, bolting out into the storm.

 

She held to his mane tightly, moving with the body beneath her. Shanai could feel fear and anger radiating from his wet coat as he galloped across the cobblestones. Ahead stood the towering boundary wall, black vines curled over steady old stone. Brickets would never take the jump. He hated jumps. One pace away, the horse stopped short, nearly kneeling in an effort to get Shanai off of his back. She didn't slip, but jerked the reins so that he stood.

 

A dim light glimmered in the window; the farmer was lighting his lamp. Brickets trotted toward the stable. Shanai turned him, and then jolted him toward the wall again. She urged with all her might, digging her heels into his sides. Eyes wild with fear and anger, the horse gained speed, felt her weight shift suddenly, and took the cue to jump.

 

They sailed in a rush of wind. The lantern shattered against the wall and blew out. Shanai sucked in her breath in sudden panic. The horse felt her fear and twisted, landing clumsily on the ground beyond the wall.

 

The steed knelt in the mud. He snorted. Shanai yanked the reigns again, and he pulled himself together. They disappeared into the darkness, heading for the deep muddy bogs which stood between the road and their destination. Lightening streaked above them. The horse balked. White light made their figures appear and disappear once more. Then, they were gone.

 

 

 

IT WAS A NEVER-ENDING STRUGGLE through the marshes, but by early morning, they were deep into the trees. Shanai tethered Brickets to a stake in the earth, and made a fire. She built some props from fallen branches, drying her outer clothing and Brickets' tack beside the flames. Curling up as near to the fire as possible, she tried to get dry. Shanai hoped she wasn't sick. It had been hard enough finding dry wood.

 

As she rested, she whispered, I'm free a few times. I'm home. It didn't feel that way, however. The old had gone, but the new had come with mysterious speed, as if these trees had been here for decades. She thought of the fire seven years ago. It had been the biggest anyone could recall; but then, how often were there survivors to recall such things?

 

Were there any guardians left? Or had she dreamed them all?

 

 

 

SHANAI DIDN'T REALIZE that he saw her. He looked to his partner and back to the human encamped. She was a trespasser. Only one, but that didn't excuse her in the slightest.

 

"What does it want?" Webki asked, a little above and to the right.

 

"It seems to be hiding," Ash replied, turning back to watch the fire through the bushes. He examined the newcomer's scent.

 

 

 

SHANAI STARED AT THE DIRT, listening to the forest around her. Her keen brown eyes studied the pine needles, not revealing that she heard voices in the trees.

 

"It senses something. Stay hushed."

 

"Perhaps it can hear us through magic," said the gruff voice, which was lowered to a whisper. "Some set up forces around themselves..."

 

"Who's out there?" Shanai called.

 

"It cannot see us," said the creamy voice. "Don't move."

 

"I can hear you fools talking!" Shanai huffed. "Show yourselves!"

 

The bushes parted. A graceful gray figure passed through the thorns without a scratch, moving into the light of the fire, green eyes shining. Long ears were pricked toward her with calm fascination. A fluttering rose above in the branches before a small tan figure gently circled down to land on the wolf's head.

 

"You can... hear us?" asked the wolf in a smooth whisper.

 

"Ashlang the wolf," Shanai said. Her disbelief was obvious. The last time she had seen him, he had only been a soft, round pup. She looked at the owl for a moment before continuing, "I cannot say that I ever met I you."

 

The wolf's eyes rolled up toward the owl, which bent over his brows in agreement. The owl craned his neck to look at her, then said faintly, "She has the gift!" Apparently, they felt equal incredulity.

 

Shanai leaned over the fire only a little, showing a rare display of earnestness. "Ash. Don't you remember me?"

 

The creatures exchanged glances again. "Shanai?"

 

She felt a brief smile flood her face before it wavered. "Yes! I came back."

 

"I am glad."

 

The owl spread his wings as a gesture of respect. "I am Webki."

 

"It is an honor to make the acquaintance of a bird once more," Shanai said. "Where are the other guardians?"

 

Ash spoke slowly, lying down in front of the fire. "There is much to be said."

Edited by Jareena Faye
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