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~~Writing
Workshop Anthology~~ |
| Fall
Term 2007 Writing Workshop - Characters |
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This tree was where Chris and Ida used to always hang out. At first, Ida had gotten her father to get some people to build her a nice, roomy, tree house in the tree. From there things grew, and there were now several tree houses amongst the trees around the original tree. These tree houses were where Chris and Ida had stashed various things. They always had food and water in their tree houses, but they also had several changes of clothes, bags, matches, candles, lanterns, and various other things. "Found it!" Ida called out to Chris. In an instant he was there, by her side "You first, seeing as I'm wearing a dress" she said. Chris climbed up their ladder and lit a few candles. Ida then began to climb up the ladder. She went a lot slower then normally, mostly due to the long dress she wore. When she reached the top she said "I swear, dresses will never be practical!" Soon enough they were each in their own tree house getting out of their nice clothes and into regular clothes. As always, it was a contest between who could get changed first. Chris called out "Done!" two minutes before Ida could finish getting changed. They proceeded
to go to their main "house" in their trees. This particular
house was larger then the rest. It had several bookshelves filled with
books, two desks, some sketch pads were in a corner, and maps laid on
top of the desks. They walked through several tree houses until they reached one that faced east. There they proceeded to climb down the ladder into the dark woods below. They then turned around and faced the tree house and held the lantern they had up. A small door appeared in the light, and Ida opened it up. Behind the door were two backpacks, and some extra lanterns. Ida picked up one backpack at a time and put them behind there. Before shutting the door she picked out a lantern. By the time she stood up Chris already had put on a backpack, and she put on the remaining backpack. They set out in
a direction they figured was east. As they walked, they began to talk
about what had gone on at the party, before Ida sister, Tera, had been
allowed to attend. "I still can't believe that my mother hid my
sketch pad from me. She's never done that before" It was Chris's
turn to start laughing. At that point Ida deemed it was a good time
to start walking forward again. It took a minute before Chris realized
she had started walking again, so he caught up before even attempting
to start the conversation again. They Trekked on, laughing about various things that went on at the party as they climbed over rocks and trees that had fallen. Every so often Chris would pull out the compass and the map to check that they were going in the right place. They soon got to a clearing and sat down. As they started to get some water out of their backpacks they heard some bushes rustling to to their left, so they dropped their bags, stood up, and hid behind a tree. A man, who wasn't easily distinguished in the light, stepped out into the clearing. "Chris" he said "and Ida. I know you're here, and you don't have very long until mom gets together a search party." Ida stepped out
of the clearing "Thanks Adam," she said "how did the
party go?"
The house was dark. All of the candles had burned out hours ago. Shadows plagued the corners where the pale moonlight could not reach. Outside Yoro stood, facing a window. He was rather tall, with long, wispy white hair and deep black eyes. He had a horn, long and pearly white protruding from his forehead and a wispy white tail. He was naked, with the exception of a pair of soft white pants and two golden slippers. Yoro was a healer, and the son of a wood nymph and a unicorn. In the moonlight he became his mother, the form of a nymph while under the eyes of the sun he was a beast of the forest, lost to hide from humans until the sunset. Inside the room of the little girl with red hair was just as black, but as Yoro eased open the window a cascade of moonbeams slipped over the scrubbed elder floors and onto the great elm bed where the girl slept, wrapped in a thick blue quilt. Yoro’s soft golden slippers made no sound as he walked quickly up to the bed and looked down at her. His soft black eyes widened for a moment as he looked at the girl. She was shivering, despite the warm breeze that was now blowing gently into the room. Her cheeks were as bright as her hair, and her closed eyes twitched as she turned suddenly in her sleep. Reaching into his soft leather pouch Yoro pulled out a cloth woven from Ilken moss, an orange moss that only grew in the late spring. He then stepped over to the water basin on the table beside the child’s bed and poured some into a light wooden cup that was resting next to it. He swirled the cup three times clockwise, and then once counter- clockwise, all the while muttering, “Atone-i, atone-i” over and over. He walked over to the still open window and placed the cup on the window sill so that it was in full view of the moonlight. This time he dipped his cloth into it and began the rotations in the water. “Atone-i, atone-I” He repeated again and again. After he was finished he carried the cup silently back over to the girl. Retrieving the Ilken cloth, Yoro gently twisted it out. He brushed back the girl’s sweaty bangs from her pale face and placed the cloth on her forehead. “Atone-I, atone-i.” He whispered again. The girl’s breathing became less heavy; her body became lax. Yoro continued the cycle of dipping the Ilken cloth into the bowl of water and onto her forehead until the water ran out; continuously chanting softly as he went through the motions. The cup slowly emptied as Yoro finished. The girl lay peacefully in her bed and her cheeks were now a soft rose color. Yoro packed away his cloth and walked swiftly to the window. The moon no longer shone brightly in through the window. Daylight would come soon, and with it the transformation. He was almost to the window when he heard a small gasp. He turned and stopped. The girl was sitting straight up, her light brown eyes wide and alarmed. She opened her mouth. But before she could say anything, Yoro had rushed to her side, shushing her. “Please, please don’t make a sound,” he pleaded in the human tongue, “I don’t bring you any harm I-“ “You’re the one who helps the villagers, aren’t you.” The girl interrupted. Her eyes looked up at Yoro’s long and pearly horn, his white wispy hair, and then finally into his black eyes. “You’ve fixed me, haven’t you?” “Ye-yes. Yes I do heal the-“ “What are you?” The little girl was now on her knees, eyeing his horn again. Yoro stared back at her. She was curious. He had to get away before the dawn. “I’m, um, a unicorn.” His voice faltered. “Ooh, really? Can I touch your horn?” Yoro frowned and blinked. This was not the answer that he had expected. He leaned forward a little. “Well, I suppose so.” The girl ran her pale hand from the base to the point, her small fingers running slowly over the twists and crevasses of the bone. “Why don’t you look like a horse? How come you look like me?” She sat back down on her knees. Yoro laughed. “Well, I’m not a human so I can’t look like you, can I? No, I turn into the horse at the dawn.” His eyes trailed off to the window. The stars had begun to thin. “So that means that you have to leave?” “Yes, I don’t think that your parents will be happy if they find a unicorn in your bedroom.” The
girl grinned. “Hm. Well, I’m afraid that I’m not very good at doing horse things.” There was a moment of silence as Yoro straightened up and the little girl leaned thoughtfully back against her pillow. “Good bye.” Yoro said with a smile, “Please don’t tell anyone about me. They would – not be very pleased I think.” “They wouldn’t believe me even if I told them.” Yoro turned and reached the window. He had lifted himself onto it when the little girl spoke again. “Was I about to die?” Yoro turned his face back to her, but did not move otherwise. “I- no. Not tonight.” “How much longer would I have lived?” “I don’t know.” Yoro continued to stammer, uncomfortable. “Was it a bad fever? Was it hard to make better?” “It was a bad fever, but it wasn’t too much trouble to deal with.” Yoro turned back to the window. “Thank you very much. I’m glad you could make me feel better.” Yoro looked up into the coming dawn, a smile on his lips. “You’re welcome. Thank you so much for letting me help.” And
without waiting for an answer Yoro jumped out of the window, and ran
out into the night. She had been travelling all day, when she finally decided to camp at the edge of the giant forest of Nikara south-east of the shadow forest, which surrounded the capital city of Shadow Wind, her final destination. Nikara was a mysterious place of many legends and a place most travellers avoided. There had been rumour of travellers getting lost in the forest and giant creature, which would kill any travellers going near the woods. She did really believe the rumours, but would have preferred not to travel through Nikara, but instead travel around like all the other travellers, but she had sensed that she was urgently needed in the capital. So it was better to save a day by travelling directly through Nikara. Beside she was quite sure that she as a wanderer would be able to handle almost anything. Nikara had after all only been surrounded by this mystery for the past millennium, which was only about the same as 1/10 of the total life span of most dark elves, and she was about 5 millenniums, so in age she was much older, but it would not hurt to be careful, most places of mystery, regardless of ages, were surrounded by powerful ancient magic. She setup camp about 100 yards from Nikara as the sun was setting in the horizon. Her campfire was just about ready when the darkness of the night set in as a sign that the sun had gone down. The sounds of the night had always fascinated her, but the need for food and rest had overcome her fascination. She made a small meal out of the rations she had prepared for this journey. After having finished her food, she went to sleep. Nothing eventful happened doing the night and the next morning was very cold, winter was setting in. It was around that time of year and it was also a dangerous time for travelling. For the next 3-4 months almost all travellers would be gone. She got up quickly and quietly as she was use to as a result of long time experience. As she entered Nikara, the strange feeling she had been having came over her again and she realized that she was needed her in Nikara and not in the capital as she first thought. She sensed that the ones needing her help were not dark elves, but the spirits of the forest. She did know a lot about the spirits, they were said to live in the centre of the most ancient forests and the forest of Nikara had been around for more than 10 millenniums. So it was indeed one of the older forests. She continued towards the centre and soon realized that there was a mark of death over the forest. In her entire lifetime she had only come across one incident like this one, where the spirits themselves were dieing. Spirits only died if they were killed and to kill them was a great crime against nature and heavy punishments were given to anyone who dared as much as injure a spirit creature. As she reached the centre of Nikara, she saw magical symbols. The symbols looked like energy symbols, which suggested that someone was stealing the life energy of the spirit creatures in the forest and that in turn explained the mark of death over Nikara. She had finally reached the tree of life in the centre of Nikara. The giant tree, Mantrania, was said to store the life energy of a 1000 dark elves, but now it looked nowhere near the beauty it had in the picture in the shadow academy. It was dark and withered away, it looked dead and it was as if the forest was dieing as well. She looked around and saw a man, a human man, yet there was something about him that was not right, he seemed to be dead, yet he was moving. He turn towards her and she realized that he was a necromancer, one of those who could not let the dead rest in peace and now he had attacked this forest. He made two skeletons rise from the ground with a swing of his staff. They ran towards her. She had to think quickly, the forest was too damage for her to be able to use it, so she summoned a healing and blessing light, which destroyed the skeletons and made their master take a step away, he seemed to fear the light. Their combat continued and she gained in on him making him lose ground. It took her about an hour to defeat him, she knew that he drew his powers from the energy symbols and by destroying them she would gain the upper hand, so she destroyed the energy symbols and as they were destroyed, life slowly seemed to return to the forest and the necromancer got weaker and weaker. After having killed the necromancer, she sensed that the spirits and the forest were recovering, there was not much she could do for the forest, but she now had more reason then ever to get to the capital, the elders had to be informed. Even if a single necromancer did pose a great threat, it was a totally different matter if he was killing a forest, since that could make him more powerful and thereby a greater threat. What the necromancer had been doing was also worse then just killing the spirits. She destroyed the remains of the necromancer and made haste to the capital city, there was not time to waste as every hour counted. She entered the city of Shadow Wind in the evening light and continued quickly to the Shadow Academy where the shadow council resided as well as her office. But the city seemed different somehow, of course there was always some kind of activity because of the magical nature of the city as well as the fact that most of the citizens were mages, but this was different. As she got closer to the academy she noticed that a lot of combat mages were patrolling the area around the academy, which almost never happened unless the city was in a state of war and that in it self seemed unlikely. It had been more then 100 years since the last war against the elves and it had been very costly for both sides. At last she reached the entry of the Shadow Academy: The guards at the entrance bowed as she passed by. She was just about to make the turn for the building where the shadow council resided when one of the shadow walkers caught up with her. “The Shadow council wishes to speak with you, Ancient One.” The shadow walker informed her. Clearly he was new around here, but she allowed him to lead the way to the location of the Shadow council, a gathering of very old people, very much like herself. They were sometimes addressed as the elders, but they seldom acted in the affairs of the city. There were of course times when they did step in, but it had only been when war was approaching the city or dangerous concerning magical being or spirits arouse. It seemed that something was happening, could it be a new war with the elves, who had long ago decided that the dark elves were not to have any place in the world, but then again the elves would not be the ones to decided, who could and who could not be allowed to live in this world, at least the dark elves would do their best to stop them. She
entered the shadow council chamber alone, inside awaited the members
of the council. It was a busy afternoon in Transfiguration, the classes was filled with noises from magical attempt such as attempting to do a transfiguration and also many of the students in this class was chatting along as if it was a lunch break. Professor Poppin, the transfiguration Professor had not arrived yet. While waiting for their Professor, Sitting the fourth row to the right hand side was a girl with dark brown hair and has the heights of an average sixth grade student. This student name was Kendra Miller. Unlike the other students in this Transfiguration class, Kendra was the quiet achiever in this class by studying the text and doing her homework, even if her Professor was late, she would always find a time to do it. Kendra like in any other classes was very absorbed in her text book Guide to Advanced Transfiguration which is required for Transfiguration, which is typical considering she takes after her mother who was very dedicated to her class work when she was at Hogwarts many years ago. The door suddenly opened with such force that banged against a wall, the student all gasped and some was spooked by the noise and the noises has subsided and a very tall Professor walked into the room. Professor Miranda Poppin has long blonde hair, brown eyes, and she was skinny. Professor Poppin who is now teaching Transfiguration instead of Professor McGonagall who have retired over ten years ago. The classroom is now silent and everyone was now watching Professor Poppin as she prepares for the first lesson of Transfiguration. The Sixth Years Transfiguration Class has now begun and the Professor spoke with the sound of authority in her voice, in which everyone knew that this class is not some wand waving fun sort of class. "Welcome to a new year of Transfiguration Sixth Years" spoke Professor Poppin and she smiled acknowledging that her class is paying attention and then continued explaining to her class of her basic rules for being in her class, "Once again, same rules every year. No foolish wand wavings and transfiguration mishaps. Anyone caught doing this will be asked to leave the classes". The Professor then turned to the blackboard and then wrote “Theories of Animal Transfiguration” and then turned back to the class and then asked the class a question in hope to spark some type of debate and discussion; “Who can tell me what the difference between an Animagus and a simple Animal Transfiguration, and also what the key differences which requires transfiguring in both situations?” Since it was a
thought provoking question, it rattled Kendra to the nerves, she wanted
to be able to do well in a subject she find difficult to study and to
be able to aquire knowledge and skills, she apprehensively put up her
hands in which Professor Poppin has pointed to her to answer the question.
Kendra started to speak nervously “Well with animal transfiguration,
you can use a wand and be able to transfigure an object into an animal
of what you are thinking of, and with Animagus, it is transfiguring
your human self into an animal which requires some extensive magical
skills”. “We’re off to a good start students, and it certainly shows you all have the knowledge to tackle many project of transfiguration in the next few weeks, lets now look at your Course Outline for the first term” Professor Poppin spoke after the discussion between Animagus and Animal Transfiguration has ended and then waved her wand at the blackboard to show the course outline. The Course Outline for the Sixth Years Transfiguration was now on the blackboard and after reading a few lines, Kendra was already showing signs of nerves. She began to write the Course Outline down. Upon finishing the task, Kendra was feeling the uneasy tension knowingly it was her weakest subject. Throughout the lesson, Kendra paid attention to the Professor and continued writing down valuable information for her study and homework. It was towards the end of the lesson, and the homework was set and she muttered "Oh my god! I'll need to go to the library to do some research on Body-Part Transfiguration". The lesson was
now over and most of the students have left, but Kendra stayed behind
to speak to Professor Poppin to seek some clarification on the definition
of Body-Part Transfiguration and also queried about which books she
can use in order to study on the subject. No Flowers, by Request by Finn Cullen This was the big one, the ugly man told himself, finally a chance to hit the big time. No more second rate jobs, second rate reputation. Finally Lucas Caldicott is going to make a name for himself and stop being a figure of fun. The tip off had come through a friend of a friend of an acquaintance (Caldicott had few friends of his own) and he had instantly seen the potential. The unexpurgated original folio edition of the Final Key of Solomon of which all other published copies were simply bowdlerized muggle copies. The Final Key, thought to have been lost to the Wizarding World for centuries was one of the most powerful books of magical theory and spellcraft ever committed to paper. And now he knew where it was. A muggle bookshop of all places. The fools had no idea what they had in their grotty little shop. Caldicott, face to face with the aged proprietor forced himself to listen to the man’s prattle. “She’ll be back in a few seconds, sir,” said the man, “just gone to fetch the book you asked to view. Keep all the older books safe under lock and key you know. There are some unpleasant fellows around these days.” “Really?” Caldicott grunted, amused by the irony. He looked over a shelf of antique novels and grimaced at the smell of the place. He could already feel his sinuses twitching and his eyes watering at all the dust in the atmosphere and couldn’t wait to be out of there. Out of there as the owner of the Final Key, and on his way to a meeting in Oxford with a wealthy wizard who was willing to pay handsomely for the right to add the book to his collection. How much longer would the muggle hag be? He paced a little among the shelves becoming more and more annoyed until finally: “Arthur,” said a woman’s voice, “here it is.” The bookseller took the oilskin wrapped package from his wife and unwrapped it carefully on the counter. Caldicott came over at once and examined the binding. It was, so far as he could tell, genuine: the slight gnawing of the lower left spine that had been recorded by an earlier owner was there, the mottling of the leather cover where acid had been spilled upon it by a clumsy apprentice. This was the real thing. He licked his lips. “Quite a curio, sir,” said the infuriating bookseller, “all superstitious nonsense of course in my opinion, but an interesting item in its own right. I have a few original prints of the works of Eliphas Levi if you’re interested in…” “Oh SHUT UP!” roared Caldicott, his temper finally broken by the muggle’s familiarity. He slapped the old man hard across the face knocking him to the floor and drew his wand with his other hand. The woman was screaming now but Caldicott silenced her in a flash of green light. The old man rolled onto his front and tried to push himself upright. Caldicott grinned nastily and aimed his wand at the bookseller’s face. And then it went wrong. CRACK Someone had apparated into the shop. Caldicott wheeled around frantically trying to locate the source of the sound. A hard clipped voice rang out: “Throw down your wand!” Aurors. Damn them. Damn them all. Caldicott’s eyes widened in horror at the prospect of capture. Suddenly a stockily built man in a leather jacket stepped out from behind one of the rows of shelves. Grim faced, dark haired, a wand of elm wood leveled steadily at Caldicott. “You’re under arrest, throw that wand down and put your hands on your head.” Caldicott stepped backward instinctively and tripped over the fallen Muggle. The Auror, startled by this yelled “Stupefy!” but his spell shot over the head of the falling Caldicott and missed him entirely. Unable to believe his luck Caldicott riposted with an instinctive disarming spell that blasted the wand from the Auror’s hand and sent the newcomer staggering back a few feet. Lucas Caldicott laughed out loud and feeling more alive and powerful than he had done for years as a low class thief and fence he snapped out “Avada Kedavra!” and ended the Auror’s life in a split second. He stood, breathing hard, eyes wide. He was alive, he was free, he was against all the odds, a winner. The old man, whimpering in pain and alarm had curled up on the floor. “Let’s make it three in a row,” said Caldicott to himself and aimed the wand again at the old man. “Why don’t you take a look at your poor wife before I send you to join her?” -- “Where’s the chief?” asked the young Auror, a man named Prentice Fisher. He was standing in the shelter of an overhanging shop doorway. The other Auror, Jemima Langridge, stuck her head out, flinching against the rain. “Not like him to be late.” “Who’s late?” Both Aurors jumped. The speaker was right beside them, a well built grey haired man in a dark suit. He seemed barely even damp. “Evening Chief,” said Fisher, “I didn’t hear you apparate.” There was no answer from the newcomer, Elijah Coldgate, so Fisher continued, “We’ve tracked the killer to the warehouses across the road.” “Exits?” he asked. “None,” Langridge confirmed. “We put a disapparation snare on him during the chase, so he’s stuck there.” Coldgate gave this a nod, basic practise, not worth singling out for comment. “What do we know about him?” Coldgate snapped. Langridge produced a slim leather bound book held closed by an elastic band. She slipped it open and ruffled through it. “Um…here it is. Confronted by one of our team at the scene of a dual murder earlier today, at a Cripplegate bookshop. We think he was after an old grimoire.” Coldgate gave her a “hurry up” look and Langridge flicked forward in her notes. “We think our man surprised him in the act, but not until he’d killed the Muggle bookshop owners.” She swallowed hard. “Using the killing curse.” Fisher coughed and interrupted, “Our man Jackson Travers responded, there was a confrontation.” “I know,” said Coldgate briefly. “Chief, he was killed too. The same way.” “That’s why we’re all here Fisher,” said Coldgate, “we can get all dewy eyed for Travers later, but the best thing we can do for him is to bring his killer to justice. So tell me: what else do we know?” “Well, Chief,” Fisher continued, “we got a look at the suspect during the chase, Langridge thinks she can recreate his likeness.” Langridge knew better than to wait for an invitation to proceed. “Creo Imaginem!” she intoned sweeping her wand downward, and a three dimensional likeness of a face appeared. Ugly coarse features with swollen pouches around the eyes and puffy lips. Both the younger Aurors were surprised to see a small one-sided smile curl one corner of Coldgate’s mouth. "Lucas 'Red-Eyes' Caldicott," said Coldgate quietly to himself. Fisher blinked, astonished. “You know this fellow Chief? Chief?” But Coldgate was already walking away from cover toward the warehouse doors. “Stay back there,” he called over his shoulder. “How long do we wait if you don’t come out?” Langridge hissed after him. “He’ll come out,” said Fisher. * * * The interior of the warehouse was cold and damp but Coldgate paid it no attention, pushing the door closed behind him to prevent Caldicott getting out that way. It was dark as night, but using Lumos was out of the question, nothing would draw the killer’s attention faster than a moving light. There was movement in the gantries high above the concrete floor, and Coldgate stayed low to the ground, using the stacked cardboard boxes as visual cover between him and the figure above him. He slipped his wand quietly from his pocket and instead of aiming at the killer’s shadowy form, Coldgate touched it gently to the wooden shelving and whispered an incantation. Dark as it was, neither Coldgate nor Caldicott saw the result of the spell, but the Auror’s keen ears heard the gentle popping noises as small floral buds burst out of the dead wood along the shelving and up the wooden supports, spreading like oil on the surface of water. The scent of roses. Elijah Coldgate counted slowly to ten and then called out. “You up there ‘Red-Eyes’?” There was a sudden burst of movement above him and a harsh voice rang out from the gantry. “Coldgate? Go to hell! You’re a dead man!” “I’ve been told that before,” called Coldgate and leaned out just far enough to fire off a brilliant white flare from his wand tip that shot upward and hovered just underneath the metal-sheeting of the roof space, lighting up the whole warehouse. The bulky form of Caldicott was hunched over a row of wooden boxes atop a shelving gantry. Every wooden surface was alive with bright red flowers, bursting through the dead wood in response to Coldgate’s impromptu spell. Coldgate stood up and walked casually for the ladder leading to Caldicott’s now revealed hiding place. Caldicott snarled and brandished his own wand at the approaching Auror. “Avada Ke-” and then he doubled up in a fit of sneezing. “How’s the hayfever, ‘Red-Eyes’, still bothering you?” Coldgate kept on walking. “Ava- CHOO! Avada - kaaaaa” Coldgate reached Caldicott and disarmed him using a quick blow to his forearm. The killer’s wand fell from his hand, clattered off the gantry and dropped to the floor beneath. Elijah Coldate leaned in close and looked into the streaming red eyes of the murderer. “Bless you,” he said. |