| Snip. One chunk of hair falls. She keeps cutting and all the massive dark brown hairs that once graced her head now are lifeless in a pile on the floor. She looks in the mirror. Tears come to her eyes. She blinks and almost regrets doing it. Her green eyes drift over to faded note on her dressing table. It brings back memories of why she�s altering her appearance, pretending to be a man so she can go and fight, trying to find herself, maybe a hero, but more likely her lost love� Shouts are heard. Women scream in pain. Swords clang as warriors fight. There she is, crouched in a corner, but only because her father had ordered her so. She was much younger and more innocent in heart then, a fragile thing, complaining of dust under her fingernails or walking through a small puddle. Yet even still, she had tried to learn how to wield a sword, but had given up a short time ago. She sat and trembled, fearful of what the evil Kaisos would do to her. All the stories she was inundated with by her friend, jokingly, of all that they would do to her when she was captured didn�t help her as she cowered there. The tales of how they would torture prisoners, especially women really did not give her strength or anything. The door is bashed in and she holds her breath, hoping not to be found. To her horror however, they instantly know where she�s hiding, as if her attackers knew exactly where to look. One with an ugly scar on his left cheek grabs her, pulling her from her refuge. He raises his sword. She closes her eyes, hoping for it to all just happen and get over with quickly. �No!� Her little brother charges in yelling and armed with a kitchen knife stabs Scarface in his leg. He drops her roughly and slashes out with his sword, slaying her brother in one sure stroke. She quivers in fear. Scar-face smiles an evil grin and sheaths his sword and is about to grab her again and have his fun. The tears stream down her face. Instead, a voice cries out, �I challenge you to a man-to-man duel. One on one, mano y mano you coward! Leave her alone!� It�s her friend, the one who had told her horror stories and tried to teach her to hold his sword. Scar-face turns around to face him. He stands barely over five feet, muscles minimal, but in his heart now burns a fire stronger than the biggest muscles. His golden blond hair and blue eyes and pale skin add to the illusion of his weakness. They fight. Swords clang and flash. She is frozen in fear. �Run. Come on Delinia I�m doing this for you! I love you Delinia! Please save yourself now.� �I love you too, and this is the hardest thing I shall ever do. But I won�t let you suffer and risk your life in vain. I promise what happens to you will happen ten fold as bad to the one who does so to you. By the strength within my heart I shall do this. Goodbye, Venderick.� She runs off and goes to her forest, the trees and bushes hiding her from all. The animals are all gone, she is alone with no squirrels or birds or even rabbits playing around her as they would in happy days of old. Instead, the wind blows and everything rustles, so it is impossible to follow someone by sound alone through the trees. She lies down, catching her breath underneath a tall oak tree�s protective lower branches and falls asleep� She now looks in the mirror again. �No longer shall I be called Delinia. Henceforth, all who know me will know me as Denervick.� She now looks as a male would in Lynchuria, especially Doria. Curly hair to the shoulders and no facial hair is the way she looks now. Loose gray pants and a tunic cover her curves. A great green cape is thrown about her shoulders. Her father�s great sword is on her belt, along with her brother�s dagger. Although most of her precious possessions are evinced in her outfit, one is hidden underneath those great folds of fabric. A talisman, a charm, an amulet, whatever the name one tries to call it falls short of its glory. A stone heart, on a chain around her neck. It glows a brilliant beacon of hope, though concealed. She turns from the mirror and leaves her room, stealthily sneaking down the stairs, away from the house, out into the night. An owl hoots. Far off are the sounds from the Great Falls of the River Rum. She turns her head to them. There is where she needs to go. She wishes to take her own faithful steed, Whitefeathers, but knows better. Her whole disguise would be in vain if she showed up on the fair white horse of a lady. Instead, she takes her late brother�s, Fryon. A black stallion of noble but forgotten breeding, she saddles him up. She lovingly says goodbye to Whitefeathers, and mounts Fryon and rides off into the night in the direction of the Falls of Rum. As Fryon is quietly trotting along, she reaches into a pocket of her tunic and draws out the note she had taken off her dresser. The paper is no longer the white it used to be, the edges are ragged, and the green ink is fading. Yet though there is this much damage, the message is still there. She reads it. She feels stronger and more ready to go. She felt the amulet glow when she read it and was comforted. They keep going, down the road to Rum. When they reach the river, Fryon leads them upstream to where an army is amassing. The Army of Tiercal, ready to avenge the attack on Doria of Lynchuria. She draws her sword as she approaches. She can even smell the smoke of their fires, though she cannot see them. The falls are no longer a distant roar and are becoming louder. Yet other than that the forest is silent, void of her old friends, the animals. Goosebumps come to her back just as a voice calls out� �Halt! State your name and purpose for traveling the roads at night alone, especially in these times!� Three horsemen come out of hiding in the woods, expertly appearing from the shadows. As they appear, they are armed. Swords are drawn by two and a bow is drawn by the third. Fryon is nervous as he is stopped by Delinia. He stomps his foot and snorts while shaking his head. �I am Denervick, of ruined Doria. I wish to fight alongside other brave warriors against the evil who hath slain my brother and stolen my love away. I came here to join the army of Lynchuria under Tiercal.� It seems an eternity before the bow-man lowers his weapon. The rest then lower their swords. �Come. My name is Nas�nio. I shall take you to Tiercal.� He gestures for her to go first and follows behind. The other two horsemen melt back into the woods, rearming themselves against the night. Soon the falls of Rum are in sight. There is an encampment, fires glowing invitingly. Tents are set up, mainly gray but one is a dazzling green. Nas�nio tells her to leave her stead in the corral with the others. �The stable-boy will take care of him.� She strokes Fryon�s mane after she dismounts, then leads him along. Once Fryon is shut in the corral, she turns, smiles slightly and follows Nas�nio to the Emerald Tent. Once there he calls out, �Nas�nio brings a new warrior for Tiercal. Does he wish to meet him?� There is a pause. Delinia is secretly happy. Her disguise seems to have fooled him. At least for now she doesn�t have to fear being shamed and sent home, a giant �T� across her forehead for �treachery� because it is one of the worst crimes for a woman to be discovered pretending to be a man. And only men were supposed to know the way to use a blade. However, secretly Venderick had taught her some of the basics. If they had been found out to be doing so, he would have been publicly shamed. �Alright, both of you can come in.� The door-flap is opened and they walk in, side by side. They bow respectfully. �Okay, warrior, what is your name and why do you want to serve under me?� She answers with the same answer she had for Nas�nio, � I am Denervick, of the ruined town of Doria. I wish to fight alongside other brave warriors of Lynchuria against the evil that hath slain my brother and stolen my love away.� Tiercal stares at her, unsure of what is standing there before him. For a long time he says nothing. Then with a surprising gentleness for a hardened old soldier says, �You do know how harshly the Kaisos treat their prisoners. Before long she will be ruined and wishing death. At first they will do just enough infliction of pain to just make her desire more death�s sweet presence. But slowly, very slowly, they�ll starve her to death, enticing her every so often with small amounts of food. Most likely, if we looked hard and found something of your long lost love, it would be only her fragile corpse. You could only meet her where she is probably waiting for you, above the sky.� �My love is no more dead than I am.� Tiercal laughs, �Ha, what makes you so sure?� Delinia pauses for a moment, wondering if she dares to show him. She decides to and draws out her heart. It glows blinding and bright, Tiercal and Nas�nio shield their eyes. Then it fades to a slight green ambiance. �I sees you have a Heart of Farathon, enchanted to echo another�s life-force. I can only assume that it is of your love.� �It is. This piece of paper proves it.� She reaches into her tunic pocket and draws it out. Unfolding the slip, she bows a little and hands it over. Tiercal begins to read aloud: �This heart is for my love, To remind of my life And how it remains Until decided from above�� �A true Heart of Farathon it is, the fairy�s signature is there, real and forever. Well it seems that there still is hope for you, Denervick. You may fight under me, and I hope that you are reunited with your love before long. At daybreak, we ride to Kaiscond and seek revenge for the destruction of peaceful Lynchuria.� And thus, Delinia was accepted into the army. She and Nas�nio walk out of the green tent. She tucked carefully away her amulet and the worn paper. �We have to go to supplies and get your outfit. A sword may defend against trolls and fallen fairies, but it does no good against the cold. A dagger may slay wild animals, but cannot slay a wild hunger.� ****Nas�nio leads the way to a nearby tent. In there he picks up a bedroll and a paper parcel. �Here. This should last you through the night. Tomorrow night we shall figure out whose tent you will be in. But, for tonight, just sleep by a fire. If you�ll excuse me, I must get back to my sentry duties. I hope we shall meet again.� He walks off. She stands there in the tent alone for a moment, then she too departs, but not to go to a fire. She heads to the corral, looking for Fryon. She reached the fence and was about to climb over when, �Stop! Tell me why I shouldn�t just press a little harder on your throat. You�re trying to steal the horses, eh? A little spy of Kaisocond who decided to please thy master more?� �No!� She pauses, �No one can deceive Chanoir, I don�t know who you are and thus you are a spy!� Furiously, she replies, �I just cam here and joined the army tonight. I merely thought that with my horse would be a good place for a new soldier to sleep. Is there a problem with that?� Chanoir slowly pulls his sword back and puts it away in his sheath. Delinia turns to face him in the darkness. �Yes there is. It is my duty to watch the horses and I do that best in solitude. Sorry, my job, my rules.� She walks away, disappointed. Find a fire, why bother with that, she thinks to herself. She is used to sleeping without any fire when there�s a foot of snow on the ground. Not going to be too cold for her tonight. She goes over by one of the fires, unrolls the bedroll and sits on it. She opens up the paper package. There is a loaf of bread. She eats it, not realizing until that moment that she hadn�t eaten since the noontime meal. She falls back, collapsing from exhaustion and passes out. �Wake up everyone! Time to rise and greet a glorious day, no thanks to the evil of Kaiscond!� Tiercal bangs a pot against another. Yawning, Delinia wanders back to the corral. She finds Fryon, saddled, bridled and ready to go. She attaches her bedroll to the saddle. She is about to mount when �Whoa, hold it a moment. We haven�t eaten yet. We aren�t leaving quite this moment. Come, you can join my tent for breakfast. What�s your name? Mine�s Hakabree.� Hesitating a moment, she tells him, �Denervick is my name. I come hence from desecrated Doria.� They walk over to his tent, where there are two others sitting by a small fire. �My name�s Charango, pleased to meet you stranger.� The one with the flaming red hair and beard notices her. However, the smaller, cat-like black-haired one doesn�t acknowledge that she arrived. She seems puzzled. �Oh don�t mind Ol�n, he�s not like me, old Charango, much more likely to lose the rest of the world from his mind and think about things he needs to leave behind�� �Shut up Charango. When you keep saying I need to leave her behind, it makes old wounds tear afresh. I�ve kindly asked you not to ever remind me of her!� The silence around the fire is unbreakable it seems. Delinia connects to Ol�n. She knows the pain of losing one so dear to the heart, but she is sure that he�s alive and in his free heart and soul is full of love for her still. She finds herself staring into Ol�n�s eyes. Jerking, she breaks the lock he had on them. She cannot be too trusting of anyone, if it were found out she wasn�t the great warrior Denervick, but the peasant girl Delinia� she didn�t want to think about it. She remembers a story her mother had told her as a little girl, after she had taken her brother�s sword and started to swing it. After a thorough scolding, she told the story of a girl that ran away to join the army. After she was discovered and the �T� was emblazoned on her forehead, she returned to her home. But no one was there. They had left a note saying: �We hate you! You are a disgrace to our family name. In fact you can�t use it anymore. You are �She-the-Disgraced-One� now. Leave this house as it can�t belong to you now�� After reading this, she collapsed in tears and died of heartbreak. She shakes her head again. It won�t do her any good to constantly reminded of her family at home. �Pack and load up! We ride on into the sunrise!� Tiercal orders. Delinia thanks Charango, Ol�n, and Hakabree for their hospitality and heads to the corral once more. �Wait!� Hakabree calls, his brown eyes bright, �Will you join us tonight when we camp again? We have no fourth for our tent.� �Sure, I mean uh� I�m grateful for the courtesy you�ve shown me!� Almost giddily, she runs to the corral to Fryon�s side. �Hey buddy, my dear Fryon did thee sleep well?� He nudges her back lovingly. She then expertly mounts up after checking the condition of her steed. She rides up to where Tiercal and Nas�nio are waiting. �Denervick reporting for duty!� She bows in her saddle, showing respect for the wise old leader. Tiercal is aware of her presence. He motions for her and Fryon to go around behind him. �Wait, Denervick, while everyone else goets ready. Next time you will be helping with a tent in addition to your bedroll.� The wind rushes through the trees. A crow calls. Delinia�s hand is at her sword ready to draw it. Someone is coming down the path, the whole forest is telling her that a rider approaches the camp. �Kaiso reigns forever, none shall defeat the great N�maton!� A rider dressed in hooded black robes and carrying a glowing red sword rides up to Tiercal. �So the great Tiercal thinks he can stand up to the N�maton�a death-riders?� He raises his cruel sword to strike, before he can, a sword of blazing green blocks the blow. �So Tiercal, a child must fight for you now? You�re getting too old. You�re ancient, and about to become ancient history. Ha-ha-ha!� Delinia is madly fighting for her life. She is obviously outmatched in skill against this swordsman, but she knows horses better. Before she can confirm this, he is shot. A feathered arrow sticks out of his back. In his moment of agony, she slashes and his head rolls to the ground with one blow, as an act of ending his pain as quickly as possible. She stands there. The blood drips from her upraised sword. The black death-rider�s horse runs away, back to where it came from. Nas�nio�s friend from last night appears in her vision. Everywhere she looks is a blur but his face or bow, her sword, and the head on the ground. �You saved my life, fine warrior. I thank you but I don�t know your name. What is it?� He looks at her for a moment. He doesn�t answer. �Whatever your name is, I Denervick thank thee.� He looks at her with more of a questioning look on his face. �Oka. I am Oka and don�t think too much of it. Besides you are the one who killed him. The arrow was merely an irritant, an annoyance. Detaching their detestable head from their body kills the N�maton. A blow anywhere else is healed within moments. And that usually only irritates them further.� By this time the rest of the camp was ready to leave. Delinia looks at her sword. It is clean. She sheaths it. She looks down to where the N�maton�s head was. There is only the black shred of robe left without any trace of blood and it crumbles and is blown off into the wind. So these N�maton vanish once they are dead, no bodies to clean up. Probably this is not the case with all those who fight for the throne of fire. The rest of the company is awed by Delinia�s bravery. Well all, that is, except Ol�n. She doesn�t notice though. As they travel down the road to Kaiscond, Charango boldly sings a song of the slaying of the N�maton. Slowly, however, his enthusiasm fades as the trail hardens and the forest thicker, darker, and more frightening as they go further from the Falls. The horses need encouragement to keep going. A light rain begins to fall as they cross the border of Lynchuria� |