Post by Silve on Nov 19, 2007 12:16:55 GMT -5
Brilliant colors, of thousands of shades and variations, were unlocked to their full potential as the glow of an early morning sun filtered through the branches of many trees, filled to bursting with leaves of only the most extravigant greens. Flowers littered the forest floor with their rainbow hews, neon purple and pink petals flowed with the soft breeze that whispered through the foliage. In a clear and quiet clearing, blue, yellow and red birds fluttered to the ground, singing and exulting the new day. And then, a twig snapped, filling the peace with its startling sound. In flurry of feathers the birds departed, as, on the far side of the clearing, something colorless when compared to its home stepped into full veiw of the sun's rays.
While most of the forest lived in beauty and color, this beast was built of corded muscle that rippled with the slightest movement. It was built of strength that echoed in every inch of its body. It was built in contrast, pure white and the darkest black; light and dark, side by side. It was not completely devoid of color, however, as its sharp curved fangs, revealed in a wide yawn, were the color of ivory, and gums and tongue were a healthy pink. Most brilliant of all were the eyes that shone like sapphires placed into a statue.
The fine feline shape moved to a crystaline pool with grace instead of speed, and it drank leisurely, for it had nothing to fear in this place. And then, it stopped, the very definition of motionless. It had smelled something that didnt fit. Something human, but not. A scent the beast knew well, but didn't dare believe. This was the scent of the sorceress who had created it. One who was lonely, and so shaped a piece of her heart to create a companion that loved her unconditionally. Raising it's large head it roared that she might hear. "Come to me, my mistriss, too long has it been that I have been without your presence."
Silence. That was the gift for loyalty. Growling bitterly, the white tiger bowed his head to drink once more. Eyes closed as they were, only ears were testiment to the answering presence. A voice that was so musical it made the songs of the millions of birds seem discordant floated softly in the air. "You know well, my Seiylin. It has been so long that I have seen your handsome face. Turn it to me that I might once more."
"No, no," he growled. "I am dreaming again. She cannot be here. Not after so long without her. Ignore it. Ignore her."
But it was impossible to ignore the featherlight touch on his shoulders. "You are not dreaming my friend. Open your eyes, show me your face. Let me see the eyes of my dearest friend once more."
Seiylin could not ignore a direct order from the sorceress, not by her spell, but by his choice. His eyes opened and he turned to see a sight that had been too long in the making. She was more magnificent than he could remember. She, like this forest she had made for him, had an otherwordly aura about her. She was dressed in all white and silver, the colors of her family of the lineage of her father, Raknar, who was lord over the Castle Bran in a little town in ancient Transylvania. Her feet were clad in boots so white that they could only be contrived by magical means. The buckles were silver, as was her armor, emblazened with a white wolf on the chest plate, for every decendant carrying the blood of Raknar had a second shape of a white wolf, it was part of the training for their white magic. A white cloak swished away from the intricate white and silver sword at her side, and a bow made of white wood also was ancored to her back with a quiver of arrows fletched with swan feathers.
"My Sage!" cried the white tiger and leapt onto her, knocking her to the ground. "It is you. Too long, too long, have I been without you my sister." Like a dog greeting his master, Seiylin licked at the face of his creator, and the hood of her cloak fell back, exposing white hair held back with a leather strap in a ponytail. Startled Seiylin leapt back. "Please let my eyes be deceiving me that my lady is grown old in the time she had been gone."
The white hair was the only thing that made her look old, and Sage's youthful face split into a wide grin. "I am not old, my brother, my hair is but changed. I have aged only four years since our last meeting."
In a way that was very comical, Seiylin's jaw dropped. "Four years?" he asked increduously, "You were gone for barely one."
Smiling, the white lady said in a matter-of-fact voice, "You forget that I was using time travel." The smile swiftly turned grim. "How is my family, Seiylin? I worried constantly over my dear brother. What was the story they told?"
It hurt Seiylin deeply to see his creator like this, her grey eyes filled to bursting with tears. "I check on them often," he rumbled, bumping his head against her elbow, which it reached easily. "Your brother blames himself. He remembers that last thing you told him far too clearly. He feels that he has failed you." Sage dropped to the ground, opening her arms to her dearest friend, and he lay with his head in her lap. She leaned over him, and he felt her tears on his fur. "But he does better now. He's made friends." He moved on the an easier subject. "Your mother was very affected by your leaving. It was called a runaway, and there is not much hope that you will return. She has made numerous paintings that make many cry to simply look at. She is a fabulous artist. Your father is still on the road."
"A runaway? I was fifteen when I left, and I left because I had to." She remembered only too clearly the turn of events since she first discovered that she was a little more than human. Her first noting was in her dreams, when a white wolf came to her in her dreams, telling her that she was destined for more, and that she should be honing her talent. This was her father's second form. Her true father. She had been adopted into the family as a young young child, when her adoptive parents had been told that they could not have a child. That was contridicted two years later, when her brother was born.
Truth be told she wasn't born into this time period. She had been born thousands of years ago, the daughter of Raknar, the Lord of Castle Bran, beloved by all his people, for he exhibited kindness that was becoming all too rare in those days. But then a rival had come, one who was mortal enemy to the sorcery of Raknar's kind. This hated enemy was rumored to be a vampire, and an old one at that. He was called Vladromir the Impaler, for his cruel ways of executing the guilty, the innocent, and his enemies. The Impaler spread lies of the kind Lord, and the people beleived them. Lies telling of the sorcery that Raknar used as a means for keeping the people under control. Soon after his appearance, people started dying.
"Sacrifices, to your master's cruel magistry," whispered the vampire into the people's ears. He took residence in a well fortified castle a day's march from her father's own. The people started to revolt, and Raknar refused to kill his people. But soon the Impaler himself was leading the people to battle. As a last resort the sorceror sent his infant of a daughter into the future, that she would escape the battle that raged his castle, until such time as she was old enough to face his enemy. In the hours that followed, the castle was stormed by men bearing the standard of the Impaler, and in the battle that ensued, Raknar knew that his powers were not enough to gain him victory, so he cast another spell, one that bound him and the Impaler to the deepest dungeon in his home, that none would intrude on, and so release the two enemies to continue their fight.
Raknar was wrong. Through the times, the castle passed hands, until it finally came down to a greedy man, who wanted to sell if to the government of Romania, for several million dollars. When officials came to judge whether or not it was worth what he was asking, they released the spirits trapped inside, and the Impaler was set free to spread lies and evil in the world, while his opponent was left to find his daughter, Sage, who was then 15.
Sage hadn't expected a strange destiny to unfold from the magics that were beginning to grow in her, but she agreed that she would help her father to put down this darkness, which was already beginning to show. For the people she loved. But before she had learned of all this, only a week before she left she remembered talking to her brother of visions of the future.
"I saw something again, Samuel," she told him one morning, shivering. "I saw you, in the future, and you were handsome and loved, but also sad. So, so sad. I looked for me in that future, but didn't find me. I was gone. I think, in the near future, I might die, Sam." She whispered even more quietly, "I don't want to die."
"I promise that I will protect you," he had replied with all the surity that was in him. "You are my sister, and I promise that I will not let you die."
It was four years ago to her. But now she was trained. Now she could fight. "Someday," she told Seiylin, "when I have conquered the evil of my enemy, I will return to them and tell them that I'm alive. And then I will spend much time trying to find him."
Seiylin knew that she spoke of her old boyfriend, whom she loved very very much. He had disappeared, and try as she might with her new powers, she couldn't find him. "You'll find him, Sage. You'll find him."
With a heavy sigh, she unbuckled her sword belt and wrapped herself into her cloak. A moment later a slender white wolf stood in her place. "Let us sleep now, Seiylin. And come morning we will start recruiting descendents of my father's comrades to try and help us." The wolf laid herself onto the ground and leaned against Seiylin, resting her head on his forepaws.
That night Sage's dreams were troubled. From a bird's eye view she was watching a battle unfold. On the battlements of a tall fortress there were two combantants. One, she knew, was herself. She was all in white and silver, her blade moving swiftly to match the skill of her opponent. From her vantage point she could not see the face of him who she fought. From his armor, she knew it must be the Impaler. To clash against her silvers and whites, Vladromer was clothed in reds and blacks.
A vision of the future is what I am seeing, she thought. This is the battle that is coming.
It was a long a pitched battle, but then the black fighter stumbled, and there was a perfect openning in the armpit, a gap between the shoulderplates and chestplate. I am to win! came the triumphant thought. But the self that was involved in this conflict didn't strike. A profound sadness with in her eyes, and the opportunity was gone. The black knight rose and spat into her face contemptuously. A white hand came to wipe it from her eyes, but in that moment the Impaler kicked her hard in the stomach, and she fell to her knees.
"And so the hopes of Raknar die with his daughter," he howled to the heavens. He raised his balck and red sword over his head to thrust it into her, and the Sage on the battlements spread her arms wide to welcome it, saying something that the dreamer could not hear. And the blade fell, and the dreamer turned away from sight, but the sound of the steel thudding into an armored body was a noise she couldn't block out.
Panting, Sage in her second form scrambled to her feet. Her teeth wear bared and her eyes so wild that Seiylin, who had awoken with a start at the sorceress's movements, for a moment feared that his master had lost her wits completely. "Lady Sage, it's alright," he cried, trying to sooth her, he stepped forward and started to raise his paw towards her, but she snarled and snapped at it, then turned and made a dash towards the tree. The tiger murmured a spell to keep her from escaping and another the calm and clear thought. "Sage, it is me. I am Seiylin and you created me with one half of your heart, do you remember?"
There was a long moment where it looked like Sage might attack, or try to run. Finally she dropped her head and tail and shed from herself the shape of the wolf. "I'm sorry, Seiylin. I know it. I know it." She seemed more to be trying to convince herself than anything. Resignedly, she took long, slow steps until she was by the pool once more. She dipped her hand in and cupped water in it and drank. This was a process she could have accomplished easily with her magic, but she would not use it now. It was her magic that had showed her what she saw.
"What did you see, Sage?" Seiylin whispered, pressing his side to her shoulder in an invitation for comfort.
"I cannot say," was the only answer, and never before had she refused to confide anything in him. How can I tell him I saw our defeat? she thought. "Let us prepare for our recruits," she quickly told him.
(End of first chapter, What do you think?)
While most of the forest lived in beauty and color, this beast was built of corded muscle that rippled with the slightest movement. It was built of strength that echoed in every inch of its body. It was built in contrast, pure white and the darkest black; light and dark, side by side. It was not completely devoid of color, however, as its sharp curved fangs, revealed in a wide yawn, were the color of ivory, and gums and tongue were a healthy pink. Most brilliant of all were the eyes that shone like sapphires placed into a statue.
The fine feline shape moved to a crystaline pool with grace instead of speed, and it drank leisurely, for it had nothing to fear in this place. And then, it stopped, the very definition of motionless. It had smelled something that didnt fit. Something human, but not. A scent the beast knew well, but didn't dare believe. This was the scent of the sorceress who had created it. One who was lonely, and so shaped a piece of her heart to create a companion that loved her unconditionally. Raising it's large head it roared that she might hear. "Come to me, my mistriss, too long has it been that I have been without your presence."
Silence. That was the gift for loyalty. Growling bitterly, the white tiger bowed his head to drink once more. Eyes closed as they were, only ears were testiment to the answering presence. A voice that was so musical it made the songs of the millions of birds seem discordant floated softly in the air. "You know well, my Seiylin. It has been so long that I have seen your handsome face. Turn it to me that I might once more."
"No, no," he growled. "I am dreaming again. She cannot be here. Not after so long without her. Ignore it. Ignore her."
But it was impossible to ignore the featherlight touch on his shoulders. "You are not dreaming my friend. Open your eyes, show me your face. Let me see the eyes of my dearest friend once more."
Seiylin could not ignore a direct order from the sorceress, not by her spell, but by his choice. His eyes opened and he turned to see a sight that had been too long in the making. She was more magnificent than he could remember. She, like this forest she had made for him, had an otherwordly aura about her. She was dressed in all white and silver, the colors of her family of the lineage of her father, Raknar, who was lord over the Castle Bran in a little town in ancient Transylvania. Her feet were clad in boots so white that they could only be contrived by magical means. The buckles were silver, as was her armor, emblazened with a white wolf on the chest plate, for every decendant carrying the blood of Raknar had a second shape of a white wolf, it was part of the training for their white magic. A white cloak swished away from the intricate white and silver sword at her side, and a bow made of white wood also was ancored to her back with a quiver of arrows fletched with swan feathers.
"My Sage!" cried the white tiger and leapt onto her, knocking her to the ground. "It is you. Too long, too long, have I been without you my sister." Like a dog greeting his master, Seiylin licked at the face of his creator, and the hood of her cloak fell back, exposing white hair held back with a leather strap in a ponytail. Startled Seiylin leapt back. "Please let my eyes be deceiving me that my lady is grown old in the time she had been gone."
The white hair was the only thing that made her look old, and Sage's youthful face split into a wide grin. "I am not old, my brother, my hair is but changed. I have aged only four years since our last meeting."
In a way that was very comical, Seiylin's jaw dropped. "Four years?" he asked increduously, "You were gone for barely one."
Smiling, the white lady said in a matter-of-fact voice, "You forget that I was using time travel." The smile swiftly turned grim. "How is my family, Seiylin? I worried constantly over my dear brother. What was the story they told?"
It hurt Seiylin deeply to see his creator like this, her grey eyes filled to bursting with tears. "I check on them often," he rumbled, bumping his head against her elbow, which it reached easily. "Your brother blames himself. He remembers that last thing you told him far too clearly. He feels that he has failed you." Sage dropped to the ground, opening her arms to her dearest friend, and he lay with his head in her lap. She leaned over him, and he felt her tears on his fur. "But he does better now. He's made friends." He moved on the an easier subject. "Your mother was very affected by your leaving. It was called a runaway, and there is not much hope that you will return. She has made numerous paintings that make many cry to simply look at. She is a fabulous artist. Your father is still on the road."
"A runaway? I was fifteen when I left, and I left because I had to." She remembered only too clearly the turn of events since she first discovered that she was a little more than human. Her first noting was in her dreams, when a white wolf came to her in her dreams, telling her that she was destined for more, and that she should be honing her talent. This was her father's second form. Her true father. She had been adopted into the family as a young young child, when her adoptive parents had been told that they could not have a child. That was contridicted two years later, when her brother was born.
Truth be told she wasn't born into this time period. She had been born thousands of years ago, the daughter of Raknar, the Lord of Castle Bran, beloved by all his people, for he exhibited kindness that was becoming all too rare in those days. But then a rival had come, one who was mortal enemy to the sorcery of Raknar's kind. This hated enemy was rumored to be a vampire, and an old one at that. He was called Vladromir the Impaler, for his cruel ways of executing the guilty, the innocent, and his enemies. The Impaler spread lies of the kind Lord, and the people beleived them. Lies telling of the sorcery that Raknar used as a means for keeping the people under control. Soon after his appearance, people started dying.
"Sacrifices, to your master's cruel magistry," whispered the vampire into the people's ears. He took residence in a well fortified castle a day's march from her father's own. The people started to revolt, and Raknar refused to kill his people. But soon the Impaler himself was leading the people to battle. As a last resort the sorceror sent his infant of a daughter into the future, that she would escape the battle that raged his castle, until such time as she was old enough to face his enemy. In the hours that followed, the castle was stormed by men bearing the standard of the Impaler, and in the battle that ensued, Raknar knew that his powers were not enough to gain him victory, so he cast another spell, one that bound him and the Impaler to the deepest dungeon in his home, that none would intrude on, and so release the two enemies to continue their fight.
Raknar was wrong. Through the times, the castle passed hands, until it finally came down to a greedy man, who wanted to sell if to the government of Romania, for several million dollars. When officials came to judge whether or not it was worth what he was asking, they released the spirits trapped inside, and the Impaler was set free to spread lies and evil in the world, while his opponent was left to find his daughter, Sage, who was then 15.
Sage hadn't expected a strange destiny to unfold from the magics that were beginning to grow in her, but she agreed that she would help her father to put down this darkness, which was already beginning to show. For the people she loved. But before she had learned of all this, only a week before she left she remembered talking to her brother of visions of the future.
"I saw something again, Samuel," she told him one morning, shivering. "I saw you, in the future, and you were handsome and loved, but also sad. So, so sad. I looked for me in that future, but didn't find me. I was gone. I think, in the near future, I might die, Sam." She whispered even more quietly, "I don't want to die."
"I promise that I will protect you," he had replied with all the surity that was in him. "You are my sister, and I promise that I will not let you die."
It was four years ago to her. But now she was trained. Now she could fight. "Someday," she told Seiylin, "when I have conquered the evil of my enemy, I will return to them and tell them that I'm alive. And then I will spend much time trying to find him."
Seiylin knew that she spoke of her old boyfriend, whom she loved very very much. He had disappeared, and try as she might with her new powers, she couldn't find him. "You'll find him, Sage. You'll find him."
With a heavy sigh, she unbuckled her sword belt and wrapped herself into her cloak. A moment later a slender white wolf stood in her place. "Let us sleep now, Seiylin. And come morning we will start recruiting descendents of my father's comrades to try and help us." The wolf laid herself onto the ground and leaned against Seiylin, resting her head on his forepaws.
That night Sage's dreams were troubled. From a bird's eye view she was watching a battle unfold. On the battlements of a tall fortress there were two combantants. One, she knew, was herself. She was all in white and silver, her blade moving swiftly to match the skill of her opponent. From her vantage point she could not see the face of him who she fought. From his armor, she knew it must be the Impaler. To clash against her silvers and whites, Vladromer was clothed in reds and blacks.
A vision of the future is what I am seeing, she thought. This is the battle that is coming.
It was a long a pitched battle, but then the black fighter stumbled, and there was a perfect openning in the armpit, a gap between the shoulderplates and chestplate. I am to win! came the triumphant thought. But the self that was involved in this conflict didn't strike. A profound sadness with in her eyes, and the opportunity was gone. The black knight rose and spat into her face contemptuously. A white hand came to wipe it from her eyes, but in that moment the Impaler kicked her hard in the stomach, and she fell to her knees.
"And so the hopes of Raknar die with his daughter," he howled to the heavens. He raised his balck and red sword over his head to thrust it into her, and the Sage on the battlements spread her arms wide to welcome it, saying something that the dreamer could not hear. And the blade fell, and the dreamer turned away from sight, but the sound of the steel thudding into an armored body was a noise she couldn't block out.
Panting, Sage in her second form scrambled to her feet. Her teeth wear bared and her eyes so wild that Seiylin, who had awoken with a start at the sorceress's movements, for a moment feared that his master had lost her wits completely. "Lady Sage, it's alright," he cried, trying to sooth her, he stepped forward and started to raise his paw towards her, but she snarled and snapped at it, then turned and made a dash towards the tree. The tiger murmured a spell to keep her from escaping and another the calm and clear thought. "Sage, it is me. I am Seiylin and you created me with one half of your heart, do you remember?"
There was a long moment where it looked like Sage might attack, or try to run. Finally she dropped her head and tail and shed from herself the shape of the wolf. "I'm sorry, Seiylin. I know it. I know it." She seemed more to be trying to convince herself than anything. Resignedly, she took long, slow steps until she was by the pool once more. She dipped her hand in and cupped water in it and drank. This was a process she could have accomplished easily with her magic, but she would not use it now. It was her magic that had showed her what she saw.
"What did you see, Sage?" Seiylin whispered, pressing his side to her shoulder in an invitation for comfort.
"I cannot say," was the only answer, and never before had she refused to confide anything in him. How can I tell him I saw our defeat? she thought. "Let us prepare for our recruits," she quickly told him.
(End of first chapter, What do you think?)
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