The Three H Foundation

Not This Year

2006-10-15T11:27:00.000-07:00

Well, it looks like I'll be putting off the Three H Foundation for yet another NaNoWriMo.

Instead, for 2006's NaNoWriMo, I'll be working on Escalating Descent - a sports analogy for what's going on with the U.S. and the Bush Administration. I'm actually very very excited about this. It's coming together very nicely.

Come join me and if you come from reading the Three H and would like to read more, please let me know and I'll get back to writing this.

Time to Roll Up the Sleeves

2005-09-23T23:45:00.000-07:00

No, I don't mean like George Bush.

And Yes, this qualifies as Author's Notes. It's just been so long since I blogged here that I don't remember what color I used to do author's notes.

Okay. I LOVE the characters Tristan and Kat. Only I think I changed Tristan's name here for the Three H.

Three H Foundation as a concept works. Only, if I'm to do a story about the Three H Foundation, which I want to do one day, it's about the three ol' ladies that I have such a good time writing.

It should be about how THEY became the heads. It should be about why THEY created the foundation or was chosen to lead it. It should be about what trials and tribulations THEY went through to create a unified and united school.

Three H definitely ISN'T about Tristan and Kat. That was entirely the wrong approach.

SO! The big question facing me right now is, do I write about Tris and Kat? or do I write about Remy, Agatha and CeCe? I had to look up their names just now. But you know something?

The second I read those names, their faces popped into my head and grinned at me, as if to say, glad to have you back, Shair. So, is it us fun old three or you going to write about those two?

Dang it! Those three are fun!

Remy kinda looks like my dwarf on WoW. Agatha... she alternates between an old crone-like type, or worse, the plump witch in Sleeping Beauty. CeCe, of course she looks like Angelica Houston. Can anyone else be CeCe?

And the three of them, have this great twinkle in their eyes, as if they share a secret.

Oh yeah, the three of them want me to write about them.

This is ... joy.

You guys don't get what a wonder creating is, do you? What fun it is, to have people in your head that don't say much, just grin at you when you get it right, when you ask the right questions? I tell people, I am just a passenger hoping to be able to convey to the reader and do the scenes that play out before my eyes some justice.

I believe I am under their spell. The Three H Foundation it is.

And this time, it's about the Three.

Kat #2 - Author's Notes

2005-01-17T17:57:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Okay, it's been a while since I've written. Yes, I feel guilty. No, that hasn't stopped me from procastinating. Learned a life lesson. If you dangle a game about super-heroes in front of someone who has always wanted to be a super-hero, do not expect that person to be able to say no. I've been hooked on City of Heroes lately, an online MMORPG. First one I've ever forayed into. And oh man, the graphics are sweet. Right now, my goal is to fly... me, who can't even get on the third step of a ladder without heart palpitations. Man, living in today's world really is fantastic. I'll have more to say about this in Distorted Dreams, but now, I really should get to writing at leaast one paragraph before my girl and I start a new game of Civilization III. oh yeah, Christmas is horrible for writers. All these new games - and we all know anything will suffice as a rationale to not write.

Goddamnit. I was going to start writing and it hit me, how blank I am. I've literally sat here for 5 minutes trying to figure out where the next chapter starts. See, I was going to start a few weeks later, but then realized I should fill in some of those weeks, at least the routine, then realized I had NO idea what Kat's routine is. So, I was going to start six months down the road and realized I had NO idea what Kat would've been doing those six months. Why is that important you ask? Well, I don't remember which actor this was, but it was on Bravo's The Actor's Studio - a fantastic source of inspiration for story-telling by the way - and an actor said one of the things he/she does for preparation is to remember what the character was doing just before the character shows up. By this, the actor meant that though it's really invaluable to remember that the character is a misogynist who dresses in women's clothes, it's equally important to remember the character just finished eating oatmeal and hasn't wiped his face yet.

That is why I try and remember that though I might be setting the next chapter far away in time, I still have to do the hard work of realizing what that character did or didn't do during that time. For instance, if my character has been training hard (like Kat probably has been) then her now current state should reflect that. If she's been focusing on footwork as the previous chapter she should now be able to be more sure-footed. In fact, these are things I'd focus on in the next rewrite, progression of character.

See, my biggest problem with Kat is that she's such a fully realized adult in my mind, because she meets up with Tristan pretty much as a fully evolved adult, I've no concept of how she is at this age. Here, she's probably around 10-12. Rorga is fashioned after Sparta and obviously, that kind of environment is difficult for someone like her. The other thing about her is she's really taciturn, and obviously from my previous chapters about Tristan, my strength lies in showing through dialogue (which is the reason why people tell me I should write screenplays or plays. But I do love the flow of words, which is why I tend to write in prose form even for comics.

Yes, I'm obviously delaying here as I ponder the life that is Kat's prior to the meeting with Tristan. However, this tells me what I've suspected all along. Kat is a two-dimensional character. *sighs* Perhaps all the cool characters are two-dimensional. Perhaps I'm just blowing smoke up my own ass. (no perhaps about that!) Kat is a high concept right now. How to flesh her out then? What incident can make her real to me and my readers? I've got to come up with a name for that creature too. That creature, by the way, came out of nowhere. It just showed up and said put me in, you need a tie-in with the fantasy part of the epic. So I did and now I'm stuck with it, a nameless green thing, sitting there in the middle of my story laughing at me, daring me to do something innovative with it.

Current thoughts/questions are: 1) Is the creature good or bad or neither? 2) THE DAMN NAME! 3) How is it magical besides it's appearance 4) how is it tied into the fantasy side? 5) Is it related to ... Tak or... hmm Klystra... hmm What about Klystra's familiar? or did the Queen send it? Or should I leave this question unanswered? I mean I should answer it but I should let the readers know this yet.

I am so stuck it's unbelievable. I should somehow bring Tak or.... HEY!!!!! I think I just figured out who this creature is, what it's doing, why it's in Rorga, how Kat ends up meeting Tristan ..... I have to work this out. Okay, thanks for listening (reading) and all I have to do right now, now that I've figured out a big piece of the puzzle, is figure out how to get the story to that point.

Kat #1 - Part B

2004-12-23T18:20:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Okay, I've been spending a lot of time creating some background for Kat. We'll see what goes on here since most of what I've been working on takes place a little while from where I started. I've come up with many ways to tie Kat to Tristan. Oh, and an admission here. I watched a documentary on the Carpenters last night. For some reason, I felt I had to write, to finish what I've started here, partially in tribute to Karen Carpenter. It's hard to explain.

Rorga was a military town. It was known throughout the realm as the place that produced the fiercest, most organized and most feared soldiers. Rorgans, male and female, were proud of their reputation, and did their utmost to upkeep the traditions that gave them the reputation. This, however, precluded training of females. In the past, if females wanted to learn to fight, they usually left Rorga for the wild tribes of Ibinia and Oliver had been expecting Kat to run off any day. Yet, Kat, though truly unhappy with the future Rorga held for her, showed little sign of wanting to run off. He wondered if he should broach the subject.

Arriving home, Oliver lifted Kat off his broad shoulders and set her down in the kitchen where his wife had been muttering over a cauldron of hot soup. Pecking Pertha's cheek, he dipped a finger into the soup only to have a spoon sharply rap his knuckles.

"I thought officers were supposed to display discipline and patience?" chided Pertha. "Alexandrios hasn't come home yet from his training. I suspect that he and his buddies found out about Lanka's new acquisition and they've gone to investigate. You two want to go find him?"

Shrugs were the responses so out came the broom and Pertha chased them out. Laughing, father and daughter raced to Lanka's dwelling and sure enough, a passle of boys stood around a miserable creature, all poking it with sticks.

"What's going on here boys?" Oliver's voice boomed out and three of the five boys jumped back, trying to hide their sticks behind their backs. "Nothing" was the chorus echoed about.

One tiny boy stood up slowly, beaming at them. "Papa, come look! It's real slimy! Kat, grab a stick."

Kat looked at the creature and glaring at her brother, she stormed over and snatched the stick out of his hands. "Alex! This is a living creature! How dare you and your friends...." Kat sputtered. She broke the stick in half then knelt down to peer into the creature's eyes. What she saw surprised her; there was intelligence behind those eyes - for a moment. A blink, and blankness shuttered the window into the creature's soul.

[Author's Notes] Okay, that was a nice turn of a phrase. When I come up with these, I can't help it, I'm proud. Too bad, these little gems of phrases only show up once in a while. I am not focused on the language right now. This first draft is meant to deliver plot and character development. I'll work on the language and pacing on the second draft but that is so different from what I usually do. Reason why I can rarely finish a story is because I try and get these kinds of phrasing in on the first draft. Makes it really hard to finish when you keep reworking and reworking the same part. Oh, and usually to get into the mood for writing phrases like this, I read Truman Capote's Music for Chameleons. In that collection of short stories, Capote really tries to pack as much description, emotion, movement, plot and character development into as few words as possible. And that's what I strive for.

The creature was a thin, wispy thing, green and yes, her brother's description was apt, slimy. It seemed to be neither male nor female, and not a hair graced the body anywhere, not on the head, nor torso nor limbs. It blinked its huge eyes about, throwing each person a blank look, but the stiffness of the body indicated it was braced for more pokes.

Riveted, Kat tried a small smile but there was no reaction. She threw a look that pleaded with her father, and Oliver snapped out of his astonishment to sweep the boys out of the room. "But Papa..." Alex resisted, but Oliver was insistant. "Come on, son. Let's go find Lanka to see where he got this creature." Howls of agreement greeted this.

Alone with the creature, Kat sat down before it in silence, just smiling a little and trying to show that she meant no harm. The creature's eyes darted about still, as if expecting the others to return. She shook her head. "Papa understood that you didn't like what they were doing. They won't be back today."

The creature's eyes betrayed a hint of relief, showing Kat that it understood her words. "I'm Kat. I'm sorry my brother and his friends are such melonheads. If you don't mind, I'd like to come back to visit you." The creature seemed to realize that it had betrayed its comprehension and dropped the facade, nodding. With a quick grin, Kat stood up and left.

Kat #1

2004-12-23T17:58:00.000-08:00

The heat surrounding Rorga was stifling but Katrina loved it. She could feel streams of sweat pouring down her as she lifted up the heavy sopping cloth she was washing. Glancing over at the boys, she could see them wiltering under the heat as they practiced stances.

Damnit, why can't Papa see that I'm better than boys? Her resentment grew as she thwapped the cloth with a bamboo racket, swatting out dirt. She looked over at boys and saw that they were practicing the spread stance. It was rumored that some of the old-timers could stand like that for days and the burliest of men couldn't knock them off the stance. She had heard and seen her father countless times yelling at the boys her age, then walking up to some and with a hard blow, knock them over only to have them stand like that for another four hours.

Looking around, she confirmed that no one was paying attention to her and she stood with her feet spread apart, knees somewhat together in emulation of the boys, then swatted the heavy cloth hanging in front of her. It was harder than it looked. After a few minutes, her thighs were screaming at her to stop but she continued for an hour. When she finally unlocked her legs out of that position, she could hardly move them.

Gathering all the washings she had done, she turned to leave but felt a heavy hand drop onto her shoulder. She looked up; it was Papa.

"Well, you looked a sight, Kitten," he smirked.

Katrina shuffle her feet sheepishly, then said, "I was just copying the boys, Papa. No harm done." She looked up at her gigantic father who towered over her. Strange that both her and her brother turned out to be rather scrawny but one look at their mother told everyone where the kids got their bodies from. Her father had graying black hair, tied loosely in a ponytail. His beard where his mustache met on either side were grey, the rest was black. Since he had been coaching the youngsters, his beard was tied together in a loose knot as well to keep out of his way.

"Come on, I'll give you a ride." Without waiting for an answer, he scooped her up onto his shoulders, his arms carrying the wet cloths easily. "Well, Kitten. You know Rorga's rules. We're not allowed to teach the martial arts to the women; however, next time? Don't spread your feet so far apart."

A hug around his head that partially obstructed his view, told Oliver that his daughter understood. It was really a shame that they couldn't teach Katrina. She had been a natural athlete since she was born, unlike his son Alexandrios. He loved to tell the tale of when she had been born, she landed on all limbs, then snarled at him. An exaggeration, to be sure, but there was something different about her. That was why he had chosen the name Katrina and called her Kitten. The feline grace had been with her since birth.

Rorga was a military town. It was known throughout the realm as the place that produced the fiercest, most organized and most feared soldiers. Rorgans, male and female, were proud of their reputation, and did their utmost to upkeep the traditions that gave them the reputation. This, however, precluded training of females. In the past, if females wanted to learn to fight, they usually left Rorga for the wild tribes of Ibinia and Oliver had been expecting Kat to run off any day. Yet, Kat, though truly unhappy with the future Rorga held for her, showed little sign of wanting to run off. He wondered if he should broach the subject.

Arriving home, Oliver lifted Kat off his broad shoulders and set her down in the kitchen where his wife had been muttering over a cauldron of hot soup. Pecking Pertha's cheek, he dipped a finger into the soup only to have a spoon sharply rap his knuckles.

"I thought officers were supposed to display discipline and patience?" chided Pertha. "Alexandrios hasn't come home yet from his training. I suspect that he and his buddies found out about Lanka's new acquisition and they've gone to investigate. You two want to go find him?"

Shrugs were the responses so out came the broom and Pertha chased them out. Laughing, father and daughter raced to Lanka's dwelling and sure enough, a passle of boys stood around a miserable creature, all poking it with sticks.

"What's going on here boys?" Oliver's voice boomed out and three of the five boys jumped back, trying to hide their sticks behind their backs. "Nothing" was the chorus echoed about.

One tiny boy stood up slowly, beaming at them. "Papa, come look! It's real slimy! Kat, grab a stick."

Kat looked at the creature and glaring at her brother, she stormed over and snatched the stick out of his hands. "Alex! This is a living creature! How dare you and your friends...." Kat sputtered. She broke the stick in half then knelt down to peer into the creature's eyes. What she saw surprised her; there was intelligence behind those eyes - for a moment. A blink, and blankness shuttered the window into the creature's soul.

The creature was a thin, wispy thing, green and yes, her brother's description was apt, slimy. It seemed to be neither male nor female, and not a hair graced the body anywhere, not on the head, nor torso nor limbs. It blinked its huge eyes about, throwing each person a blank look, but the stiffness of the body indicated it was braced for more pokes.

Riveted, Kat tried a small smile but there was no reaction. She threw a look that pleaded with her father, and Oliver snapped out of his astonishment to sweep the boys out of the room. "But Papa..." Alex resisted, but Oliver was insistant. "Come on, son. Let's go find Lanka to see where he got this creature." Howls of agreement greeted this.

Alone with the creature, Kat sat down before it in silence, just smiling a little and trying to show that she meant no harm. The creature's eyes darted about still, as if expecting the others to return. She shook her head. "Papa understood that you didn't like what they were doing. They won't be back today."

The creature was a thin, wispy thing, green and yes, her brother's description was apt, slimy. It seemed to be neither male nor female, and not a hair graced the body anywhere, not on the head, nor torso nor limbs. It blinked its huge eyes about, throwing each person a blank look, but the stiffness of the body indicated it was braced for more pokes.

The creature's eyes betrayed a hint of relief, showing Kat that it understood her words. "I'm Kat. I'm sorry my brother and his friends are such melonheads. If you don't mind, I'd like to come back to visit you." The creature seemed to realize that it had betrayed its comprehension and dropped the facade, nodding. With a quick grin, Kat stood up and left.

Author's notes 12.15.04

2004-12-15T17:57:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Writing a novel from two different computers is hard. Blogging it is even harder. Plus, I can't seem to write long hand nor can I write first then post later. Pretty much what you see spewed here is just that... spewed out.

The last two weeks have been an exercise in repairs and construction. I'm talking about my personal life where due to many different reasons, conflicts that were simmering boiled over.

The outlook here now is clear, due to a long process of talking, listening and trying really really hard not to get angry. My other and I are stronger than ever (thank the stars) and we've shored up the foundation and am ready to build on it more.

Of course, the process wreaked havoc on Kat's story - lol. Kat is still there patiently waiting for me to tell what happens next. A good thing that came out of this recess, is that Kat's story is more developed, albeit in a overall way. I knew things in the future, but the question was, how do I bring it about from the past and how do I make it NOT contrite. I hate plot devices that are glaringly plot devices.

It shan't be long now before I put fingers to keyboard and eke out a few thousands words so our mysterious protagonist will be less mysterious. Then after that, Tristan's mid-teen years, then Kat's late teens, early 20's and THEN finally the two shall meet. Again, why can't I be ambitious with money?

Take care!

Kat #1 - Part A

2004-11-28T16:58:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] I attempted to write this early on but realized I had no voice for Kat. I had always seen Kat through Tristan's eyes and only very recently did I come up with some of Kat's background. I'm contemplating writing Kat's story in first person, just to vary it but I think I won't. Since I've always seen Kat through Tristan's eyes, it might be more illuminating to write this in third. I hated what I wrote earlier - all three paragraphs. Anyway, I think I've come to a close on Section One, the introduction to the main character and sub-characters, the introduction to the school itself. Section Two will be Kat's story. It'll be a lot shorter than Section One but who knows, once I get writing I might add quite a bit more. I certainly didn't expect Section One to be 9 chapters long.

The heat surrounding Rorga was stifling but Katrina loved it. She could feel streams of sweat pouring down her as she lifted up the heavy sopping cloth she was washing. Glancing over at the boys, she could see them wiltering under the heat as they practiced stances.

Damnit, why can't Papa see that I'm better than boys? Her resentment grew as she thwapped the cloth with a bamboo racket, swatting out dirt. She looked over at boys and saw that they were practicing the spread stance. It was rumored that some of the old-timers could stand like that for days and the burliest of men couldn't knock them off the stance. She had heard and seen her father countless times yelling at the boys her age, then walking up to some and with a hard blow, knock them over only to have them stand like that for another four hours.

Looking around, she confirmed that no one was paying attention to her and she stood with her feet spread apart, knees somewhat together in emulation of the boys, then swatted the heavy cloth hanging in front of her. It was harder than it looked. After a few minutes, her thighs were screaming at her to stop but she continued for an hour. When she finally unlocked her legs out of that position, she could hardly move them.

Gathering all the washings she had done, she turned to leave but felt a heavy hand drop onto her shoulder. She looked up; it was Papa.

"Well, you looked a sight, Kitten," he smirked.

Katrina shuffle her feet sheepishly, then said, "I was just copying the boys, Papa. No harm done." She looked up at her gigantic father who towered over her. Strange that both her and her brother turned out to be rather scrawny but one look at their mother told everyone where the kids got their bodies from. Her father had graying black hair, tied loosely in a ponytail. His beard where his mustache met on either side were grey, the rest was black. Since he had been coaching the youngsters, his beard was tied together in a loose knot as well to keep out of his way.

"Come on, I'll give you a ride." Without waiting for an answer, he scooped her up onto his shoulders, his arms carrying the wet cloths easily. "Well, Kitten. You know Rorga's rules. We're not allowed to teach the martial arts to the women; however, next time? Don't spread your feet so far apart."

A hug around his head that partially obstructed his view, told Oliver that his daughter understood. It was really a shame that they couldn't teach Katrina. She had been a natural athlete since she was born, unlike his son Alexandrios. He loved to tell the tale of when she had been born, she landed on all limbs, then snarled at him. An exaggeration, to be sure, but there was something different about her. That was why he had chosen the name Katrina and called her Kitten. The feline grace had been with her since birth.

Chapter 9 - Part B

2004-11-28T11:34:00.000-08:00

Remy joined in, "First off, though we divide you up by Hand, Heart and Head, and though we will have some competition between the three groups, we expect coordination and support among the three." and Tristan nodded.

"I expect that Donna told you about the rules and regulations regarding dining?" Cece tilted her head in query and Tristan murmured a "Yes." "Good. As for duties, you've seen groups of three carrying out several tasks already, right?" And again Tristan nodded.

Agatha continued for Cece. "You've only seen a few tasks I believe, like the chandeliers and the gates. You'll find out your duties ... from Donna I dare say. I think since you two hit it off so well, we'll assign you two together, and wait to find your third."

Tristan looked down for a moment then asked, "Can Tiny be the third?"

Cece replied. "Unfortunately, apprenticeship to the smithy will devour much of his availability. To work out a schedule will take too many resources to coordinate and thus prove impedibility."

At Tristan's bewildered look, Remy explained. "Tiny will be too busy." "OH! Okay." and both Remy and Agatha chuckled. Remy dug an elbow into Cece's ribs. "Translator extraordinaire!" and Cece just muttered.

Agatha then turned serious. "Tristan, there will be some girls here who... might not appreciate your background."

Remy harrumphed at Agatha, "Hmmph! Seriously, you and Cece both need lessons in direct talk!" She turned to Tristan, "She means that some will not take kindly to sharing a classroom with a slave girl. We prefer that you resolve these issues yourself, but if you find that it affects someone else, or it affects your studies enough to be disruptive, then you may seek us for advise."

"So, there's fighting?" Tristan wondered briefly if she would need to protect Tiny. Cece spoke up with a little frown on her face. "Well, officially no. But the three of us are aware that sometimes, conflicts need to be resolved on a physical level and if we try and stop that, it may escalate beyond our abilities to help ease a resolution."

'Also," Agatha added with a twinkle in her eye. "We use a bartering system here. For example, you are on gate duty but you have extra homework. You may decide to barter services, goods, etc for someone to take your duties. Another example is," She shot a look at Cece who just muttered, "Working the lifts."

"Lifts? What are those?"

"In the other two arches, in the middle of a staircase, there is a square wooden plank with the four corners tied to a pulley system. We have three girls assigned to each 'lift' and while it's recommended that you walk up the stairs, some find - " Again, Agatha looked over at Cece "the climb somewhat harrowing. So, barters are set up between the lifters and the lifted. I find the most amazing barters at times."

A look of realization transformed Tristan's face. 'OH! Is that why Cece came out of a different stairwell?" Both Remy and Agatha rolled around in laughter and nodded at her.

Afraid to laugh, Tristan looked out at the vista and suddenly yawned. Agatha stood up and bustled Tristan up into the folds of her clothes. "C'mon you, let's find you a bed and look over those wounds. I see the one on your leg is still bleeding. If you don't watch it, you'll be confined to bed until it heals."

Tristan's eyes closed as soon as Agatha had scooped her up. The warmth from Agatha's body enveloped her in a cocoon of security that she hadn't experience since... since when? She murmured her gratitude and fell fast asleep.

Author's notes 11/28/04

2004-11-28T11:00:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Yeah, yeah I know I skipped a day yesterday. And I'm still only averaging about 2000 words a day. Which means that since today is the 27th, there is no way in hell I'll get to 50,000. Oh well, such is life. However, I am eternally grateful to Nanowrimo for starting this. If I hadn't found that site, The Three H Foundation would still only exist in my mind.

This book has been with me for the past 8 years, maybe more. There would be times when someone would be talking to me, and instead I was fighting the good fight alongside Tristan, or laughing at something Kat said, or wondering just how many Donna would bed in a lifetime. I called myself a Dreamer in high school. In some ways I still very much am. Hence the name resigned idealist.

Tristan is the best of me. She is a character drawn from Shaw Brothers movies. A hero with heart. I've been rewatching a ton of Shaw Brothers movies lately and it amazes me how much of my writing sensibilities came from those movies. The whole noble idea of sacrifice - not so noble in Western ideals, but oh in Chinese myths - the sacrificing hero is the most laudable of all. And Chinese women wonder why we stand there and take it. If the Kung-fu movies had it bad, the romantic ones had it worse. The heroines were always beaten down, sacrificing until they spat up blood and only on their death beds did all the others realize the error of their ways. I laugh now, but damn if this thought doesn't run through my head a few times a week.

I was talking to my other last night and I realized where the inspiration for Cece came from - CJ of West Wing. I can't wait to see if Agatha and Remy will talk Cece into doing the Jackal! Points to those of you who know what I'm talking about.

I reread my old chapters yesterday. TONS of continuity errors. That's what I get for not rereading the previous chapters before embarking on a new one. I've asked my other to keep track of new words I invent like Sprygo or something like that. That way, I can continue to build a new language. I need my linguistic professor friend to come back to California!

Okay, enough avoidance. Time for the show!

Chapter 9

2004-11-28T09:09:00.000-08:00

Panting, Tristan didn't stop to enjoy the view; she found a cushion on the floor and plopped down. Cece soon emerged from a staircase huffing as well. Remy and Agatha had already found cushions to their liking and flopped onto them. Remy said gently to Tristan, "Catch your breath, then let the view take it away."

Tristan's focus edged away from her breathing to her surroundings. She was in a fairly large room, about forty by sixty feet all encased in glass. They were about eight stories up where the three arches joined together. This room was simply the large archway opened into a room.

It was oddly shaped, to accomodate the fusion of three archways. However, the scariest thing was that the floor was made of glass as well, which meant you could see straight down. Too scary, so Tristan focused instead on the mountain rising up covering up a third of the horizon. Opposite the mountain was a straight drop down to the ocean where waves crashed up in a swathe of white. Just beyond the cliffs was a small beachhead and she could spot two boats swaying with the current down there.

"You can get to the beach through the east end of the woods." Agatha had noticed where Tristan was looking.

Cece finally reached them and plopped down beside Agatha who gave her a handkerchief to wipe off the sweat. Remy spoke up. "Did you notice how many floors you walked past?"

Tristan nodded and said, "Yes, we walked past five floors, not counting the first."

Remy nodded. "Right. Each focus has two floors. Hand has the first two, then Heart, then Head. The dormitories are directly above the assembly hall. Because the arch becomes smaller at the top, the Hand dormitory only has one floor." Remy glanced at the other two and getting their approval, she continued. "You were a tough one to place. All of us saw potential in you for each discipline." Remy paused, "We all did agree though in the end, that you belonged primarily to Heart."

Tristan beamed at the prospect of learning from Agatha.

Cece took up the conversation. "However, due to what we all observed, it would be remiss of us if we did not fully explore your potential in all fields. There are already a few with what we call cross-over talents. I believe you've made the acquaintance of one such candidate - Donna. You shall join her and her companions in receiving education that transcends our normal training. It will be a harsh road, young Tristan. However, we can only see good resulting from this should you wish to try this path.

Agatha smiled, "What do you say to all this?"

Tristan grinned. "Three words - pile it on!" and she let out a whoop of delight.

The trio laughed with her and then sobered. Agatha spoke. "There are some rules and regulations."

Remy joined in, "First off, though we divide you up by Hand, Heart and Head, and though we will have some competition between the three groups, we expect coordination and support among the three." and Tristan nodded.

"I expect that Donna told you about the rules and regulations regarding dining?" Cece tilted her head in query and Tristan murmured a "Yes." "Good. As for duties, you've seen groups of three carrying out several tasks already, right?" And again Tristan nodded.

Agatha continued for Cece. "You've only seen a few tasks I believe, like the chandeliers and the gates. You'll find out your duties ... from Donna I dare say. I think since you two hit it off so well, we'll assign you two together, and wait to find your third."

Tristan looked down for a moment then asked, "Can Tiny be the third?"

Cece replied. "Unfortunately, apprenticeship to the smithy will devour much of his availability. To work out a schedule will take too many resources to coordinate and thus prove impedibility."

At Tristan's bewildered look, Remy explained. "Tiny will be too busy." "OH! Okay." and both Remy and Agatha chuckled. Remy dug an elbow into Cece's ribs. "Translator extraordinaire!" and Cece just muttered.

Agatha then turned serious. "Tristan, there will be some girls here who... might not appreciate your background."

Remy harrumphed at Agatha, "Hmmph! Seriously, you and Cece both need lessons in direct talk!" She turned to Tristan, "She means that some will not take kindly to sharing a classroom with a slave girl. We prefer that you resolve these issues yourself, but if you find that it affects someone else, or it affects your studies enough to be disruptive, then you may seek us for advise."

"So, there's fighting?" Tristan wondered briefly if she would need to protect Tiny. Cece spoke up with a little frown on her face. "Well, officially no. But the three of us are aware that sometimes, conflicts need to be resolved on a physical level and if we try and stop that, it may escalate beyond our abilities to help ease a resolution."

'Also," Agatha added with a twinkle in her eye. "We use a bartering system here. For example, you are on gate duty but you have extra homework. You may decide to barter services, goods, etc for someone to take your duties. Another example is," She shot a look at Cece who just muttered, "Working the lifts."

"Lifts? What are those?"

"In the other two arches, in the middle of a staircase, there is a square wooden plank with the four corners tied to a pulley system. We have three girls assigned to each 'lift' and while it's recommended that you walk up the stairs, some find - " Again, Agatha looked over at Cece "the climb somewhat harrowing. So, barters are set up between the lifters and the lifted. I find the most amazing barters at times."

A look of realization transformed Tristan's face. 'OH! Is that why Cece came out of a different stairwell?" Both Remy and Agatha rolled around in laughter and nodded at her.

Afraid to laugh, Tristan looked out at the vista and suddenly yawned. Agatha stood up and bustled Tristan up into the folds of her clothes. "C'mon you, let's find you a bed and look over those wounds. I see the one on your leg is still bleeding. If you don't watch it, you'll be confined to bed until it heals."

Tristan's eyes closed as soon as Agatha had scooped her up. The warmth from Agatha's body enveloped her in a cocoon of security that she hadn't experience since... since when? She murmured her gratitude and fell fast asleep.

Chapter 9 - Part A

2004-11-26T15:21:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Okay, I'm tired of the Queen's voice so I'm going to avoid it for this chapter. Who knows, chapters 7-9 may be one long-ass chapter instead of three. I'm still unsure about the chapter breaks, but it's more due to length more than anything else. These are awfully short chapters as it stands, but they're all minus the detail except these last few. Have I mentioned how much I hate writing descriptions? Thank goodness for the sims! If it wasn't for that, I wouldn't be thinking of architecture the same way.

Panting, Tristan didn't stop to enjoy the view; she found a cushion on the floor and plopped down. Cece soon emerged from a staircase huffing as well. Remy and Agatha had already found cushions to their liking and flopped onto them. Remy said gently to Tristan, "Catch your breath, then let the view take it away."

Tristan's focus edged away from her breathing to her surroundings. She was in a fairly large room, about forty by sixty feet all encased in glass. They were about eight stories up where the three arches joined together. This room was simply the large archway opened into a room.

It was oddly shaped, to accomodate the fusion of three archways. However, the scariest thing was that the floor was made of glass as well, which meant you could see straight down. Too scary, so Tristan focused instead on the mountain rising up covering up a third of the horizon. Opposite the mountain was a straight drop down to the ocean where waves crashed up in a swathe of white. Just beyond the cliffs was a small beachhead and she could spot two boats swaying with the current down there.

"You can get to the beach through the east end of the woods." Agatha had noticed where Tristan was looking.

Cece finally reached them and plopped down beside Agatha who gave her a handkerchief to wipe off the sweat. Remy spoke up. "Did you notice how many floors you walked past?"

Tristan nodded and said, "Yes, we walked past five floors, not counting the first."

Remy nodded. "Right. Each focus has two floors. Hand has the first two, then Heart, then Head. The dormitories are directly above the assembly hall. Because the arch becomes smaller at the top, the Hand dormitory only has one floor." Remy glanced at the other two and getting their approval, she continued. "You were a tough one to place. All of us saw potential in you for each discipline." Remy paused, "We all did agree though in the end, that you belonged primarily to Heart."

Tristan beamed at the prospect of learning from Agatha.

Cece took up the conversation. "However, due to what we all observed, it would be remiss of us if we did not fully explore your potential in all fields. There are already a few with what we call cross-over talents. I believe you've made the acquaintance of one such candidate - Donna. You shall join her and her companions in receiving education that transcends our normal training. It will be a harsh road, young Tristan. However, we can only see good resulting from this should you wish to try this path.

Agatha smiled, "What do you say to all this?"

Tristan grinned. "Three words - pile it on!" and she let out a whoop of delight.

The trio laughed with her and then sobered. Agatha spoke. "There are some rules and regulations."

Chapter 8 - Part B

2004-11-26T15:08:00.000-08:00

Cece beckoned Tristan from a doorway opposite the one that they had entered. Walking through, Tristan found herself in a large hallway with two rows of marble columns down the middle. The walls on either side of her still contained the slits for windows, but the front third of the room was encased in windows. At the very front, a few steps let up to three gigantic chairs of the same proportions. Agatha clucked and said, "Yeah, ridiculous isn't it. The architect said in order for the people in the back to see us, the chairs had to be humungous. But Cece is the only one of us who even passes for not shrunken when we sit in those chairs." Agatha walked away clucking to herself.

"What is this room?" Tristan twirled around in the middle looking up at the very tall ceiling noticing the complex crystal chandelier hanging down from the ceiling. A trio of girls came in and started to unwind the ropes that held up the chandelier. "Ah," said Cece. "It's getting near dark. We'd better head on up. Oh, hmm, perhaps we should eat first then climb those dagnit stairs." Cece stood under the descending chandelier, pondering.

"Umm, Cece. You might want to get out of the way. Unless you like wax drippings." Agatha smirked. Cece looked up and nonplussed, she moved slightly away and said, "Yes, dinner first. Shall we let the lamb loose around the wolves or hmm Tiny. Tristan, go get Tiny and show him where the kitchen is. I think you and he should enjoy a moment of solitude before setting on your separate paths." A cluck of agreement came from Agatha.

Tristan shot a grateful smile at their consideration and ran off. If she remembered correctly, the stables should be slightly to the left as she left the arch. Dashing over, the odor confirmed her bearings. She found Tiny looking on with fascination as a large burly man stood pounding a bar of iron into a horseshoe. She was thankful they were in an open area since the heat off the furnace assumed a physical form.

Nudging Tiny, she grinned and said, "Whatcha learning?"

"Look, Tristan. It's really skrim! When Giorgio - that's him, Giorgio -" and Giorgio nodded a greeting. "- when he hits that rod.. Yeah I know it's a bar now, but it started off as a rod! ANYWAY, when he hits it, it bounces. He makes it bounce where he wants it to go! AND he's going to teach me how to do it!" Tiny's eyes underscored his excitement. "Tristan, this is the best thing that ever happened to us!"

Tristan gasped as Tiny bearhugged her, then spun her around. "What've you been doing?" he queried.

"C'mon, let's go get food. I can't stand this heat anymore. Giorgio, want us to get you anything?" Giorgio seemed surprised by the offer but shook his bald, beardless head. "Nah, Tiny. You eat good. Be giant in mind and body. Yah." At that, the two dashed off past the gate. Tristan pointed out all she found out earlier but found that Tiny was only paying attention to the rumblings his tummy was making.

A line of girls stood waiting for their turn at the table. Tristan and Tiny joined them at the near end. Neither was sure which of the duo drew the most looks. A familiar freckled face fell in behind them. "Hey Tristan," grinned Donna. "Who's your bud?"

"He's Tiny." Her eyes twinkled.

Donna shot her a look, then looked at Tiny up and down, and grinned at Tristan. They both shouted simultaneously at each other, "I know he is, but what's his name!" and both collapsed in laughter on the ground. Tiny just rolled his eyes. He harumphed, "A new friend?"

Donna stood up first, wiping her eyes and she stuck out her hand to Tiny. "Name's Donna. Very new friend, and if you can take her humor, you can take mine. So, I guess you're going to be stuck with me." She grinned irrepressibly at Tiny. Tiny surrendered and shook her hand. "Tiny and don't ask what my real name is. I don't remember." She nodded.

"I might as well go for seconds. Where were you two? They started serving half an hour ago." Donna rubbed her tummy.

"I was looking for him. He's going to be apprenticing at the smithy's and he was watching Giorgio at work. - Eh, what's that?" Sounds of instruments being tuned drifted by. An string instrument started a tune, then a drum joined setting the rhythm, followed by several flute-like instruments.

Smiling, Donna explained, "There's a couple of us who's music-mad and so every night, they usually get together after supper to play and practice. Others who need practice join in, so usually there's two or three regulars with a bunch more just playing with them. And sometimes... sometimes, they get the Trio to join in." Donna beamed. "You just have to hear for yourselves."

"Oh, has anyone explained supper to you?" Both Tristan and Tiny shook their heads. "Not much to explain. Just a few things. First off, you can go up for food up to three times. All food product left over, if edible gets put on the cart. If inedible, they get tossed into the garden. Aggie figures what doesn't get turned into fertilizer will attract the birds. Better they eat the leftovers than what's growing.

"Also, you can eat anywhere you want. The dining room's also the assembly room. You've been there, right Tristan?" Tristan murmured an agreement since they had arrived at the table and she was piling her plate full of potatoes, beef stew, and peas. Both Tiny and Donna grabbed a similar amount.

Tiny and Tristan followed Donna up onto the triangular platform. No one ate where mats were laid in the middle, but along the edges on a six foot wide path were groups of girls, most looking their way. Donna plopped down near four girls who grinned greetings at Donna. Tristan and Tiny sat down as Donna pulled out utensils for all of them. "You two looked as if you never saw food like that before. You guys just walked right past these. Here."

With the two devouring their food, Donna continued, "Okay. Food fights. Only one place allowed and that's the garden. That's usually where I eat, but I figured you two didn't need to experience that on your first night."

"They allow that?" Tristan managed to sputter that out in mid-swallow.

"Yeah! How skrim is that? They told us that they know some of us need to blow off steam physically, in a fun way. If you have a food fight elsewhere, then it's judgement time." Donna shivered.

"They beat you?" Wouldn't be so bad, I've been beaten before. Tristan stopped eating to look hard at Donna.

"Oh no. Nothing like that. They want you to learn from your mistakes. With me, they figured out that if they have everyone give me the silent treatment, it drives me nuts. I hate it enough that I won't break the rules." Donna shivered again. "So, is it true that you two came from a slave camp?"

Chapter 8

2004-11-26T13:13:00.000-08:00

What a fascinating school. I must have someone investigate it further. Someone whom I can trust, who will blend in seamlessly, who will look the part. Or should I just befriend one of your newly acquired friendships? Hmm, so many possiblities. And who's to say whether I won't examine them all. After all, savoring one's eventual victory is paramount to one's ultimate enjoyment, isn't it?

********

Donna slipped away to finish up her chores and Tristan stood near the doorway of the kitchen taking then entire site in. To her right was the gates and past that were the stables. Almost directly across from her, just off center rose one of the stairwells up into the sky, only this one was larger than the other two. In between all the arches, a triangular platform, the first of six, rose a few feet above the ground. Five steps leading up to the platform surrounded it and on the platform, about two dozen girls were practicing with long sticks.

Agatha emerged from the kitchen and headed towards the large arch. "Don't let Miss Donna talk you into anything that you're unsure about. That ol' Donna, she's a charmer and well, just don't let her okay?" Tristan nodded quickly then asked, "Why is that one larger?" She pointed at the approaching arch. "Patience. That's something you should learn, then teach Donna."

"Ah, Cece's finally arrived." Agatha waved to Cece who looked tired. Clucking, Agatha took the cloak off Cece's sweating back, "Next time Remy and I want to drag you hiking, you'd better go. Look at you." Panting too hard to reply, all Cece did was glare at Agatha. Without a further word, she led the way into the large arch.

Tristan blinked hard when she entered. She had expected it to be dark inside since no sunlight seemed to penetrate the walls but it was quite bright. Cece noticed her astonishment and pointed to slits along the walls. She went over to take a look. The walls were about a foot deep and the slits were about six inches wide. There were enough of them to let sunlight pour in and since the walls and floor were made of marble, the reflection illuminated the shadows.

They had walked into a small receiving area where muddied boots lined up one wall, clean ones lined another. In the corners were stands for umbrellas and raincoats. Agatha explained. "Each arch has a room like this. It rains quite often but usually only one third of the student body are outside. So, on rainy days, the ones slated to be outside grab the clean ones, then assigned students take the muddy ones and clean them putting up on the clean shelves. That way, the ones who couldn't afford boots could still have them during rainy days."

They walked through the reception area into a landing where a large staircase rose around the center, following the perimeter. Tristan stood in the center of the landing and looked up at the semi-spiraling staircase rising up above her and she twirled around, dizzying herself. "Wheeeee! Hey! One side leans into the opposite!" She peered up trying to steady her gaze. Cece finally caught her breath and said, "This is an arch, remember? At a point up there where the arch curves steeply, it becomes just one long stairs instead of four along the edges." "OH!"

Cece beckoned Tristan from a doorway opposite the one that they had entered. Walking through, Tristan found herself in a large hallway with two rows of marble columns down the middle. The walls on either side of her still contained the slits for windows, but the front third of the room was encased in windows. At the very front, a few steps let up to three gigantic chairs of the same proportions. Agatha clucked and said, "Yeah, ridiculous isn't it. The architect said in order for the people in the back to see us, the chairs had to be humungous. But Cece is the only one of us who even passes for not shrunken when we sit in those chairs." Agatha walked away clucking to herself.

"What is this room?" Tristan twirled around in the middle looking up at the very tall ceiling noticing the complex crystal chandelier hanging down from the ceiling. A trio of girls came in and started to unwind the ropes that held up the chandelier. "Ah," said Cece. "It's getting near dark. We'd better head on up. Oh, hmm, perhaps we should eat first then climb those dagnit stairs." Cece stood under the descending chandelier, pondering.

"Umm, Cece. You might want to get out of the way. Unless you like wax drippings." Agatha smirked. Cece looked up and nonplussed, she moved slightly away and said, "Yes, dinner first. Shall we let the lamb loose around the wolves or hmm Tiny. Tristan, go get Tiny and show him where the kitchen is. I think you and he should enjoy a moment of solitude before setting on your separate paths." A cluck of agreement came from Agatha.

Tristan shot a grateful smile at their consideration and ran off. If she remembered correctly, the stables should be slightly to the left as she left the arch. Dashing over, the odor confirmed her bearings. She found Tiny looking on with fascination as a large burly man stood pounding a bar of iron into a horseshoe. She was thankful they were in an open area since the heat off the furnace assumed a physical form.

Nudging Tiny, she grinned and said, "Whatcha learning?"

"Look, Tristan. It's really skrim! When Giorgio - that's him, Giorgio -" and Giorgio nodded a greeting. "- when he hits that rod.. Yeah I know it's a bar now, but it started off as a rod! ANYWAY, when he hits it, it bounces. He makes it bounce where he wants it to go! AND he's going to teach me how to do it!" Tiny's eyes underscored his excitement. "Tristan, this is the best thing that ever happened to us!"

Tristan gasped as Tiny bearhugged her, then spun her around. "What've you been doing?" he queried.

"C'mon, let's go get food. I can't stand this heat anymore. Giorgio, want us to get you anything?" Giorgio seemed surprised by the offer but shook his bald, beardless head. "Nah, Tiny. You eat good. Be giant in mind and body. Yah." At that, the two dashed off past the gate. Tristan pointed out all she found out earlier but found that Tiny was only paying attention to the rumblings his tummy was making.

A line of girls stood waiting for their turn at the table. Tristan and Tiny joined them at the near end. Neither was sure which of the duo drew the most looks. A familiar freckled face fell in behind them. "Hey Tristan," grinned Donna. "Who's your bud?"

"He's Tiny." Her eyes twinkled.

Donna shot her a look, then looked at Tiny up and down, and grinned at Tristan. They both shouted simultaneously at each other, "I know he is, but what's his name!" and both collapsed in laughter on the ground. Tiny just rolled his eyes. He harumphed, "A new friend?"

Donna stood up first, wiping her eyes and she stuck out her hand to Tiny. "Name's Donna. Very new friend, and if you can take her humor, you can take mine. So, I guess you're going to be stuck with me." She grinned irrepressibly at Tiny. Tiny surrendered and shook her hand. "Tiny and don't ask what my real name is. I don't remember." She nodded.

"I might as well go for seconds. Where were you two? They started serving half an hour ago." Donna rubbed her tummy.

"I was looking for him. He's going to be apprenticing at the smithy's and he was watching Giorgio at work. - Eh, what's that?" Sounds of instruments being tuned drifted by. An string instrument started a tune, then a drum joined setting the rhythm, followed by several flute-like instruments.

Smiling, Donna explained, "There's a couple of us who's music-mad and so every night, they usually get together after supper to play and practice. Others who need practice join in, so usually there's two or three regulars with a bunch more just playing with them. And sometimes... sometimes, they get the Trio to join in." Donna beamed. "You just have to hear for yourselves."

"Oh, has anyone explained supper to you?" Both Tristan and Tiny shook their heads. "Not much to explain. Just a few things. First off, you can go up for food up to three times. All food product left over, if edible gets put on the cart. If inedible, they get tossed into the garden. Aggie figures what doesn't get turned into fertilizer will attract the birds. Better they eat the leftovers than what's growing.

"Also, you can eat anywhere you want. The dining room's also the assembly room. You've been there, right Tristan?" Tristan murmured an agreement since they had arrived at the table and she was piling her plate full of potatoes, beef stew, and peas. Both Tiny and Donna grabbed a similar amount.

Tiny and Tristan followed Donna up onto the triangular platform. No one ate where mats were laid in the middle, but along the edges on a six foot wide path were groups of girls, most looking their way. Donna plopped down near four girls who grinned greetings at Donna. Tristan and Tiny sat down as Donna pulled out utensils for all of them. "You two looked as if you never saw food like that before. You guys just walked right past these. Here."

With the two devouring their food, Donna continued, "Okay. Food fights. Only one place allowed and that's the garden. That's usually where I eat, but I figured you two didn't need to experience that on your first night."

"They allow that?" Tristan managed to sputter that out in mid-swallow.

"Yeah! How skrim is that? They told us that they know some of us need to blow off steam physically, in a fun way. If you have a food fight elsewhere, then it's judgement time." Donna shivered.

"They beat you?" Wouldn't be so bad, I've been beaten before. Tristan stopped eating to look hard at Donna.

"Oh no. Nothing like that. They want you to learn from your mistakes. With me, they figured out that if they have everyone give me the silent treatment, it drives me nuts. I hate it enough that I won't break the rules." Donna shivered again. "So, is it true that you two came from a slave camp?"

Chapter 8 - Part A

2004-11-25T14:24:00.001-08:00

[Author's Notes] Okay, I'm not sure about the Chapter break, but here goes. Oh those of you wondering, I'm sick today which is why I'm here instead of playing with a 5 month old baby. While I'm having fun here, I wish I was with that 5 month old baby. There's only so much time to enjoy the pre-crawling, post-sack phase. Of course the post-crawling, pre-walking/running stage is fun too but not enough time!

What a fascinating school. I must have someone investigate it further. Someone whom I can trust, who will blend in seamlessly, who will look the part. Or should I just befriend one of your newly acquired friendships? Hmm, so many possiblities. And who's to say whether I won't examine them all. After all, savoring one's eventual victory is paramount to one's ultimate enjoyment, isn't it?

********

Donna slipped away to finish up her chores and Tristan stood near the doorway of the kitchen taking then entire site in. To her right was the gates and past that were the stables. Almost directly across from her, just off center rose one of the stairwells up into the sky, only this one was larger than the other two. In between all the arches, a triangular platform, the first of six, rose a few feet above the ground. Five steps leading up to the platform surrounded it and on the platform, about two dozen girls were practicing with long sticks.

Agatha emerged from the kitchen and headed towards the large arch. "Don't let Miss Donna talk you into anything that you're unsure about. That ol' Donna, she's a charmer and well, just don't let her okay?" Tristan nodded quickly then asked, "Why is that one larger?" She pointed at the approaching arch. "Patience. That's something you should learn, then teach Donna."

[Author's Notes] Every story should have a scoundrel and yes, Donna's it. Some would say that I'm the scoundrel in their lives, so there's going to be a lot of me in Donna. She's already proving fun to write.

"Ah, Cece's finally arrived." Agatha waved to Cece who looked tired. Clucking, Agatha took the cloak off Cece's sweating back, "Next time Remy and I want to drag you hiking, you'd better go. Look at you." Panting too hard to reply, all Cece did was glare at Agatha. Without a further word, she led the way into the large arch.

Tristan blinked hard when she entered. She had expected it to be dark inside since no sunlight seemed to penetrate the walls but it was quite bright. Cece noticed her astonishment and pointed to slits along the walls. She went over to take a look. The walls were about a foot deep and the slits were about six inches wide. There were enough of them to let sunlight pour in and since the walls and floor were made of marble, the reflection illuminated the shadows.

They had walked into a small receiving area where muddied boots lined up one wall, clean ones lined another. In the corners were stands for umbrellas and raincoats. Agatha explained. "Each arch has a room like this. It rains quite often but usually only one third of the student body are outside. So, on rainy days, the ones slated to be outside grab the clean ones, then assigned students take the muddy ones and clean them putting up on the clean shelves. That way, the ones who couldn't afford boots could still have them during rainy days."

They walked through the reception area into a landing where a large staircase rose around the center, following the perimeter. Tristan stood in the center of the landing and looked up at the semi-spiraling staircase rising up above her and she twirled around, dizzying herself. "Wheeeee! Hey! One side leans into the opposite!" She peered up trying to steady her gaze. Cece finally caught her breath and said, "This is an arch, remember? At a point up there where the arch curves steeply, it becomes just one long stairs instead of four along the edges." "OH!"

Chapter 7 - Part E

2004-11-25T13:02:00.000-08:00

"Coming with me or are you going to wait for Cece?" Agatha asked with an inviting smile. Tristan quickly scrambled to her feet and climbed on top of the seat next to Agatha. "With you, please." Agatha clucked and the horse pulling the cart begrudgingly trudged on. With soothing clucks, Agatha told the horse that it's only a few short yards and that it could have it's weight in sugar if it wanted. At that, the horse seemed to trot a little faster.

The path up the hill was a winding one; however, Tristan could see well worn foot paths slicing through the main path. Obviously the main path was for goods. Turning around to kneel on her knees on the cart bench, she looked down the hill. It was apparent the woods leading up to this hidden valley was pretty small compared to the countryside. But she had been looking up at the mountain the entire journey. Why hadn't she seen this gleaming shiny building?

Agatha answered her question. "Just beyond us, where the mountain protects us are unpassable cliffs. The mountain circles around the school so you can only see the school if you're just south of it. Well, the cliffs circle around to the south; thus the only way to get to the school is if you're west or southwest. From those directions, you can only see the mountain, not the school itself. In terms of defensive strategy, it's the most protected school in the realm. However, it's a bitch to work around offensively, that is, if you listen to Remy."

Tristan nodded. "Only one way out? You know Agatha?" Tristan stopped seeing through her eyes, looking back at the past. "I was worried about that during the fight. I got Tiny into the corner, but part of me was worried that if we had to run for it, we had to run into Arete and his gang. But then I thought if they had a chance to get at us from all sides, they would. I just figured..." Agatha reined the horse into a walk giving Tristan a chance to finish with the past before facing her with her future. "... with two sides safe, I could make sure at least Tiny'd make it out alive. Say, Agatha!"

"Yes?" Agatha didn't look at Tristan but the smile was there in that one word.

"You guys stopped the fight! I just realized it. Weren't you supposed to wait for four survivors? I mean, that's how it's been the last few times." Tristan wondered why that realization never occured to her before.

"Hmm, yes, yes, I'd say a few rules were broken in the process." Agatha clucked amusedly to herself. "I dare say that our invitation would be rescinded next year. Actually, it was Cece who said that." She glanced over at Tristan still clucking. "Curious, really. This is probably the first and last year we'd get permission to hand out scholarships. Apparently, that slave camp was producing such poor quality candidates that schools were requesting coin to attend, figuring the camp was profiting enough from the attendance. We were the only school left that didn't require a fee."

[Author's Notes] Again, another big surprise. Agatha is surprising me more and more. She's really taken on a life of her own. Somehow in my mind, it's Tyne Daly who plays Agatha. Maxine, the character she plays on Judging Amy, isn't like Agatha at all though. I like Maxine enough that I might make her into a character, though I'm not sure I know where to put her yet. Every story could do with a no-nonsense, straight-talking-till-it bleeds, type. Maybe Agatha is a kinder gentler Maxine LOL I'm having too much fun amusing myself. Gotta remember, THIS is the reason I write. It helps that I have the soundtrack to Bend it Like Beckham in the background and it's just happy music.

Agatha ruffled Tristan's hair. "Want me to point out stuff?" At Tristan's nod, Agatha gestured, "Those gates are worked by a pulley system operated by that wheel over there to the left. We have three students on duty at all times. You'll be expected to participate." Tristan looked over at the three girls loiling about near the wheel. Two of them peered over scrolls, while the third was exercising. They all seemed strong and healthy. As she watched on, the one exercising took out a scroll to read, and one of the ones reading stood up to exercise.

As they entered the school, Tristan realized that the mountain nearly totally encircled the school. The gates were each about eight feet across and the stone walls on either side each were about thirty feet across. The rest of the protection surrounding the school was the mountain. The diameter of the encirclement was probably about 500 feet, perhaps more. This place was huge!

Agatha pointed out the stables to the right saying that's probably where Tiny would be since the smithy was there too. Beyond that were gardens. Agatha, with obvious pride, said "That's where you'll be learning about plants and herbs. My department." She pulled the horse towards the left just past the wheel to a wondrous smelling building. "The kitchen," Agatha explained. Half a dozen girls poured out of the building as Agatha drew up, squealing as they looked over the delivery.

Just then, they noticed Tristan, who blushed under the scrutiny. One of them, a reddish-brown haired, freckled girl, came over with one eyebrow arched and a twinkle in her eye. "So, Aggie, is this for us to stew?"

"No, nor is she for you to stew." Hoots of laughter followed. "G'wan, Donna. Be off. Give Tristan a bit of time to adjust before you set your claws into her." Agatha's clucking betrayed her amusement. Tristan jumped off the cart after Agatha but soon found herself circled by Donna. "Hey Aggie, this little lemur needs some muscle if she wants ta - HEY!" Tristan couldn't help herself; she dropped to a crouch, stuck out a leg and swept around in a circle, effectively sweeping Donna off her feet. Standing up, she held out her hand to help Donna up. "Nah, muscle slows you down," Tristan said with a grin.

Laughing, Donna let herself get helped up and yelled out to Agatha, "Good one, Aggie! I approve!" Tristan could hear Agatha clucking "as if we needed your approval" just as Donna wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Name's Donna. Yours?"

"Tristan." And a strong friendship began.

Chapter 7 - Part D (Changing direction)

2004-11-25T11:40:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Okay, so it took me more time to get my thoughts together than I thought. I had decided to change the look of the school and the result is, it took me a lot longer to figure out what I wanted. The changes I had decided on, my partner thinks it's too futuristic looking (I had drawn a VERY rough sketch of what I was envisioning). She says it looks like something out of Star Wars. But I keep thinking that that's kind of what I'm shooting for, the school being a more futuristic way of looking at life. In any event, if anything in my imagination, it's like the elf city in LOTR.

I'm going to reprint what I'm editing. I've decided to change it from the moment she sets eyes on the towers. I'm also adding some time to their walk to make the distance a tad more realistic. Thanks for your patience and let's hope I can get about 8-10,000 words under my belt today.

She stopped short at the edge. Tiny slammed into her hard and they both tumbled to the ground. Giggling as they untangled themselves, Tristan found herself leaning on an elbow, looking up the hill.

Her mouth opened gradually widening into an "O". The hill must open up to a large plateau. She craned her neck. The mountain sloped steeply into the valley that the school was located then abruptly encircled the valley from behind sloping gradually into another steep cliff. It seemed as though the mountain was protectively bending a limb around the school. Remy pulled up just then and noticed her gaze. Explaining, she said, "Cece believes that before the school existed, a falling star fell to the earth and slammed into the mountain. Me, I just like that the mountain protects us from all direction 'cept the front."

Tristan stared at the strange structure in front of her. The mountain stretched towards itself in the front, but couldn't form a circle so the school had a stone wall to help the two ends come together. In the middle of the wall, were two large black gates that were open right now. She stared into the gap as Remy rode her horse through.

What was beyond those gates was a structure she had never seen the likes of before. Not that she had seen much in her life, but all the buildings she had seen up to now, she could figure out some sort of explanation on how they built it. She had seen buildings made of stone, of mud, of straw, of wood. But this, this! Before her mind could provide an answer to a question her eyes provided, her eyes found more stuff to wonder about. She glanced at Tiny and noted that he was overwhelmed by the vision as well.

In the gigantic courtyard beyond the gates, three beams rose up out of the ground to arch gracefully into each other, meeting at the top. At the top of the three arches, a spire rose up to reach for the clouds. Joining the three arches were triangular platforms whose corners jutted out in between two of the arches on each side. The platforms widened at the base of the arches and were open to the elements on the lower three levels. The top five levels were enclosed in glass it seemed. Tristan and Tiny stood there staring until Agatha caught up to them.

Agatha stopped her cart next to them and said, "Breathtaking, isn't it? Seeing you two, reminds me of the first time I set eyes on that wondrous building." Both Tiny and Tristan nodded eagerly. Tristan asked a tad shyly, "Who made that? And how?" Agatha laughed and answered, "Well, that'll be part of your education here." Tiny then asked, "How do we get up there?" and pointed toward then enclosed areas.

Tristan pondered a moment then ventured an answer in response to Agatha's questioning look. "I think that's what those beams are for," and was rewarded with an approving smile from Agatha. "Agatha, can we get up to that spire up there?" Agatha nodded but said, "Well, it's possible for you to get up there. Whether it's permissable, that's another question," and she laughed at her own response. "See, that's where Cece, Remy and I sleep, and meet with one another when we don't want students around. Only a few students have been permitted up there, and usually, it's not for rewards, if you know what I mean." Tristan gulped loudly. "Do you kill people up there?"

Agatha's clucking laughter followed. "No, but I dare say Remy's thought about it. Speaking of whom, Tiny, I think Remy's calling for you." Both Tristan and Tiny looked through the open gates and saw Remy gesturing for Tiny to follow. Tiny gave Tristan a quick hug whispering in her ear, "Don't you dare leave without me," and ran off to join Remy.

[Author's Notes] Okay, I'm sitting here grinning like a kid who just found a bag of candy cause I didn't expect Tristan to ask that question, AND I didn't expect Agatha's response. My other was right. I am a lot happier writing than not, so why don't I do this more often? Why do I get so scared of the blank page? I'm kind of glad that I didn't write these past 10 days cause I'm not sure I would've liked what I wrote. But I'm certainly enjoing myself right now. These past four paragraphs pretty much wrote themselves. And I know 60% of this will be tossed out in rewrites, but damn if I'm not happy with some of this stuff.

Chapter 7

2004-11-25T10:37:00.000-08:00

Behold your future, little prophecy. Here, you shall grow in strength, in thought, in health. Here, you shall acquire fearlessness, stoutness and perhaps even reknown. Here is where you'll return to lick your wounds for this shall be your home. Enjoy it while you can. For every moment of bliss you have here, I shall be using those moments to build the foundation for my revenge.

*******

Both Tristan and Tiny were walking alongside the wagon that carried their supplies and tents. Tristan limped along as the red stain on her trouser leg spread. Both of them would run ahead to the head of the caravan where Remy was, then they hung back until Cece at the rear caught up to them. This way, they had some time to take in their surroundings.

"Tristan! Look! I've never seen birds soar like that before!" Tiny pointed up at about a dozen birds circling quite a distance away from them. "Wow, they don't flap hardly at all! What's keeping them up there?"

Agatha clucked a chuckle and explained, "They're gliding on gusts of wind. Those are vultures - scavenger birds. You two know what scavenger means?" Without waiting for an answer, Agatha continued "They look for creatures that recently died, then they eat their corpses. Filthy things really, but from a distance when they're flying, all you can see is the beauty of their ability." Agatha continued pacing the wagon. "If you want to know how they fly, ask Cece. If you want to know how they defend themselves, ask Remy. I can tell you what they eat, among other things."

Tristan beamed at Agatha. So many things the three of them knew! She loved talking most to Agatha because she felt safest with her. Agatha, of the three, had the most soothing and benign demeanor. She had a feeling she could tell Agatha almost anything and Agatha would react the same, with a gentle smile and a questioning look that only showed concern.

She turned to Tiny. "Let's hang back a while and watch the.." she glanced at Agatha and "Vultures" was volunteered. "Vultures," she repeated more to herself than anyone. Tiny agreed and they watched the birds dance their circular ritual. Part of her regretted hanging back as the more she watched, the more questions she had. Like why were they circling? Was it a dance? She shrugged, content to just watch the birds for a little while.

She looked down the path and saw that it wound through a wooded area. Cece caught up to them at this point and paused to chat with them a while. It was time for their geography lesson again. "Before you is the Vindu Woods, so called for the large Vindu tree that grows near the center of it. We'll be heading north for a little while, but the path will wind eastward. Can you two see above the trees?" Both nodded affirmatively. "What do you see? And in what direction?"

Tiny stood on tiptoe and pointed to a peak. "Mountaintop .. umm to the west?" When Cece shook her head, he looked dejected.

Smiling a little, Cece quickly said "Three quarters right." and Tiny stood up straighter. She added "Yes, mountaintop, but to the northwest. See? It's a little to the left, not all the way to the left. You're facing north remember?" Turning to Tristan, she said "You're a little taller, what do you see, and what do you deduce?"

Tipping on her toes, Tristan said, "Since the mountaintop is there and it's going down -" Cece interrupted "Sloping down" and Tristan repeated "Sloping down towards where we're heading, then we must be going to where the bottom of the mountain is." She beamed at Cece knowing she was right. She was, and got a large smile for her efforts. "Okay, thanks Cece! We'll be back!"

The duo dashed ahead, passing the wagon with a laughing Agatha waving at them. They caught up to Remy panting. Tsking, she said, "Panting after a short sprint like that. I'm going to make it so you two can run up that mountain without panting. Squeals of "You promise?" amidst pants made Remy laugh.

Remy trotted along on her horse in silence, but occasionally pointing out things that might be interesting to two youngsters who'd been locked up for a while. She showed them birds hidden in the trees, insects tucked between leaves, snakes slithering between rocks. Then she would sweep her arm, to indicate for them to see the vista. Every time the two changed focus, squeals of delight would follow.

Noticing that the two were slowing down, Remy said, "We're getting to the bend in the road. From there, the edge of the forest is a 20 minute brisk walk. You'll be able to see the Foundation from there. And from there, it's another 40 minute walk" The comments produced the predictable outcome; Tristan and Tiny walked faster.

"Remy? Is that the mountain I see in front of us? Between the trunks?" Tristan queried. A grunt from Remy told Tristan she was right. Her excitement showed, she skipped as she walked. Led by her, Remy and Tiny followed, the last bit of the path taken in silence.

Tristan could see the edge of the woods now. Before her, the path wound past the trees, up a gradual incline that gained steepness at the top. She couldn't see what was atop that hill yet and so her pace quickened. She broke into a run with Tiny not far behind.

She stopped short at the edge. Tiny slammed into her hard and they both tumbled to the ground. Giggling as they untangled themselves, Tristan found herself leaning on an elbow, looking up the hill.

Her mouth opened gradually widening into an "O". The hill must open up to a large plateau. She craned her neck. The mountain sloped steeply into the valley that the school was located then abruptly encircled the valley from behind sloping gradually into another steep cliff. It seemed as though the mountain was protectively bending a limb around the school. Remy pulled up just then and noticed her gaze. Explaining, she said, "Cece believes that before the school existed, a falling star fell to the earth and slammed into the mountain. Me, I just like that the mountain protects us from all direction 'cept the front."

Tristan stared at the strange structure in front of her. The mountain stretched towards itself in the front, but couldn't form a circle so the school had a stone wall to help the two ends come together. In the middle of the wall, were two large black gates that were open right now. She stared into the gap as Remy rode her horse through.

What was beyond those gates was a structure she had never seen the likes of before. Not that she had seen much in her life, but all the buildings she had seen up to now, she could figure out some sort of explanation on how they built it. She had seen buildings made of stone, of mud, of straw, of wood. But this, this! Before her mind could provide an answer to a question her eyes provided, her eyes found more stuff to wonder about. She glanced at Tiny and noted that he was overwhelmed by the vision as well.

In the gigantic courtyard beyond the gates, three beams rose up out of the ground to arch gracefully into each other, meeting at the top. At the top of the three arches, a spire rose up to reach for the clouds. Joining the three arches were triangular platforms whose corners jutted out in between two of the arches on each side. The platforms widened at the base of the arches and were open to the elements on the lower three levels. The top five levels were enclosed in glass it seemed. Tristan and Tiny stood there staring until Agatha caught up to them.

Agatha stopped her cart next to them and said, "Breathtaking, isn't it? Seeing you two, reminds me of the first time I set eyes on that wondrous building." Both Tiny and Tristan nodded eagerly. Tristan asked a tad shyly, "Who made that? And how?" Agatha laughed and answered, "Well, that'll be part of your education here." Tiny then asked, "How do we get up there?" and pointed toward then enclosed areas.

Tristan pondered a moment then ventured an answer in response to Agatha's questioning look. "I think that's what those beams are for," and was rewarded with an approving smile from Agatha. "Agatha, can we get up to that spire up there?" Agatha nodded but said, "Well, it's possible for you to get up there. Whether it's permissable, that's another question," and she laughed at her own response. "See, that's where Cece, Remy and I sleep, and meet with one another when we don't want students around. Only a few students have been permitted up there, and usually, it's not for rewards, if you know what I mean." Tristan gulped loudly. "Do you kill people up there?"

Agatha's clucking laughter followed. "No, but I dare say Remy's thought about it. Speaking of whom, Tiny, I think Remy's calling for you." Both Tristan and Tiny looked through the open gates and saw Remy gesturing for Tiny to follow. Tiny gave Tristan a quick hug whispering in her ear, "Don't you dare leave without me," and ran off to join Remy.

"Coming with me or are you going to wait for Cece?" Agatha asked with an inviting smile. Tristan quickly scrambled to her feet and climbed on top of the seat next to Agatha. "With you, please." Agatha clucked and the horse pulling the cart begrudgingly trudged on. With soothing clucks, Agatha told the horse that it's only a few short yards and that it could have it's weight in sugar if it wanted. At that, the horse seemed to trot a little faster.

The path up the hill was a winding one; however, Tristan could see well worn foot paths slicing through the main path. Obviously the main path was for goods. Turning around to kneel on her knees on the cart bench, she looked down the hill. It was apparent the woods leading up to this hidden valley was pretty small compared to the countryside. But she had been looking up at the mountain the entire journey. Why hadn't she seen this gleaming shiny building?

Agatha answered her question. "Just beyond us, where the mountain protects us are unpassable cliffs. The mountain circles around the school so you can only see the school if you're just south of it. Well, the cliffs circle around to the south; thus the only way to get to the school is if you're west or southwest. From those directions, you can only see the mountain, not the school itself. In terms of defensive strategy, it's the most protected school in the realm. However, it's a bitch to work around offensively, that is, if you listen to Remy."

Tristan nodded. "Only one way out? You know Agatha?" Tristan stopped seeing through her eyes, looking back at the past. "I was worried about that during the fight. I got Tiny into the corner, but part of me was worried that if we had to run for it, we had to run into Arete and his gang. But then I thought if they had a chance to get at us from all sides, they would. I just figured..." Agatha reined the horse into a walk giving Tristan a chance to finish with the past before facing her with her future. "... with two sides safe, I could make sure at least Tiny'd make it out alive. Say, Agatha!"

"Yes?" Agatha didn't look at Tristan but the smile was there in that one word.

"You guys stopped the fight! I just realized it. Weren't you supposed to wait for four survivors? I mean, that's how it's been the last few times." Tristan wondered why that realization never occured to her before.

"Hmm, yes, yes, I'd say a few rules were broken in the process." Agatha clucked amusedly to herself. "I dare say that our invitation would be rescinded next year. Actually, it was Cece who said that." She glanced over at Tristan still clucking. "Curious, really. This is probably the first and last year we'd get permission to hand out scholarships. Apparently, that slave camp was producing such poor quality candidates that schools were requesting coin to attend, figuring the camp was profiting enough from the attendance. We were the only school left that didn't require a fee."

Agatha ruffled Tristan's hair. "Want me to point out stuff?" At Tristan's nod, Agatha gestured, "Those gates are worked by a pulley system operated by that wheel over there to the left. We have three students on duty at all times. You'll be expected to participate." Tristan looked over at the three girls loiling about near the wheel. Two of them peered over scrolls, while the third was exercising. They all seemed strong and healthy. As she watched on, the one exercising took out a scroll to read, and one of the ones reading stood up to exercise.

As they entered the school, Tristan realized that the mountain nearly totally encircled the school. The gates were each about eight feet across and the stone walls on either side each were about thirty feet across. The rest of the protection surrounding the school was the mountain. The diameter of the encirclement was probably about 500 feet, perhaps more. This place was huge!

Agatha pointed out the stables to the right saying that's probably where Tiny would be since the smithy was there too. Beyond that were gardens. Agatha, with obvious pride, said "That's where you'll be learning about plants and herbs. My department." She pulled the horse towards the left just past the wheel to a wondrous smelling building. "The kitchen," Agatha explained. Half a dozen girls poured out of the building as Agatha drew up, squealing as they looked over the delivery.

Just then, they noticed Tristan, who blushed under the scrutiny. One of them, a reddish-brown haired, freckled girl, came over with one eyebrow arched and a twinkle in her eye. "So, Aggie, is this for us to stew?"

"No, nor is she for you to stew." Hoots of laughter followed. "G'wan, Donna. Be off. Give Tristan a bit of time to adjust before you set your claws into her." Agatha's clucking betrayed her amusement. Tristan jumped off the cart after Agatha but soon found herself circled by Donna. "Hey Aggie, this little lemur needs some muscle if she wants ta - HEY!" Tristan couldn't help herself; she dropped to a crouch, stuck out a leg and swept around in a circle, effectively sweeping Donna off her feet. Standing up, she held out her hand to help Donna up. "Nah, muscle slows you down," Tristan said with a grin.

Laughing, Donna let herself get helped up and yelled out to Agatha, "Good one, Aggie! I approve!" Tristan could hear Agatha clucking "as if we needed your approval" just as Donna wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Name's Donna. Yours?"

"Tristan." And a strong friendship began.

Author's Notes 11/16/04

2004-11-16T18:03:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] For those of you checking in frequently, so sorry. Real life took over for almost a week. First off, when I lost those two paragraphs, I had NO idea what I was typing and didn't get my thought back until oh about 3 in the morning. Secondly, my other decided that since my 40th wasn't a good birthday and my 41st hadn't been much better, both due to financial difficulties, she threw me a surprise b-day party on Saturday.

Well, the floor wasn't finished. So, in order to get the place ready for a party, I had to help her out. (LOL) AND then! We realized that her car (from FL) wasn't going to pass the smog check here in CA. Therefore, she couldn't drive it anymore. Since she works less than 10 miles away (around 8) she decided that she's going to bike to work every day. So Sunday was spent buying a bike, buying accessories so she'd be safe riding around town, and putting on accessories.

I'm a worrywart. So, I spent Sunday night and all Monday worried about her riding a bike to work. Needless to say, I was exhausted last night from fretting. So, another night went by without words being created for a novel. She rode to work with wet hair and was cold all day. And guess what, she woke up this morning with strep throat. So, my evening will be spent making sure she's comfy and has everything she needs. I'll be back tomorrow hopefully to get 1500 words or more under my belt.

She is leaving on the 22nd to go home for the holidays. I'll have 8 days of (four of them nearly full days) solitude and am hoping to make up the difference then. But this novel won't be finished for another 5 or 6 months I think. I think the first 50,000 will be one half, maybe only a third. *sighs* Now, why can't I be ambitious when it comes to money?

See you tomorrow!

Chapter 7 - Part C

2004-11-12T09:10:00.001-08:00

Beyond the archway, Tristan could see the base of the far tower. Far Tower? She could hear Cece's voice in her head already, and she giggled. No, far tower wouldn't make it as a description to Cece; too subjective. Instead, she thought back and remembered that the path and the forest approached the Foundation from the west. So, if the far tower lay beyond the archway, it was the East Tower. That made the left tower the North Tower and the right the South. She grinned at herself. Ready for that line of questioning!

Two stone walls extended out from the East Tower at an angle, and looked like they joined up with the North and South wall respectively.

Chapter 7 - Part B

2004-11-11T16:45:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Happy Birthday to Me! Lucky me, I actually survived this long. A whopping 41 years. Okay enough celebrations. Time to work

Remy trotted along on her horse in silence, but occasionally pointing out things that might be interesting to two youngsters who'd been locked up for a while. She showed them birds hidden in the trees, insects tucked between leaves, snakes slithering between rocks. Then she would sweep her arm, to indicate for them to see the vista. Every time the two changed focus, squeals of delight would follow.

Noticing that the two were slowing down, Remy said, "We're getting to the bend in the road. From there, the edge of the forest is a 10 minute brisk walk. You'll be able to see the Foundation from there." The comments produced the predictable outcome; Tristan and Tiny walked faster.

"Remy? Is that the mountain I see in front of us? Between the trunks?" Tristan queried. A grunt from Remy told Tristan she was right. Her excitement showed, she skipped as she walked. Led by her, Remy and Tiny followed, the last bit of the path taken in silence.

[Author's Notes] Okay, here's the hard part for me. As a reader, I tend to bleep over descriptions and get to the meat of the story. I don't need much for my over active imagination for me to see what's going on. Yes, guilty as charged. I'm a speed reader. So, in my own writings, I usually leave the descriptions for the 2nd or 3rd draft. By then, I'm so immersed in the story that I pretty much know what everything looks like. However, this is the first view the reader has of the school. Since the school itself can be considered a symbol, if you want - or a non-living character, AND the school can't speak for itself and show itself to the reader, my character has to provide that. Part of the reason why this chapter was hard to write was I realized I had to visualize the complete school. I didn't need to do that for the slave camp. Anyway, here goes.

Tristan could see the edge of the woods now. Before her, the path wound past the trees, up a gradual incline that gained steepness at the top. She couldn't see what was atop that hill yet and so her pace quickened. She broke into a run with Tiny not far behind.

She stopped short at the edge. Tiny slammed into her hard and they both tumbled to the ground. Giggling as they untangled themselves, Tristan found herself leaning on an elbo, looking up the hill.

Her mouth opened gradually widening into an "O". The hill must open up to a large plateau. Before her, two gigantic towers loomed with a wall of stone between them. She craned her neck. The mountain came to an abrupt cliff right where the left tower began but the mountain seamed to curl around the back sloping down until it reached the bottom of the right tower. Kind of like an arm protecting the back. Another smaller tower stood between the two large ones, but further to the back.

Looking back, she saw that Remy had just reached them. "Can we?" Tristan pleaded and Remy nodded with a chortle. "C'mon Tiny! Race you to the top!" and she took off, her legs pounding her feet into the ground. She slowed down as she neared the top, never taking her eyes off the huge building in front of her. She realized she was wrong. The tower in the back wasn't smaller. It grew bigger before her eye faster than the other two and she realized the tower was probably a lot further back than she realized. She also realized the two towers were a lot further apart than she had at first thought.

[Author's Notes] That's right! I was also going to come up with how the Foundation came to be. And how this hugeass building came to be. Who said writing a novel was easy?

She sat down on the meadow and answered Remy's questioning look with "I'm just going to wait here for Agatha." With an understanding look, Remy trotted off through the large archway in the middle of the stone wall shouting greetings. Tiny, with a sheepish look, said "I'm going to go after Remy. She said she had a job in mind for me, and well," he shuffled his feet, "I want to make sure they get their coin's worth." Without waiting for a response, Tiny ran off after Remy.

Where the mountain touched the left tower, there was a waterfall, no, two. One that fell towards the meadows where she was, and one that must fall on the other side of the tower, where the mountain arced behind. She could hears two different roars. The archway looked like it were two stories high; yes, she could see a couple of windows near each tower between the top of the archway and the ground.

[Author's Notes] I just got banned from the living room. Apparently I wreak havoc every time I walk in. I tried to stop when she told me not to walk on the loose board! My momentum just carried me forward and ... well, she has to redo part of the flooring now. *sighs* Left here with nothing to do except write. Woe is me.

I am so fucking pissed. I just lost another two paragraphs. She came in and made me feel better and told me to go on. I swear I have to stop losing goddamn paragraphs. I NEED A NEW MAC!!!!!

Chapter 7 - Part A

2004-11-10T19:46:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Obviously I took a night off. I was stupid the night before last and passed out playing Sims on my Xbox without visualizing the next scene. Thus, nothing. Zip. Nada. Writer's Block. I'm now about 6,000 words behind. Wonder how much I can do tonight and wonder how much I can do tomorrow. I'd like to get around 4-5000 words in but so far, I'm only averaging 1500 words a day, which isn't enough for the 50,000. I'm tired of all this set up stuff. I still have to set up Kat before I get to the good parts where Kat and Tristan finally meet. Trudging on.

OH! And my other told me that in the last chapter, the Queen's voice sounded more like me than the Queen. Those that know me, is that true? LOL Oh well, I have to figure out a way to recapture her voice. Just reread all her entries and while I captured part of her voice last time, it wasn't as ... snarky as the rest of them. Okay, snarky, here I come.

Behold your future, little prophecy. Here, you shall grow in strength, in thought, in health. Here, you shall acquire fearlessness, stoutness and perhaps even reknown. Here is where you'll return to lick your wounds for this shall be your home. Enjoy it while you can. For every moment of bliss you have here, I shall be using those moments to build the foundation for my revenge.

*******

Both Tristan and Tiny were walking alongside the wagon that carried their supplies and tents. Tristan limped along as the red stain on her trouser leg spread. Both of them would run ahead to the head of the caravan where Remy was, then they hung back until Cece at the rear caught up to them. This way, they had some time to take in their surroundings.

"Tristan! Look! I've never seen birds soar like that before!" Tiny pointed up at about a dozen birds circling quite a distance away from them. "Wow, they don't flap hardly at all! What's keeping them up there?"

Agatha clucked a chuckle and explained, "They're gliding on gusts of wind. Those are vultures - scavenger birds. You two know what scavenger means?" Without waiting for an answer, Agatha continued "They look for creatures that recently died, then they eat their corpses. Filthy things really, but from a distance when they're flying, all you can see is the beauty of their ability." Agatha continued pacing the wagon. "If you want to know how they fly, ask Cece. If you want to know how they defend themselves, ask Remy. I can tell you what they eat, among other things."

Tristan beamed at Agatha. So many things the three of them knew! She loved talking most to Agatha because she felt safest with her. Agatha, of the three, had the most soothing and benign demeanor. She had a feeling she could tell Agatha almost anything and Agatha would react the same, with a gentle smile and a questioning look that only showed concern.

She turned to Tiny. "Let's hang back a while and watch the.." she glanced at Agatha and "Vultures" was volunteered. "Vultures," she repeated more to herself than anyone. Tiny agreed and they watched the birds dance their circular ritual. Part of her regretted hanging back as the more she watched, the more questions she had. Like why were they circling? Was it a dance? She shrugged, content to just watch the birds for a little while.

She looked down the path and saw that it wound through a wooded area. Cece caught up to them at this point and paused to chat with them a while. It was time for their geography lesson again. "Before you is the Vindu Woods, so called for the large Vindu tree that grows near the center of it. We'll be heading north for a little while, but the path will wind eastward. Can you two see above the trees?" Both nodded affirmatively. "What do you see? And in what direction?"

Tiny stood on tiptoe and pointed to a peak. "Mountaintop .. umm to the west?" When Cece shook her head, he looked dejected.

Smiling a little, Cece quickly said "Three quarters right." and Tiny stood up straighter. She added "Yes, mountaintop, but to the northwest. See? It's a little to the left, not all the way to the left. You're facing north remember?" Turning to Tristan, she said "You're a little taller, what do you see, and what do you deduce?"

Tipping on her toes, Tristan said, "Since the mountaintop is there and it's going down -" Cece interrupted "Sloping down" and Tristan repeated "Sloping down towards where we're heading, then we must be going to where the bottom of the mountain is." She beamed at Cece knowing she was right. She was, and got a large smile for her efforts. "Okay, thanks Cece! We'll be back!"

The duo dashed ahead, passing the wagon with a laughing Agatha waving at them. They caught up to Remy panting. Tsking, she said, "Panting after a short sprint like that. I'm going to make it so you two can run up that mountain without panting. Squeals of "You promise?" amidst pants made Remy laugh.

[Author's Notes] Okay, more tomorrow.

Chapter 6 - part 2

2004-11-08T20:26:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Okay, you're asking where's part one? Well, it's Extraneous Scene #1. Actually, that scene is going in between the Queen's words and the following scene. Don't worry, if you're confused, read Chapter 6 in it's entirety.

They say revenge is a desert, with the only oasis under your protection. This saying has plagued me for years. I've pondered its meaning, envisioned the imagery and yet, there is something not quite satisfying about it. I much prefer to think of revenge as a winding path up a mountain with occasional drops along the way. As soon as victory over the mountain is achieved, a rockfall prevents the descent, leaving either starvation or a plunge into the abyss. Now, that can be considered revenge.

*******

[Author's Notes] Okay now insert Extraneous Scene #1 here. There ya go. Now proceed.

*******

Bending a leg to place her ankle on her other knee, Tristan relaxed under the shade of the tree. Ever since Tiny woke up ten days ago, life has been bliss. If someone had told her that this had been in store for her, she would've fought harder during the competition. Thinking for a moment about the fate of the other survivors, she wondered whether Arite was among them. She shuddered off the thought. Now wasn't a time for unpleasantries; now was a time to thank the gods that they both survived.

At first, Tristan didn't talk much. She had quickly surmised that for each question she asked, it somehow signified that questions were asked of her. However, her natural curiosity got the better of her since she also quickly realized that few of the trio's actions weren't deliberate.

Questions like "Why are you changing Tiny's bandages when the blood's stopped?" resulted in questions like "How did you get to the slave camps?" No one in her young life had ever taken an interest quite like theirs and she found their queries a bit discomforting. But her instinct to learn overtook her reservation and soon she answered theirs eagerly knowing this exchange of information benefitted her.

She had told them all she could remember. She had memories of voices, of smells, fleeting images. One night, before Tiny had awoken, she had told them her first full coherent memory - the one of fire, of screams, of cries, of fear and desperation, of heartbreak. She still would wake from dreams of being scared, running away from fire, of being wrenched away from someone she needed and loved. "Your mother?" they asked. But she couldn't say for sure. They left it alone until a few nights later.

They asked what she remembered after the fire. Tristan just shrugged and said, "I just remember the slave camp after that." That of course led to what her life was like in the camps. Not about the conditions, for they already knew, but rather what she observed, what she thought of all that, her reactions. When they asked why did she choose Tiny to protect, she just said, "He made me laugh."

Tiny plopped down beside her disturbing her reverie. "How soon before we get to the school do you think?" Tristan had to laugh. "You ask me that every time we make a stop. And my answer's the same. How am I supposed to know?" She ruffled Tiny's hair.

"I think it's soon now. We've been on the road a while. Look, I'm almost healed up! And you... well, if you ever sat still, maybe your wounds wouldn't open up again." Tiny pointed to an expanding red spot on her trouser leg.

"Umm excuse me, Sir Smart-mouth. What am I doing right now?" Tristan harumphed.

Tiny pointed an accusatory finger at her. "Practicing what you've learned from Remy in your mind!"

Tristan blushed hard. She was just about to refute Tiny when she realized she had been clenching this muscle and that. "G'wan! Get away from me 'fore I tickle you senseless." She ran after him laughing.

Seeing Cece beckon both of them, they ran over. "Did you two remember to fill up your water sacs?" Both children patted the full sacs they each carried around their belt. "Okay, it should only be a half day's ride from here."

"See!" Tiny whopped Tristan on the arm. "I told you we were close!"

More notes 11/8/04

2004-11-08T19:07:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Okay, that extraneous scene was about 618 words long. I have another scene in mind and then I can finish out this section which means this is Chapter 6 I guess.

I've decided to have Kat's story be the second section. That way, it won't be obvious that I don't have as much for Kat as I do for Tristan. I wonder how long I could drag that out. OR! Hmm... maybe, I could have one chapter of Kat interspersed between the sections. Ooooh, that can work. That way, I can focus on Tristan and if I have more of Kat's story than I had thought, I'll just make changes. But at least this way I don't feel like I have to do too much on Kat. Yeah, we cheat.

Extraneous Scene #1

2004-11-08T17:55:00.000-08:00

Agatha peeked out of the large to make sure neither Tristan nor Tiny were nearby; she smiled when she heard their voices drift over the small hill to the west. She closed the flap and smiled at the other two. "Well? It's been almost two weeks. What do you two think or feel?" She sat, facing the other two.

Remy laughed heartily. "Need you ask? She's perfect." and Agatha indicated her wholehearted agreement.

"Hmm," Cece rubbed her lips with her thumb and dipped her head in thought.

"Hmm? What do you mean hmm? You're as taken with her as we are." Remy's tone had curiosity and accusation mingled together.

Cece looked off, not really wanting to lock eyes with either of them. "I mean, there are just a couple coincidences, and that makes me ponder, hence the 'hmm'."

"Cece! You just like to think of conspiracies everywhere," accused Remy. "Who knows," she added with a twinkle in her eye, "It may just be the works of Gods."

"Nonsense!" Cece couldn't help herself but was at once admonished by Agatha.

Agatha clucked out a tsk, "Now, Cece. You know not everyone shares your belief that Gods are inventions by men who seek wealth and power. I, myself -"

"Okay you two. Let's not let this degenerate into the same argument." Remy shook her head in disbelief, then muttered to herself "Why did I bring up Gods?" Aloud she said, "Tristan. Remember her? Wasn't she supposed to be the topic? Cece, what's your thinking?"

Realizing the truth behind those words, the other two settled back in their low chairs. Cece continued her train of thought. "As I said, there's two coincidences. One, I can accept. Two - well, the chances of that are astronomically remote. Therefore, the situation and I repeat, it's the situation, not Tristan herself, that gives me pause."

Both Remy and Agatha relaxed, knowing that even though they had the majority in the decision, things were always calmer when all three agreed.

Cece continued. "First of all, the school that we replaced. The circumstances in which their dean disappeared are pretty suspect. Lucky for us that they had to drop out, right?" Unconvinced shrugs were her answer. "Secondly, we get chosen to grant a scholarship. Us! The pariahs of all schools within the realm. That's the coincidence that boggles me." This time, Cece was rewarded by "hmm"s, which was all she wanted.

"The question then becomes, IF there is something behind the coincidences -" Agatha pondered aloud.

Remy finished Agatha's thought, "Do we let this influence our decisions. I say no. I see Tristan as exceptional. From what she describes of time, she can't be older than 7."

"Such heart she's got. Look at how she won't leave Tiny." Agatha sniffed.

"I agree. I am enjoying her questions; it has been a while since I've been challenged." Cece sat up straighter. "And Tiny? What to do about him?"

Remy spoke up. "The blacksmith is in need of a new apprentice. The last one was strong, but dumb; lasted only a month. I'll speak to him about Tiny."

"I'd like to request special training for Tristan under the Heart department," clucked Agatha with a beaming smile.

"I was going to ask the same for the Hand!" sulked Remy.

"As was I with the Head. Hmm, another quandry. How shall we solve this?" Cece looked at the two with puzzlement.

Remy beamed with sudden inspiration. "She's exceptional. We all agree. So why not make an exception for her? Let's all teach her. In due course, she will choose her own specialty, but in the meantime, let's see what's she's made of." Shouts of "Yes!" and applause were her answer.

Notes from 11/8/04

2004-11-08T17:44:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Oh god, I'm so tired today and worn out. My other is making me write - according to her, if she has to lay down flooring, I have to either write or lay down flooring. She's suggesting that writing may be easier - HAH!

The problem is, I chose to end Chapter 5 too soon I think. The next scene isn't a huge scene and happens on the same trip, so I'm wondering if I should just add it on to Chapter 5 instead of having Chapter 6 be a small chapter. Decisions, decisions. *sighs*

Okay, I think I'll just write the next scene without the Queen's comments. That way, if I want to append it to Chapter 5 I can and if it warrants its own chapter, I'll just add in the Queen's comments later. Does anyone think that not revealing what the title of the book means until Ch. 5 is too long of a wait for a reader? Let me know, okay?

Chapter 6

2004-11-08T16:28:00.000-08:00

They say revenge is a desert, with the only oasis under your protection. This saying has plagued me for years. I've pondered its meaning, envisioned the imagery and yet, there is something not quite satisfying about it. I much prefer to think of revenge as a winding path up a mountain with occasional drops along the way. As soon as victory over the mountain is achieved, a rockfall prevents the descent, leaving either starvation or a plunge into the abyss. Now, that can be considered revenge.

*******

Agatha peeked out of the large to make sure neither Tristan nor Tiny were nearby; she smiled when she heard their voices drift over the small hill to the west. She closed the flap and smiled at the other two. "Well? It's been almost two weeks. What do you two think or feel?" She sat, facing the other two.

Remy laughed heartily. "Need you ask? She's perfect." and Agatha indicated her wholehearted agreement.

"Hmm," Cece rubbed her lips with her thumb and dipped her head in thought.

"Hmm? What do you mean hmm? You're as taken with her as we are." Remy's tone had curiosity and accusation mingled together.

Cece looked off, not really wanting to lock eyes with either of them. "I mean, there are just a couple coincidences, and that makes me ponder, hence the 'hmm'."

"Cece! You just like to think of conspiracies everywhere," accused Remy. "Who knows," she added with a twinkle in her eye, "It may just be the works of Gods."

"Nonsense!" Cece couldn't help herself but was at once admonished by Agatha.

Agatha clucked out a tsk, "Now, Cece. You know not everyone shares your belief that Gods are inventions by men who seek wealth and power. I, myself -"

"Okay you two. Let's not let this degenerate into the same argument." Remy shook her head in disbelief, then muttered to herself "Why did I bring up Gods?" Aloud she said, "Tristan. Remember her? Wasn't she supposed to be the topic? Cece, what's your thinking?"

Realizing the truth behind those words, the other two settled back in their low chairs. Cece continued her train of thought. "As I said, there's two coincidences. One, I can accept. Two - well, the chances of that are astronomically remote. Therefore, the situation and I repeat, it's the situation, not Tristan herself, that gives me pause."

Both Remy and Agatha relaxed, knowing that even though they had the majority in the decision, things were always calmer when all three agreed.

Cece continued. "First of all, the school that we replaced. The circumstances in which their dean disappeared are pretty suspect. Lucky for us that they had to drop out, right?" Unconvinced shrugs were her answer. "Secondly, we get chosen to grant a scholarship. Us! The pariahs of all schools within the realm. That's the coincidence that boggles me." This time, Cece was rewarded by "hmm"s, which was all she wanted.

"The question then becomes, IF there is something behind the coincidences -" Agatha pondered aloud.

Remy finished Agatha's thought, "Do we let this influence our decisions. I say no. I see Tristan as exceptional. From what she describes of time, she can't be older than 7."

"Such heart she's got. Look at how she won't leave Tiny." Agatha sniffed.

"I agree. I am enjoying her questions; it has been a while since I've been challenged." Cece sat up straighter. "And Tiny? What to do about him?"

Remy spoke up. "The blacksmith is in need of a new apprentice. The last one was strong, but dumb; lasted only a month. I'll speak to him about Tiny."

"I'd like to request special training for Tristan under the Heart department," clucked Agatha with a beaming smile.

"I was going to ask the same for the Hand!" sulked Remy.

"As was I with the Head. Hmm, another quandry. How shall we solve this?" Cece looked at the two with puzzlement.

Remy beamed with sudden inspiration. "She's exceptional. We all agree. So why not make an exception for her? Let's all teach her. In due course, she will choose her own specialty, but in the meantime, let's see what's she's made of." Shouts of "Yes!" and applause were her answer.

*******

Bending a leg to place her ankle on her other knee, Tristan relaxed under the shade of the tree. Ever since Tiny woke up ten days ago, life has been bliss. If someone had told her that this had been in store for her, she would've fought harder during the competition. Thinking for a moment about the fate of the other survivors, she wondered whether Arite was among them. She shuddered off the thought. Now wasn't a time for unpleasantries; now was a time to thank the gods that they both survived.

At first, Tristan didn't talk much. She had quickly surmised that for each question she asked, it somehow signified that questions were asked of her. However, her natural curiosity got the better of her since she also quickly realized that few of the trio's actions weren't deliberate.

Questions like "Why are you changing Tiny's bandages when the blood's stopped?" resulted in questions like "How did you get to the slave camps?" No one in her young life had ever taken an interest quite like theirs and she found their queries a bit discomforting. But her instinct to learn overtook her reservation and soon she answered theirs eagerly knowing this exchange of information benefitted her.

She had told them all she could remember. She had memories of voices, of smells, fleeting images. One night, before Tiny had awoken, she had told them her first full coherent memory - the one of fire, of screams, of cries, of fear and desperation, of heartbreak. She still would wake from dreams of being scared, running away from fire, of being wrenched away from someone she needed and loved. "Your mother?" they asked. But she couldn't say for sure. They left it alone until a few nights later.

They asked what she remembered after the fire. Tristan just shrugged and said, "I just remember the slave camp after that." That of course led to what her life was like in the camps. Not about the conditions, for they already knew, but rather what she observed, what she thought of all that, her reactions. When they asked why did she choose Tiny to protect, she just said, "He made me laugh."

Tiny plopped down beside her disturbing her reverie. "How soon before we get to the school do you think?" Tristan had to laugh. "You ask me that every time we make a stop. And my answer's the same. How am I supposed to know?" She ruffled Tiny's hair.

"I think it's soon now. We've been on the road a while. Look, I'm almost healed up! And you... well, if you ever sat still, maybe your wounds wouldn't open up again." Tiny pointed to an expanding red spot on her trouser leg.

"Umm excuse me, Sir Smart-mouth. What am I doing right now?" Tristan harumphed.

Tiny pointed an accusatory finger at her. "Practicing what you've learned from Remy in your mind!"

Tristan blushed hard. She was just about to refute Tiny when she realized she had been clenching this muscle and that. "G'wan! Get away from me 'fore I tickle you senseless." She ran after him laughing.

Seeing Cece beckon both of them, they ran over. "Did you two remember to fill up your water sacs?" Both children patted the full sacs they each carried around their belt. "Okay, it should only be a half day's ride from here."

"See!" Tiny whopped Tristan on the arm. "I told you we were close!"

Ironic, isn't it?

2004-11-08T14:47:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Ironic, isn't it, that I'm comfortable writing this story for the public, but I can't seem to invite my sister to see my progress. I probably should be writing this over at Distorted Dreams but I'm choosing to share this here. My sister and for that matter my family has always disapproved of how I live my life.

Everytime I try to type out an email to my sister telling her about what I'm doing for the month of November, I hear her voice telling me that I have better uses for this time, that wouldn't it be better served if I got a part time job and tried to pay her back, that I'm an irresponsible hack with no chance of being published anyway so why am I bothering. Okay okay, my sister's a whole lot nicer than that and would never say such a thing, but essentially, that's what "Better things to do," "Waste of time," and "Why are you doing this?" means.

Maybe tomorrow, I'll let her know what I'm doing.

Chapter 5 - with notes

2004-11-07T17:15:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Okay, this may be another chapter of fits and starts cause I'm not sure about this part of the story at all. I've got the parts after the school when Tristan and Kat are adults, but not here. But I want to get this in. Or, there's a possibility I may skip ahead to the adult years. But there's so much that changes during the telling of a story, and I like setups. If I skip ahead, I may not use all the set ups I have here. Anyway, here goes nothing.

The trio jumped in a tad too early for my tastes. I would much prefer that you had suffered a tich more. Ah, but some good may yet come out of this. Since you're coherent, perhaps you'd be willing to share about your past giving me the tools I'll need to defeat the prophecy. See, the more I pay attention to you child, the more convinced I am that you cannot be the instrument of my downfall. Therefore, you must be the catalyst. And there are ways to neutralyze catalysts.

[Author's Notes] The queen surprises me each time I do her voice. I have no idea what she's going to say when I sit down to write.

*****

What have I gotten myself into? Tristan stared at the strong one's back, then looked behind where the tall one and the plump one were conversing. She had felt guilty about giggling earlier, but the relief it provided offset the guilt. For the first time in a long time, since before she got to the slave camp, Tristan felt safe. She had seen with her own eyes the ease with which the strong one had stopped the head slaver. Tiny's face had changed from one in pain to one of peace. All thanks to the plump one's efforts. And the tall one. She had managed to give everyone what they wanted. Who were these three? And why did they choose her?

The strong one led the way out of the encampment. At the entrance, Tristan paused to look back. So that's what the outside of it looks like. It doesn't seem as scary out here. She spat on the ground then threw an apologetic look towards the approaching two. Neither of them acknowledged her or her actions. She hurried past them to get near Tiny again.

By the time the strong one stopped, Tristan could barely walk. Her side ached badly, she was dizzy from loss of blood, the pain in her thigh throbbed and her head pounded with every footstep. She had half expected the plump one to offer help but her own stubbornness prevented her from asking for it. Senseless stubborn She smiled at the half-remembered retort. Where did that phrase come from?

The strong one set Tiny down on some furs and the plump one hurried over to check on Tiny. The tall one went to the fire in the middle of their campground and lit it, then beckoned Tristan over. As Tristan approached, the warmth of the fire enveloped her so quickly that she shivered violently, as if to shed the cold that she hadn't noticed. She plopped down on the spot where the tall one had indicated she should but as she did, the dizziness overtook her and she half-blacked out.

Looking over at Tiny, she saw that he was resting fairly comfortably and that the plump one was coming towards her. The gentle smile on her face relaxed Tristan enough that she didn't flinch when the plump one sat down next to her. "Trust us enough that you'll let me take a look at those wounds yet?" Tristan gulped. Were her actions so apparent? "Tristan. Tiny is resting and he should wake up in a day or two. If I don't clean your wounds, you're not going to be awake when he wakes up. In fact, there's a good chance you won't be alive. But, understand this. We are not going to force help on you. Help is here if you want. Your choice."

[Author's Notes] Woohoo!!! Passed the 7,000 word mark!

Tristan managed to nod a yes before letting the pain totally wash out her consciousness.

The first thing she was aware of was how sore she was. She tried lifting her head; no, her neck hurt too much. She could hear voices nearby, not hushed per se but more like mindful. That's strange. Why did she hurt so badly? What caused - "TINY!" She didn't care about how hurt she was anymore. Jumping up, she looked around to see where Tiny was. She was greeted with frowned "shhhh's" and fingers pointed in one direction. Following their indication, she could see Tiny still among the furs, and the sigh of relief was audible.

Her knees gave out and she collapsed back on the spot where she had lain for how long? The strong one walked over with a bowl in her hands, "Drink this, it'll help bring some strength back in those legs." Tristan took the bowl without taking her eyes off the strong one and only when the strong one and rejoined the others on the other side of the fire did she look at the other two. All three of them were looking at her with undisguised amusement. Why amusement?

After the first two sips of the hot soup, the warmth and satiation was so immediate that she gulped the rest down. Laughs of approval told her the three were still observing her. After finishing the last drops, she took in her surroundings. One large tent apparently housed the three women with another smaller tent nearby. Four horses, tethered to a large tree were close to a wagon. Everything seemed clean and tidy but worn. No cages, nothing that should really alarm her but that whip hanging off that strong one's belt.

"Feel better?" The plump one's voice carried over the fire; an obvious smile could be heard as well. Tristan nodded. "Want more? There's more than enough to go around. Once Agatha gets going, she's likely to feed an army." This came from the strong one. What's the catch? As if sensing her hesitation, the tall one added, "Won't cost anything. Well, maybe a smile."

Getting up gingerly, Tristan tested out her strength. The soup had done wonders. It had cleared up most of her dizziness and gave her the strength to stand, albeit a bit wobbly. She looked around the ground and saw a stick, just about her size, apparently whittled down from a stout branch nearby. She glanced up at the big tree where the horses were and sure enough, a wound on the trunk showed her where the stick came from. She picked up the stick gratefully and used it as a crutch to hobble over to where the other three sat waiting for her.

The three sat in a half circle and all three turned as one towards her. Of all sights, it was that which unnerved Tristan the most, this act of synchronicity. Tristan noticed a small heap of furs nearby and a nod from the strong one told her, that's where she was supposed to sit.. Too sore and tired to put up any resistance, Tristan flopped down on the furs immediately grateful for the softness and comfort. She leaned forward with her bowl in her hand. "I'd like some more please." and again, nods of approval came from all three. She couldn't help herself, she was pleased.

Instead of gulping, she took her time this time and tasted how good the soup was. Her enjoyment grew with each sip and a smile erupted on her face. "There you go, Cece! Ask and you shall receive." The plump one thumped Cece on the back resulting in a cough. "And thank you, Tristan for the compliment you just paid my cooking. I'm Agatha. S'not fair that we should have your name and you don't have ours, eh?" Agatha winked at her.

[Author's Notes] The scenes are coming so fast now that I'm not stopping to make sure of sentence varieties, repetition or anything. Hope to catch those on the 2nd draft.

Tristan glanced over at the stout one. "Remy" was her reply. Tristan repeated to herself, Cece, Agatha and Remy before nodding. She kept up her slow enjoyment of the soup. Cece leaned forward asking, "So, Tristan. Know why you're here?" Tristan shook her head slowly.

"Hmm, know anything about the Three H Foundation?" Remy looked at her with an aloof curiositiy. Again, Tristan shook her head.

Agatha said to the two adults "Maybe we should ask something more basic." "Like?" the other two queried. Turning to Tristan, Agatha asked, "Do you know what the competiton was about?" Tristan shrugged, still staring at the three fairly intently.

The silence that followed was punctuated by the sounds of Tristan's slurping. Tristan finished her soup, wiped her mouth with the hem of the sleeve that was still wrapped around her, and said tentatively, "I know only four was supposed to live." "Anything else?"

Tristan's shoulders slumped. "Some said the four were taken away to use as food for royal families. Guess that made sense cause usually only the strongest wins." She looked at them with a tilt of her head. "You gonna eat me?" Roars of laughter told her the answer was no. She smiled a little now, hearted by the laughs. "Some said the four got to go to schools. I think that's hogsnot. Why would schools want to get beat up slaves?" This time, the responses were wry amusement which only made her look at them more intently. "Some say the four will get gladiator training. I think that's the likeliest. Otherwise, why would the tests be running and fighting?" Again, wry amusement greeted her.

"Do I get to ask questions?" Tristan crossed her arms as she asked. "Of course" and all three heads nodded in unison. "Are you the Three H Foundation?"

Cece straightened her back and said proudly, "I'm the Head of it." Remy piped up and said, "I'm the Hand" and Agatha said with a smile, "That leaves me with the Heart and may I say, Welcome." and again, all three heads nodded. Cece added, "But, again, as before, it is your choice. You are no longer a slave now, Tristan. That means should you find our teachings to be insufficient, you can always depart."

"What about Tiny?" Tristan glanced over to see Tiny stir a little, then settle back into a restful slumber.

Remy took the place of answerer this time. "He's free too. But I've a feeling where you go, he'll go." Remy's eyes twinkled in the firelight.

Tristan looked directly at Remy. "You going to teach me how to fight like you?" Remy's response delighted her. "As soon as you heal up." Tristan then looked at Agatha and asked, "You going to teach me how to heal people?" Agatha smiled and said, "Among other things, but yes." Tristan then stared at Cece intently before saying anything.

"And what will I teach you, Tristan?" Cece's smile held no judgement but rather, exuded warmth. Tristan thought about what she saw. It was obvious what the other two did, but Cece? She looked back into Cece's eyes and asked hesitantly, "To figure out what people want so you can get what you want?" The resulting laughter came from Remy and Agatha only; Cece looked amused but peeved at the other two. "Got you pegged, Cece!" Remy was almost crying she was laughing so hard. Cece said, "Ignore those two. Yes, I'll teach you the art of persuation - " "Persuasion she calls it!" and howls followed. " - as well as ways to observe, to sift your thoughts and deduce, in other words, to think. Do these things sound amenable to you?"

Despite her initial reluctance, Tristan now nodded with enthusiasm. Agatha got up and took Tristan by the hand. "First off, let's dress those wounds and put you in cleaner clothes, shall we?" The two disappeared into the smaller tent.

Chapter 5

2004-11-07T16:16:00.000-08:00

The trio jumped in a tad too early for my tastes. I would much prefer that you had suffered a tich more. Ah, but some good may yet come out of this. Since you're coherent, perhaps you'd be willing to share about your past giving me the tools I'll need to defeat the prophecy. See, the more I pay attention to you child, the more convinced I am that you cannot be the instrument of my downfall. Therefore, you must be the catalyst. And there are ways to neutralyze catalysts.

*****

What have I gotten myself into? Tristan stared at the strong one's back, then looked behind where the tall one and the plump one were conversing. She had felt guilty about giggling earlier, but the relief it provided offset the guilt. For the first time in a long time, since before she got to the slave camp, Tristan felt safe. She had seen with her own eyes the ease with which the strong one had stopped the head slaver. Tiny's face had changed from one in pain to one of peace. All thanks to the plump one's efforts. And the tall one. She had managed to give everyone what they wanted. Who were these three? And why did they choose her?

The strong one led the way out of the encampment. At the entrance, Tristan paused to look back. So that's what the outside of it looks like. It doesn't seem as scary out here. She spat on the ground then threw an apologetic look towards the approaching two. Neither of them acknowledged her or her actions. She hurried past them to get near Tiny again.

By the time the strong one stopped, Tristan could barely walk. Her side ached badly, she was dizzy from loss of blood, the pain in her thigh throbbed and her head pounded with every footstep. She had half expected the plump one to offer help but her own stubbornness prevented her from asking for it. Senseless stubborn She smiled at the half-remembered retort. Where did that phrase come from?

The strong one set Tiny down on some furs and the plump one hurried over to check on Tiny. The tall one went to the fire in the middle of their campground and lit it, then beckoned Tristan over. As Tristan approached, the warmth of the fire enveloped her so quickly that she shivered violently, as if to shed the cold that she hadn't noticed. She plopped down on the spot where the tall one had indicated she should but as she did, the dizziness overtook her and she half-blacked out.

Looking over at Tiny, she saw that he was resting fairly comfortably and that the plump one was coming towards her. The gentle smile on her face relaxed Tristan enough that she didn't flinch when the plump one sat down next to her. "Trust us enough that you'll let me take a look at those wounds yet?" Tristan gulped. Were her actions so apparent? "Tristan. Tiny is resting and he should wake up in a day or two. If I don't clean your wounds, you're not going to be awake when he wakes up. In fact, there's a good chance you won't be alive. But, understand this. We are not going to force help on you. Help is here if you want. Your choice."

Tristan managed to nod a yes before letting the pain totally wash out her consciousness.

The first thing she was aware of was how sore she was. She tried lifting her head; no, her neck hurt too much. She could hear voices nearby, not hushed per se but more like mindful. That's strange. Why did she hurt so badly? What caused - "TINY!" She didn't care about how hurt she was anymore. Jumping up, she looked around to see where Tiny was. She was greeted with frowned "shhhh's" and fingers pointed in one direction. Following their indication, she could see Tiny still among the furs, and the sigh of relief was audible.

Her knees gave out and she collapsed back on the spot where she had lain for how long? The strong one walked over with a bowl in her hands, "Drink this, it'll help bring some strength back in those legs." Tristan took the bowl without taking her eyes off the strong one and only when the strong one and rejoined the others on the other side of the fire did she look at the other two. All three of them were looking at her with undisguised amusement. Why amusement?

After the first two sips of the hot soup, the warmth and satiation was so immediate that she gulped the rest down. Laughs of approval told her the three were still observing her. After finishing the last drops, she took in her surroundings. One large tent apparently housed the three women with another smaller tent nearby. Four horses, tethered to a large tree were close to a wagon. Everything seemed clean and tidy but worn. No cages, nothing that should really alarm her but that whip hanging off that strong one's belt.

"Feel better?" The plump one's voice carried over the fire; an obvious smile could be heard as well. Tristan nodded. "Want more? There's more than enough to go around. Once Agatha gets going, she's likely to feed an army." This came from the strong one. What's the catch? As if sensing her hesitation, the tall one added, "Won't cost anything. Well, maybe a smile."

Getting up gingerly, Tristan tested out her strength. The soup had done wonders. It had cleared up most of her dizziness and gave her the strength to stand, albeit a bit wobbly. She looked around the ground and saw a stick, just about her size, apparently whittled down from a stout branch nearby. She glanced up at the big tree where the horses were and sure enough, a wound on the trunk showed her where the stick came from. Without forgetting her bowl, she picked up the stick gratefully and used it as a crutch to hobble over to where the other three sat waiting for her.

The three sat in a half circle and all three turned as one towards her. Of all sights, it was that which unnerved Tristan the most, this act of synchronicity. Tristan noticed a small heap of furs nearby and a nod from the strong one told her, that's where she was supposed to sit.. Too sore and tired to put up any resistance, Tristan flopped down on the furs immediately grateful for the softness and comfort. She leaned forward with her bowl in her hand. "I'd like some more please." and again, nods of approval came from all three. She couldn't help herself, she was pleased.

Instead of gulping, she took her time this time and tasted how good the soup was. Her enjoyment grew with each sip and a smile erupted on her face. "There you go, Cece! Ask and you shall receive." The plump one thumped Cece on the back resulting in a cough. "And thank you, Tristan for the compliment you just paid my cooking. I'm Agatha. S'not fair that we should have your name and you don't have ours, eh?" Agatha winked at her.

Tristan glanced over at the stout one. "Remy" was her reply. Tristan repeated to herself, Cece, Agatha and Remy before nodding. She kept up her slow enjoyment of the soup. Cece leaned forward asking, "So, Tristan. Know why you're here?" Tristan shook her head slowly.

"Hmm, know anything about the Three H Foundation?" Remy looked at her with an aloof curiositiy. Again, Tristan shook her head.

Agatha said to the two adults "Maybe we should ask something more basic." "Like?" the other two queried. Turning to Tristan, Agatha asked, "Do you know what the competiton was about?" Tristan shrugged, still staring at the three fairly intently.

The silence that followed was punctuated by the sounds of Tristan's slurping. Tristan finished her soup, wiped her mouth with the hem of the sleeve that was still wrapped around her, and said tentatively, "I know only four was supposed to live." "Anything else?"

Tristan's shoulders slumped. "Some said the four were taken away to use as food for royal families. Guess that made sense cause usually only the strongest wins." She looked at them with a tilt of her head. "You gonna eat me?" Roars of laughter told her the answer was no. She smiled a little now, hearted by the laughs. "Some said the four got to go to schools. I think that's hogsnot. Why would schools want to get beat up slaves?" This time, the responses were wry amusement which only made her look at them more intently. "Some say the four will get gladiator training. I think that's the likeliest. Otherwise, why would the tests be running and fighting?" Again, wry amusement greeted her.

"Do I get to ask questions?" Tristan crossed her arms as she asked. "Of course" and all three heads nodded in unison. "Are you the Three H Foundation?"

Cece straightened her back and said proudly, "I'm the Head of it." Remy piped up and said, "I'm the Hand" and Agatha said with a smile, "That leaves me with the Heart and may I say, Welcome." and again, all three heads nodded. Cece added, "But, again, as before, it is your choice. You are no longer a slave now, Tristan. That means should you find our teachings to be insufficient, you can always depart."

"What about Tiny?" Tristan glanced over to see Tiny stir a little, then settle back into a restful slumber.

Remy took the place of answerer this time. "He's free too. But I've a feeling where you go, he'll go." Remy's eyes twinkled in the firelight.

Tristan looked directly at Remy. "You going to teach me how to fight like you?" Remy's response delighted her. "As soon as you heal up." Tristan then looked at Agatha and asked, "You going to teach me how to heal people?" Agatha smiled and said, "Among other things, but yes." Tristan then stared at Cece intently before saying anything.

"And what will I teach you, Tristan?" Cece's smile held no judgement but rather, exuded warmth. Tristan thought about what she saw. It was obvious what the other two did, but Cece? She looked back into Cece's eyes and asked hesitantly, "To figure out what people want so you can get what you want?" The resulting laughter came from Remy and Agatha only; Cece looked amused but peeved at the other two. "Got you pegged, Cece!" Remy was almost crying she was laughing so hard. Cece said, "Ignore those two. Yes, I'll teach you the art of persuation - " "Persuasion she calls it!" and howls followed. " - as well as ways to observe, to sift your thoughts and deduce, in other words, to think. Do these things sound amenable to you?"

Despite her initial reluctance, Tristan now nodded with enthusiasm. Agatha got up and took Tristan by the hand. "First off, let's dress those wounds and put you in cleaner clothes, shall we?" The two disappeared into the smaller tent.

Chapter 4 - with notes

2004-11-06T18:32:00.000-08:00

Terrified? Anxious? Excellent. Now you have an inkling of what life has been like under this prophecy. I see the trio are frightened for you. I believe I shall enjoy watching them writhe with worry. I shan't make a move... yet. But this situation may yet need a royal touch, shall we say?

*******

"I can't watch!" Agatha's clucking took on a hysterical tone. Her arms flew wildly about.

Without taking her eyes off the girl, Cece poked Remy in the ribs while whispering, "Do something."

Remy glanced over at Agatha and saw that she had leaned her wooden chair back onto two legs. With a quick sweep of her leg, Remy tilted the chair back onto one leg amidst cries of "OH! OH! OH!" from Agatha, kicked and swung the chair around until it faced away from the field. Then with her foot, she caught the seat of the chair before it fell too far back, and set the chair back down on four feet. "There, Agatha, don't watch."

"Remy, she's in real trouble down there. Damnit, that blow got in!" Cece wrung her hands in frustration. "What are the rules again? Can we stop this carnage?"

"Forget the rules!" Agatha, though heavy for her size, lept over the dais landing on three townsfolk. "Thank you boys." and she got up, brushing herself off. Striding purposefully between the crowds, she got to the fence seperating the field from the throng and turned back with a challengeful look. "Coming girls?"

[Author's Notes] Damnit, I hate it when characters run off with the plot. Oh well, I have no choice but to follow. WOOHOOO!!!! passed the 5000 words mark. only 7500 to go to be at where I'm supposed to be, midnight Sunday. But Ut oh. Just lost about three paragraphs when IE froze up on me. Yeah I know, I shouldn't be creating as I'm going but it's helping me and I don't want to stop.

Above on the dais, the other two shrugged and hopped down into the crowds. Amidst angry shouts from both the slavers and crowd, they shouldered their way to the front when three slavers barred their prorgress.

"A hand, Cece?" Remy was looking past the barrier of slavers.

Cece held out her hand, "Sure, Remy." Remy slipped the end of her always nearby whip into Cece's open palm. Grabbing it, Cece said, "How about two?" and she clasped both hands together in front of her to form a bridge.

Springing onto the clasped hands, Remy used it to propel herself over the heads of the astonished slavers. With a big jerk on the handle of the whip, she yelled out to the slavers, "Behind you!" All three whipped around to see Cece leaping at their heads, and all three ducked. Cece sailed over them with ease following the whip.

"Works every time!" Remy shouted as they sprinted after the huffing Agatha. "Amazing, the human psyche." agreed Cece.

Astonished kids stood still on the field. Slavers screeched at them to stop. Townsfolk murmured in the stands. Agatha reached the far corner, where the girl was still fending off two attackers while laying across what looked like an unconscious child. Apparently, none of the three noticed the intrusion.

"Halt!" Agatha spoke in a clear voice that carried throughout the field and into the stands. The two attackers stopped in mid-blow, then turned around looking at her with bewilderment. She merely asked them to stand aside.

The girl had her back to the unconscious boy on the ground. She leaned back on him and was apparently using her feet to fend off the attackers as well as an almost broken through board. Agatha did a quick assessment. Bleeding from the head, side, thigh and shoulder. Perhaps a broken bone or three from the way she was wincing. Behind her, she could hear the other two catching up with the head slaver not far behind.

"What In Srygo's name do you three think you're doing? You know how much copper I'll lose?" The head slaver was poking at Remy's chest hard, spraying spit all over her face. Without a word, Remy grabbed his hand, bent the finger back and twisted his arm arournd until he was kneeling on the ground.

Agatha knelt down, gently saying to the hurt and scared girl, "It's over now. We're taking you with us." She expected thanks, tears, bewilderment, but not this. The girl was shaking her head vehemently. "No. Tiny goes."

Cece's voice floated over Agatha's head, "Is that Tiny behind you?" and the girl nodded. "The rules say that a school can only take one. You understand that, right?" and the girl nodded, though her shoulders slumped.

Remy whispered in Cece's ear. "You know we all want the girl. She's perfect for us. She uses her head, she's got heart, and she's a fighter." A firm nod told Remy Cece agreed.

Cece leaned over to the yowling man. "Sir, what would make it worth your while for us to take both?" and she beamed a reconciliary smile. A nod of her head and Remy released the man. Cece threw an arm around the shorter man and walked off with him discussing terms.

"There," Agatha said softly to the girl, holding her hand out for the board that was still held firmly in front. "I need to see to your friend. Make sure he's nod badly hurt. I'm a healer." Agatha was relieved to see the girl hand her board over to Remy and move aside just enough to allow Agatha a better view.

Remy beckoned the girl over. "C'mere and let's take a look at what kind of trouble we've gotten ourselves into." A wry smile apparently comforted the child enough that she did come forth. "Bet that hurt." Remy pointed to the wound on the girl's side, aware that any movement towards the girl might send her off. The girl nodded, then glanced behind her to see what Agatha was doing.

Agatha was hunched over the boy, tenderly lifting up his head to see what was causing the blowflood. A large gash near the back plus a lump was oozing. She tore at her sleeve with her teeth and then pulled apart the tear to use as a bandange around the boy's head.

"And she wonders why she doesn't have nice clothes," smirked Remy. She got up to look around some of the fallen, quickly determining all of the rest were dead. Coming upon the boy with the board sticking out of his temple, she grimaced at the memory of the stricken look on the child's face when it happened. She looked back; the girl's gaze had followed her movements and she saw whom Remy was standing over. Partially wondering if she should go comfort the child, Remy turned and walked over to see the two attackers.

Cece finished her negotiations and strode back to the corner. Looking about, she saw Remy talking with two remaining slaves. Agatha was lifting the boy into her arms and the girl? Where was the girl? She finally spotted the girl hunched over a corpse. As she approached, she saw the girl take off her sackcloth covering and lay it on top of the corpse. Cece nodded in approval.

Agatha panted under the weight of the boy but she kept a firm grip. She had the absolute confidence that Cece had managed to somehow procure both children. Clucking, she went over the girl and knelt down beside the child. "He's going to be fine. Just a bad cut and bump on the head. He'll sleep for a while. Okay, this is what I want you to do. See that thread from my sleeve? Tug on it gently. Don't tug the wrong one or I'll be showing these people much more than they paid for." A giggle followed and relief drenched Agatha. Good, the child wasn't in shock - yet. "Okay, now pull off my sleeve and wrap it around yourself. We don't need runny noses on this trip."

[Author's Notes] 6,000 word mark! Woohoo!!!

After Remy left the attackers, she headed right for Agatha and took the boy from her, knowing that Agatha wouldn't last with the burden. She glanced over at Cece's approached and asked, "Well?"

Cece thought her grin would suffice but Remy jabbed her with an elbow.

"Remy's right. Details. What did you give them?" A cluck followed.

"Oh, just a couple of things. We bought the boy. Woodruff is his name but everyone calls him Tiny. We awarded the scholarship to this bleeding child. Her moniker is Tristan." Cece ignored their smirks at the term "moniker". "Plus, we promised never to grace their grusome presence again..." She paused.

"AND?" The other two squawked together and Agatha's arms flailed about, causing Remy to regret taking the boy from her hands.

"And, happy birthday, dear Agatha. I know it's a couple weeks early, but I couldn't resist." Suitably satisfied by the confusion on both their faces, she continued. "I told him in reparations for any financial burdens he may have received from our intrusion, I told him we'd heal any slaves he sent our way, for the next two years."

"Eeeee! Thank you!" Agatha flung herself at Cece ruffling Cece's carefully coifed hair. Remy nodded at Tristan and the two walked off the field amidst cries of "How did you know that's what I wanted?"

As Agatha and Cece followed, she turned back to the remaining children, scanned to make sure the ones remaining weren't ones she'd cry over, then gestured to them, saying "Go on. Continue." and she stalked off.

Chapter 4

2004-11-06T16:47:00.000-08:00

Terrified? Anxious? Excellent. Now you have an inkling of what life has been like under this prophecy. I see the trio are frightened for you. I believe I shall enjoy watching them writhe with worry. I shan't make a move... yet. But this situation may yet need a royal touch, shall we say?

*******

"I can't watch!" Agatha's clucking took on a hysterical tone. Her arms flew wildly about.

Without taking her eyes off the girl, Cece poked Remy in the ribs while whispering, "Do something."

Remy glanced over at Agatha and saw that she had leaned her wooden chair back onto two legs. With a quick sweep of her leg, Remy tilted the chair back onto one leg amidst cries of "OH! OH! OH!" from Agatha, kicked and swung the chair around until it faced away from the field. Then with her foot, she caught the seat of the chair before it fell too far back, and set the chair back down on four feet. "There, Agatha, don't watch."

"Remy, she's in real trouble down there. Damnit, that blow got in!" Cece wrung her hands in frustration. "What are the rules again? Can we stop this carnage?"

"Forget the rules!" Agatha, though heavy for her size, lept over the dais landing on three townsfolk. "Thank you boys." and she got up, brushing herself off. Striding purposefully between the crowds, she got to the fence seperating the field from the throng and turned back with a challengeful look. "Coming girls?"

Above on the dais, the other two shrugged and hopped down into the crowds. Amidst angry shouts from both the slavers and crowd, they shouldered their way to the front when three slavers barred their prorgress.

"A hand, Cece?" Remy was looking past the barrier of slavers.

Cece held out her hand, "Sure, Remy." Remy slipped the end of her always nearby whip into Cece's open palm. Grabbing it, Cece said, "How about two?" and she clasped both hands together in front of her to form a bridge.

Springing onto the clasped hands, Remy used it to propel herself over the heads of the astonished slavers. With a big jerk on the handle of the whip, she yelled out to the slavers, "Behind you!" All three whipped around to see Cece leaping at their heads, and all three ducked. Cece sailed over them with ease following the whip.

"Works every time!" Remy shouted as they sprinted after the huffing Agatha. "Amazing, the human psyche." agreed Cece.

Astonished kids stood still on the field. Slavers screeched at them to stop. Townsfolk murmured in the stands. Agatha reached the far corner, where the girl was still fending off two attackers while laying across what looked like an unconscious child. Apparently, none of the three noticed the intrusion.

"Halt!" Agatha spoke in a clear voice that carried throughout the field and into the stands. The two attackers stopped in mid-blow, then turned around looking at her with bewilderment. She merely asked them to stand aside.

The girl had her back to the unconscious boy on the ground. She leaned back on him and was apparently using her feet to fend off the attackers as well as an almost broken through board. Agatha did a quick assessment. Bleeding from the head, side, thigh and shoulder. Perhaps a broken bone or three from the way she was wincing. Behind her, she could hear the other two catching up with the head slaver not far behind.

"What In Srygo's name do you three think you're doing? You know how much copper I'll lose?" The head slaver was poking at Remy's chest hard, spraying spit all over her face. Without a word, Remy grabbed his hand, bent the finger back and twisted his arm arournd until he was kneeling on the ground.

Agatha knelt down, gently saying to the hurt and scared girl, "It's over now. We're taking you with us." She expected thanks, tears, bewilderment, but not this. The girl was shaking her head vehemently. "No. Tiny goes."

Cece's voice floated over Agatha's head, "Is that Tiny behind you?" and the girl nodded. "The rules say that a school can only take one. You understand that, right?" and the girl nodded, though her shoulders slumped.

Remy whispered in Cece's ear. "You know we all want the girl. She's perfect for us. She uses her head, she's got heart, and she's a fighter." A firm nod told Remy Cece agreed.

Cece leaned over to the yowling man. "Sir, what would make it worth your while for us to take both?" and she beamed a reconciliary smile. A nod of her head and Remy released the man. Cece threw an arm around the shorter man and walked off with him discussing terms.

"There," Agatha said softly to the girl, holding her hand out for the board that was still held firmly in front. "I need to see to your friend. Make sure he's nod badly hurt. I'm a healer." Agatha was relieved to see the girl hand her board over to Remy and move aside just enough to allow Agatha a better view.

Remy beckoned the girl over. "C'mere and let's take a look at what kind of trouble we've gotten ourselves into." A wry smile apparently comforted the child enough that she did come forth. "Bet that hurt." Remy pointed to the wound on the girl's side, aware that any movement towards the girl might send her off. The girl nodded, then glanced behind her to see what Agatha was doing.

Agatha was hunched over the boy, tenderly lifting up his head to see what was causing the blowflood. A large gash near the back plus a lump was oozing. She tore at her sleeve with her teeth and then pulled apart the tear to use as a bandange around the boy's head.

"And she wonders why she doesn't have nice clothes," smirked Remy. She got up to look around some of the fallen, quickly determining all of the rest were dead. Coming upon the boy with the board sticking out of his temple, she grimaced at the memory of the stricken look on the child's face when it happened. She looked back; the girl's gaze had followed her movements and she saw whom Remy was standing over. Partially wondering if she should go comfort the child, Remy turned and walked over to see the two attackers.

Cece finished her negotiations and strode back to the corner. Looking about, she saw Remy talking with two remaining slaves. Agatha was lifting the boy into her arms and the girl? Where was the girl? She finally spotted the girl hunched over a corpse. As she approached, she saw the girl take off her sackcloth covering and lay it on top of the corpse. Cece nodded in approval.

Agatha panted under the weight of the boy but she kept a firm grip. She had the absolute confidence that Cece had managed to somehow procure both children. Clucking, she went over the girl and knelt down beside the child. "He's going to be fine. Just a bad cut and bump on the head. He'll sleep for a while. Okay, this is what I want you to do. See that thread from my sleeve? Tug on it gently. Don't tug the wrong one or I'll be showing these people much more than they paid for." A giggle followed and relief drenched Agatha. Good, the child wasn't in shock - yet. "Okay, now pull off my sleeve and wrap it around yourself. We don't need runny noses on this trip."

After Remy left the attackers, she headed right for Agatha and took the boy from her, knowing that Agatha wouldn't last with the burden. She glanced over at Cece's approached and asked, "Well?"

Cece thought her grin would suffice but Remy jabbed her with an elbow.

"Remy's right. Details. What did you give them?" A cluck followed.

"Oh, just a couple of things. We bought the boy. Woodruff is his name but everyone calls him Tiny. We awarded the scholarship to this bleeding child. Her moniker is Tristan." Cece ignored their smirks at the term "moniker". "Plus, we promised never to grace their grusome presence again..." She paused.

"AND?" The other two squawked together and Agatha's arms flailed about, causing Remy to regret taking the boy from her hands.

"And, happy birthday, dear Agatha. I know it's a couple weeks early, but I couldn't resist." Suitably satisfied by the confusion on both their faces, she continued. "I told him in reparations for any financial burdens he may have received from our intrusion, I told him we'd heal any slaves he sent our way, for the next two years."

"Eeeee! Thank you!" Agatha flung herself at Cece ruffling Cece's carefully coifed hair. Remy nodded at Tristan and the two walked off the field amidst cries of "How did you know that's what I wanted?"

As Agatha and Cece followed, she turned back to the remaining children, scanned to make sure the ones remaining weren't ones she'd cry over, then gestured to them, saying "Go on. Continue." and she stalked off.

More Author's Notes

2004-11-06T13:53:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Yes, I know, you hate cliffhangers. But I love them, so oh well. Okay, you may notice that the Chapter 3 is posted prior to Part D. That's cause I thought it would make things easier for people who might be checking in daily. Know that Part D was finished and the entirely was published just a few minutes afterwards.

Kat's story is in limbo right now, so bear with me. I know there's not enough to show you what kind of character she really is but I can't wait to write her. But in her adult years. As I said earlier, I don't have much of Kat's background yet.

Hope you're enjoying this as much as I am. I really have to give thanks to my other here. She's out in the hallway painting right now, and she'll be putting in the flooring we had purchased. If it's not for her enthusiasm towards this, I probably would've given up already.

Chapter 3 - Part D

2004-11-06T13:43:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Again, I'm repeating that one paragraph so you can follow.

Tiny! Gotta protect Ti - Another blow hit her on her right shoulder. She thrust her arms out in front of her with a hand on each end to block the blows. "ARRRRRGGGHHHH!!!!!" With no concept that she was yelling, she ran forward with all her might pushing through her legs into the ground and pushed back a couple of slaves into another one. Dashing back to where Tiny was, she swung blindly, and hit Arite square in the nose. Blood squirted and he staggered back. Then, pain exploded in her thigh.

She looked down and her stomach churned in reaction. Nails sticking through a board were imbedded in her thigh! She sensed someone coming at her and she stabbed at the ground with her board. Somehow, her board landed square on an incoming foot and a scream ensued, then someone stumbled back.

"TINY! GET IT OUT!" Her lungs hurt with the effort she put into screaming but next she felt a tug at the board hanging off her thigh, then a wrench. She screamed, then swung with her board, catching someone trying to get at Tiny. Warm liquid was dripping down her leg and it tickled. Looking up, she saw Arite lunging for Tiny, but she was too far away. She flung the board hard and hoped it found its mark.

Hearing a scream of "GET HER!" she ducked but while one attacker missed her, another plowed right into her side. Tumbling over banging into the side of a wall, her breath whooshed out of her. Tiny saw that she was in trouble and chucked the board he was holding over to her, yelling for her to catch it.

She stuck out her hand and caught the board, then swung with all her might. Her jaw fell when she looked to see what happened. It was Burk, a cell-mate. One she had considered friendly. And he looked at her funny, with unseeing eyes. Time seemed to slow then. His mouth was agape, and spittle was flying out as he tried to gasp out a word. Slowly sinking to his knees, he reached out to her and then fell over.

A screeched pierced her paralysis. Arite had gotten to Tiny! Hunching over, she hurled herself at the slaves now surrounding the alarmed boy. A slash ripped her side open but still she scrambled over tumbled kids. Launching herself at Arite, she clawed until she clambered onto his back. Baring her teeth, she took a chunk out of his neck and hopped off as he whirled away in pain. Twisting on her ankle, she stumbled. And took a blow squarely on her back.

Author's Notes

2004-11-06T12:41:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Okay, if you've visited this site before, you'll notice a few changes. I added completed chapters, some permanent thoughts, and some links to the sidebar.

There's also a drawing of me there. The picture was done by P. Craig Russell, one of the world's best comic book artists and appeared in a Dark Horse comic called, Elric: Stormbringer (I'm pretty sure this is the one the pictures of me appeared in). Hmm I just looked at the link. Didn't know that Neil Gaiman had a hand in it. LOL Anyway to finish with the credits, Michael Moorcock wrote Elric in prose form and Craig adapted it. One day, if I'm in the mood for it, I'll explain how I came to be within those pages and some other comics as well.

As you can see, Chapter 3 has been kind of hard for me. It's been fits and starts, partially cause of real life, partially cause of my own stupidity. I need to picture myself within the scene the night before I write. That way, it's more like reporting. Chapter 3 has been excruciating for me cause I haven't done the shall-we-say meditation the night before. My bad.

With perseverance, I hope to get on a huge roll. Last night, I was on one, but due to technical difficulties and the cold, I had to stop. Yes, for those of you who read between the lines, that means that I actually create as I'm posting. What you're seeing is fresh spew, folks. Nice imagery, eh? *smirks*

Anyway, back to the tough stuff. The words that actually matter. or not. *laughs at her ownself*

Chapter 3

2004-11-06T11:43:00.000-08:00

Blows and fists won't deflate you, but the sight of losers being taken away will? Hmm, useful knowledge indeed. You are the offspring of that weak-willed, jittery changeling, aren't you? If I let you survive this, you will have to go to one of the four schools but which one? Which one will prove least dangerous for me? The Military Arts Specialiaty School, The Watcher Institute for Learned Youth or the Church and University of Life Texts or what's this? It seems the trio from the Three H Foundation has taken a fancy to you. I wonder, will this be taken out of my hands? Oh but I can already see the advantages: with them, you will learn all disciplines, but specialize in none. And that means, you'll be able to fathom exactly how you're failing in your destiny. Ah, child. You are bringing me far too much enjoyment.

*******

They were given a respite of a few hours; after all, the townspeople's appetite for carnage had to be whetted. Screams from dying kids filled the small cell the twenty-four survivors were crammed into. Gagging from the stench of the puke and excrement along the edges, Tristan tried to calm herself. Her left fingers automatically curled up to stroke the gem embedded within her palm. With each stroke, her breathing eased and her gag reflexes stopped its threats.

Tiny flopped down beside her, grinning. "Lookit!" He spread open his hands to show her two pieces of bread. She threw him a grin of gratitude as she snatched them up. "Dit - Hhh!" She gasped as bits of crumbs flew out of her mouth.

Stifling his laugh, Tiny indicated that she should finish eating before attempting another word. "Wait here!" he whispered into her ear. Bounding off, he returned a few seconds later with something behind his back. Grinning even wider now, he produced with as much flourish as he could in that cell, a small leather sac swaying about in his grip.

Realizing what it was, she quickly plucked the sac out of his hand and drank deeply. "Thanks, Tiny." She quickly swiped at her mouth to brush off crumbs and regretted it instantly. Now her face was filthier and her action made the odor that much closer. "How -"

He jabbed a finger at the cell door. A slaver was handing out food to everyone. "Think they want us strong out there."

She agreed with a nod. "Did you get some?" A grin told her he got his fill, not just some. She hugged him and went over plans with him before noticing Arite in the corner. Arite was jabbing his thumb at them while jabbering away at half a dozen kids. Narrowing her eyes at him, she knew with drenching clarity that while she had a plan, so did Arite and his plan bode Tiny harm.

A shifting in the atmosphere and the quieting down of the crowd indicated to her that the second part of the competiton was coming up. This was the one the crowds were waiting for, the one the executions had built up to. A shudder serpentined its way up her spine.

Fresh pungent smells filled the cell as one by one, the slaves realized what was imminent. Passionate prayers to various gods were whispered desperately. Tristan's own breathing quickened but as she subconsciously curled her left fingers to stroke the embedded stone, she felt a serenity descend from her head down through the rest of her body. Glancing about, she saw Arite with a small crowd of young toughs around, laughing and gesturing at her and Tiny.

A weapon! I need something if we're to see this through. She closed her eyes to focus on what she saw on the field. Something had tugged at her memory. Relaxing and focusing, she took a deep breath and pictured things strewn about the field. What were they? Clenching her eyes shut, she saw them. Boards! With nails sticking out of them.

She didn't have to wonder why they were there. All she knew now, was she had to have one. So, then the plan was to grab a board and then maneuver Tiny into a corner to protect him. Gods, what are we waiting for? Let's just get it over with!

As if on command, the cell door clanged open and a burly smelly slaver stepped through. Without a word, she started shoving children one by one out the cell. Ones who showed resistance received a heavy cuff across the back of the head. When the slaver approached, Tristan stood up quickly and yanked Tiny up by his collar, then shoved him out the door. She followed with a glance towards the slaver and was rewarded by a nod.

She followed Tiny and the single file to where the sunlight drenched the hallway. Overtaking Tiny so she could protect him from the front, she stepped out into bright blinding light. The roar of the crowds struck her with an almost physical force; she hadn't expected the noise to be a factor. Her left hand began the stroking of the stone but the clamoring had frightened her deeply.

Forget everything else. Just think about Tiny. Looking behind her, she saw that the noise had pretty much affected everyone the same way. Tiny was paralyzed and blocking the rest of the slaves from entering the field. Oh good, he was providing her with an excuse. She ran back to him, grabbed his hand and pulled him into the middle where the first entrants were gathered.

Pushing past them, she dragged Tiny to the edge of the circle closest to the corner with the least boards. That way, hopefully, less to deal with. The last of the slaves wouldn't come out, so a lumbering slaver jogged over, slugged the kid and threw the unconscious child into the middle and immediately a gong sounded.

Running off with Tiny in tow, she ducked under a blow, yanking Tiny's hand hard enough to bend him over and avoid the same blow. As she ducked, she snatched up a board, saw that it had nails with blood and hair on it, and threw it into the crowd. An angry roar followed. She had caught the crowd's attention without meaning to.

She managed to find a board without nails in it and getting to the corner, she threw Tiny into it then turned around to duck under someone leaping at her. Instinctively, she jabbed upwards with the board as the attacker sailed over her and then thrust with all her might while hanging onto the board. It worked. The attacker flew harmlessly away.

Someone struck her from her left side. She didn't try to swing with the board; there was no room. No room? Arite's sneering voice came from somewhere close. "That's him. In the corner."

Tiny! Gotta protect Ti - Another blow hit her on her right shoulder. She thrust her arms out in front of her with a hand on each end to block the blows. "ARRRRRGGGHHHH!!!!!" With no concept that she was yelling, she ran forward with all her might pushing through her legs into the ground and pushed back a couple of slaves into another one. Dashing back to where Tiny was, she swung blindly, and hit Arite square in the nose. Blood squirted and he staggered back. Then, pain exploded in her thigh.

She looked down and her stomach churned in reaction. Nails sticking through a board were imbedded in her thigh! She sensed someone coming at her and she stabbed at the ground with her board. Somehow, her board landed square on an incoming foot and a scream ensued, then someone stumbled back.

"TINY! GET IT OUT!" Her lungs hurt with the effort she put into screaming but next she felt a tug at the board hanging off her thigh, then a wrench. She screamed, then swung with her board, catching someone trying to get at Tiny. Warm liquid was dripping down her leg and it tickled. Looking up, she saw Arite lunging for Tiny, but she was too far away. She flung the board hard and hoped it found its mark.

Hearing a scream of "GET HER!" she ducked but while one attacker missed her, another plowed right into her side. Tumbling over banging into the side of a wall, her breath whooshed out of her. Tiny saw that she was in trouble and chucked the board he was holding over to her, yelling for her to catch it.

She stuck out her hand and caught the board, then swung with all her might. Her jaw fell when she looked to see what happened. It was Burk, a cell-mate. One she had considered friendly. And he looked at her funny, with unseeing eyes. Time seemed to slow then. His mouth was agape, and spittle was flying out as he tried to gasp out a word. Slowly sinking to his knees, he reached out to her and then fell over.

A screeched pierced her paralysis. Arite had gotten to Tiny! Hunching over, she hurled herself at the slaves now surrounding the alarmed boy. A slash ripped her side open but still she scrambled over tumbled kids. Launching herself at Arite, she clawed until she clambered onto his back. Baring her teeth, she took a chunk out of his neck and hopped off as he whirled away in pain. Twisting on her ankle, she stumbled. And took a blow squarely on her back.

Chapter 3 - Part C

2004-11-05T19:48:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Again, I'm repeating that one paragraph so you can follow.

She didn't have to wonder why they were there. All she knew now, was she had to have one. So, then the plan was to grab a board and then maneuver Tiny into a corner to protect him. Gods, what are we waiting for? Let's just get it over with!

As if on command, the cell door clanged open and a burly smelly slaver stepped through. Without a word, she started shoving children one by one out the cell. Ones who showed resistance received a heavy cuff across the back of the head. When the slaver approached, Tristan stood up quickly and yanked Tiny up by his collar, then shoved him out the door. She followed with a glance towards the slaver and was rewarded by a nod.

She followed Tiny and the single file to where the sunlight drenched the hallway. Overtaking Tiny so she could protect him from the front, she stepped out into bright blinding light. The roar of the crowds struck her with an almost physical force; she hadn't expected the noise to be a factor. Her left hand began the stroking of the stone but the clamoring had frightened her deeply.

Forget everything else. Just think about Tiny. Looking behind her, she saw that the noise had pretty much affected everyone the same way. Tiny was paralyzed and blocking the rest of the slaves from entering the field. Oh good, he was providing her with an excuse. She ran back to him, grabbed his hand and pulled him into the middle where the first entrants were gathered.

Pushing past them, she dragged Tiny to the edge of the circle closest to the corner with the least boards. That way, hopefully, less to deal with. The last of the slaves wouldn't come out, so a lumbering slaver jogged over, slugged the kid and threw the unconscious child into the middle and immediately a gong sounded.

[Author's Notes] I guess since I'm going past where I started the scene with the trio, I'll be rewriting that trio scene. Have I said how much I hate wasted efforts? Oh I think I'll be playing around with the side bar in order to get full chapters without revisions and without author's notes over the next day or two. It'll be a welcome distraction from all this writing I hope to do. I hope to get hit 12,000 words by Sunday afternoon. .

Running off with Tiny in tow, she ducked under a blow, yanking Tiny's hand hard enough to bend him over and avoid the same blow. As she ducked, she snatched up a board, saw that it had nails with blood and hair on it, and threw it into the crowd. An angry roar followed. She had caught the crowd's attention without meaning to.

She managed to find a board without nails in it and getting to the corner, she threw Tiny into it then turned around to duck under someone leaping at her. Instinctively, she jabbed upwards with the board as the attacker sailed over her and then thrust with all her might while hanging onto the board. It worked. The attacker flew harmlessly away.

Someone struck her from her left side. She didn't try to swing with the board; there was no room. No room? Arite's sneering voice came from somewhere close. "That's him. In the corner."

Tiny! Gotta protect Ti - Another blow hit her on her right shoulder. She thrust her arms out in front of her with a hand on each end to block the blows. "ARRRRRGGGHHHH!!!!!" With no concept that she was yelling, she ran forward with all her might pushing through her legs into the ground and pushed back a couple of slaves into another one. Dashing back to where Tiny was, she swung blindly, and hit Arite square in the nose. Blood squirted and he staggered back. Then, pain exploded in her thigh.

Chapter 1

2004-11-05T17:54:00.000-08:00

Oh yessss, child. Is it time to test you already? Oh my, how time flies when you’ve a kingdom to rule. I had thought you wouldn’t be ready for this trial until you were 8 or 9 but I see, diluted elf-blood is miraculous serum indeed. Far be it for me to stop your - *smirk* - destiny. Hmm, let’s see now, how shall we proceed? Ahhhhh yesssss, your insipid little familiar. He’s quite accepting of his own fate, isn’t he? Rather like a trapped insect in a web, isn’t it? I wonder exactly when you’ll realize that the weakest is always the first to go. And, I wonder, how far you would go for friendship….

* * * * * * *

The acrid smell wafted up her nostrils to wake her up with a jolt. Scrunching her nose, Tristan looked around for the source. The search didn’t take long; someone, very likely Arite, had pee’ed a few feet from her.

Before her eyes adjusted to the slants of light streaming into the cell from the barred windows, Tiny had sidled up next to her with a small squeeze around the waist. “Hi!” he whispered.

Smiling, she gave him a little squeeze back and noted to herself that he was still dropping weight. Not good, he needs food. Hesitating a tad before she asked whether anything was going on, she sensed a strange stirring among the slaves and the slavers.

“Yeah!” he whispered back excitedly. “The schools are back. They’re getting the lists ready right now.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders drooped slightly as the news hit her. She glanced at Tiny hesitantly, then stared intently at the dance of the dust within the slants of light.

“I wonder if your name is on this year, Tristan.” Tiny was rocking back and forth with what could almost be described as glee.

Though she knew she was being led, her curiosity got the better of her. “Don’t you wonder if your name is… oh.” Her shoulders dropped further. Why was it that Tiny could perceive things better than she could at times? Of course, Tiny was on the list. One way or another, the slavers would be rid of what was definitely considered as a liability.

“Maybe I’m on this year. Last year, they said you were too small and I was too young. I think they’ll be happy to get rid of me too.” Her sigh was barely audible.

Letting her hand fall to the ground next to where they were sitting, she idly drew pictures in the dirt. Her other hand stroked the stone that was imbedded in the palm. “Tiny. If I am on the list, you gotta promise me.” She turned with sudden ferocity at him. “Promise me, Tiny! Stay behind me.”

He smiled gently at her, “What do you think I was counting on?” before breaking into a huge grin.

She punched him in the arm.

As the morning dragged on, she looked around the cell, wondering if she would miss living with slavers. After all, she knew little else and things could be worse outside those bars. Here, she had food, what little she could fight for and share with Tiny; and shelter, if one could call a moldy patch of old filthy hay that.

Her fingers stroked her palm where the triangular stone was imbedded. Why was it she’s never seen anyone else with stones imbedded in their bodies? How did she get this one? Every time she tried to remember, a fiery headache would ignite and fade away as her attempts evaporated. And how did she become a slave? Other slave kids all had sob stories, but she couldn’t remember hers.

She remembered little before her life here. Memories of soft arms, loving arms would occasionally wake her with a smile. Other memories would materialize, usually when she was rubbing the stone: memories of a song sung to her; of a tinkling laugh that tickled her ear; of a strange growly high-pitched voice that offered comfort yet seemed encumbered by melancholy; and of warmth - warmth that carried such… emotions! Crackly, fun, loving, needling, mutating, enveloping warmth.

She could never explain to Tiny that it was this warmth that carried her through the cold days and freezing nights, this warmth that repudiated her surroundings so she couldn’t suffocate. But Tiny never minded that he didn’t understand; all he seemed to care about was that Tristan was around for him to make laugh.

A crash at their cell door jabbed all the cellmates out of their reverie.

“Oy! You! You! You! ‘N You!” A finger stabbed at four kids, including Tiny and Tristan. “Oin’t youse the lucky bastiches. C’mon now! Don’ have all doi! Youse all…” his rumbling voice turned into an ugly falsetto, “are gonna put on a noiss show fer us all.” His resonant laugh faded into the distance even as the echo drifted back to them.

With a sinking heart, Tristan realized who one of the other chosen was. Arite! That bastich! The one who always went after Tiny’s portions - and got it half the time. Most of her black eyes came from him.

Passing him, she protected Tiny by being between them. A whispered taunt drifted through the darkness. “Only four schools. Only four winners.” Her blood chilled as his cackle followed.

Shuddering also because her bare shoulder brushed by some slimy moldy film on the tiled wall, Tristan kept whispering urgent messages into Tiny's ears, "Keep close during the quiz" "Stay in front of me when we're running" "Remember! Behind me during the fight!, but she knew the chances that Tiny actually heard her were remote.

A crack of a whip behind them hurried the four youngsters along the slimy hallway. The heavy iron-banded door in front of them slid creakily open at their approach, letting in such a downpour of sunlight that the four stood stupidly blinking, trying to adjust their sight.

Tristan and Tiny huddled together, making sure the others around wouldn't separate them. Then she realized someone was in the front, yelling out instructions. "... den youse runs and youse stops odders froms passing youse and dey stops youse. Foist half dat passes de finish line gets ta fight da next round. Odder half gets, " His finger drew quickly across his jugular with a wink behind it. "Oif youse gets whats I means." He quickly turned on his heels and walked into the middle of the arena.

Calling it an arena was like calling a pigsty a castle. The field was about 25 feet by 25 feet with hastily erected stands around the perimeter. Tiny gaped at the gathering crowds and whispered to Tristan "Wow, a lot of people came to see bloodshed." Tristan nodded with a slight gulp. It finally hit her that this was real, that she was really entered into the competition and that there was a good chance that Tiny and her weren't going to make it.

"They're starting off with the race this year?" In years past, she along with the others not entered into the Annual Scholarship Competition, would peek through cell windows to get a glimpse of the competition. She knew that the slavers chose the weakest and the most troublesome to compete. An old slave once explained to her that the weakest rarely lasted as a slave and well, it was easier to get rid of the troublesome during the competition than in slave sales.

She peered up at the crowd and noticed for the first time, that daises had been set up slightly above the crowds at the four ends of the field. Those must be the four schools that are choosing who gets the scholarships. Strange, three of the daises had one high chair, but the third had three - were there three deans of that school? She shrugged realizing that with only four winners, she probably wouldn't be able to find out.

The sun was bright today, she noted. She might be able to use the sunlight to her advantage. She glanced around the field. Not much to hide behind but if she could maneuver Tiny into a corner, she only had to fend off what were in front of them. She hastily whispered a small plan in his ear, then grabbed his face to lock eyes, making sure he understood both the instructions and the importance of them. He nodded, then pried her hands loose. A quick hug for reassurance, but his posture told her that he was expecting death.

Not today! her mind screamed and she clenched her jaw determinedly.

Chapter 3 - Part b

2004-11-04T19:03:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] No, you're not seeing double. I decided to insert more into this scene so I am reposting the last paragraph. That way, you won't get lost. I'll be putting in the trio later and possibly rewriting that whole thing since I hated it anyway.

A shifting in the atmosphere and the quieting down of the crowd indicated to her that the second part of the competiton was coming up. This was the one the crowds were waiting for, the one the executions had built up to. A shudder serpentined its way up her spine.

Fresh pungent smells filled the cell as one by one, the slaves realized what was imminent. Passionate prayers to various gods were whispered desperately. Tristan's own breathing quickened but as she subconsciously curled her left fingers to stroke the embedded stone, she felt a serenity descend from her head down through the rest of her body. Glancing about, she saw Arite with a small crowd of young toughs around, laughing and gesturing at her and Tiny.

A weapon! I need something if we're to see this through. She closed her eyes to focus on what she saw on the field. Something had tugged at her memory. Relaxing and focusing, she took a deep breath and pictured things strewn about the field. What were they? Clenching her eyes shut, she saw them. Boards! With nails sticking out of them.

[Author's Notes] Damnit! I had written this part earlier and lost it. Serves me right for not saving. And I wrote it better. Let's hope I can capture this better on the next go-round.

She didn't have to wonder why they were there. All she knew now, was she had to have one. So, then the plan was to grab a board and then maneuver Tiny into a corner to protect him. Gods, what are we waiting for? Let's just get it over with!

[Author's Notes] My sentiments exactly. God, this is awful writing. I am not there. I need to be there to write this and I am not there. Shit. I'll have a lot more time tomorrow. *sighs*

Kat's Story - Part One

2004-11-03T20:16:00.000-08:00

"KAT!" The scream in her ear should've produced a start, but Kat just idly looked over at her younger brother. Though she saw his mouth open and lips move, she was still off in the wilds, seeking adventure. Reluctantly, she matched sounds with movement and aha! Her brother was finally making sense.

"...waiting for you! You have to hurry!"

"Alexandros, stop jumping about." With a grace that fitted her nickname, she stood up from under the shade and followed her brother. For each step and a half he took, her long legs took in one stride. It was this difference plus her serenity that made a chasm of the year gap between them. "Where are they?" She meant her cousins, who were preparing for the Inception Ceremony.

[Author's Notes] Damnit, it's getting too cold in my office to write. And my heater's on the fritz. Time to go buy a heater this weekend. Hopefully, tomorrow I can get an earlier start and not get stuck on naming shit like I had to tonight. (the names of the schools took me over half an hour to come up with.) Also, next comes the choreography of the fight scene. I don't have blinds in my office plus I tend to act out the fight scenes in order to describe it. I always get the feeling people around my neighborhood refer to me as the crazy lady on the corner. Enjoy!

Chapter 3 - Part a

2004-11-03T19:31:00.000-08:00

Dagnamit!

2004-11-03T18:37:00.000-08:00

Shit! I forgot I was going to put Kat's background in between parts of Tristan's. Oh well, maybe it's better this way. I have Tristan way more fleshed out than Kat. I will add Kat in later.

A little change

2004-11-03T18:09:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Right now, I have two competitions in mind, a footrace and a fight. I referred to three competitions in chapter one, but that's keeping in with the three theme I have going. I'm going to mull over this for a while and probably in the 2nd draft of this story, I'll be adding a chapter between chapter 1 and 2 for that one. But for now, I'm too tired to think of something original for the third competitions. Any suggestions for a "brain teaser" type competition is welcome. Thanks!

Chapter 2

2004-11-02T21:02:00.000-08:00

Nervous, little one? You should be. You see, I haven't quite decided yet if I should let you live or die. Your death would sever the prophecy right there and then. But, there is some sort of sweet justice to letting you live. After all, how long have I had to endure the threat of this prophecy? How many times have I woken up with a silent scream in my throat because I had no idea when or how you would arrive? This torturous, dawdling imminence will be eviscerated, but by my terms, my conditions and my hand. I think I will enjoy prolonging my decision.

* * * * * * *
"I can't believe we agreed to this," muttered Agatha almost to herself. She clucked disapprovingly as the parade of slaves started. "Look, Cece, those poor things are half-starved. No, make that mostly starved." She clucked again while nudging the tallest woman among the three.

"It makes sense economically for the slavers to do that." Cece held up a hand as Agatha emitted a louder cluck. "But! I will say that it is only short term thinking." She threw a look that tried to silence Remy.

Remy swallowed the chortle and pointed at a few very fit looking toughs on the field. "Those look strong. Wonder why?"

"Gods, if you two would stop to think before letting words forth, you might fathom more things. This event is a survival event plus the survivals get shipped elsewhere. If you were slavers, who would you choose as the participants?" Cece harumphed.

"Oh!" the other two exclaimed in unison. Then with a nudge towards Agatha, Remy grinned at Cece, "Y'know, we're so used to having you explain stuff to us we figure, why bother using brains." Both rocked with laughter at the obvious disgust on Cece's face.

"And remember Agatha, we agreed to this because we figured if we could save even one of these poor children, it's worth the trip," said Cece. Her eyes sought the field for possible candidates. Most of the children she saw could barely stand up, they were so frightened. She scanned the field before resting her sight on a pair that was jostling for position. "Look at those two. They seem determined... no, make that the bigger one seems determined. Look at how she's pulling the smaller child with her"

"She looks strong," approved Remy.

"You're right about her determination, Cece." nodded Agatha.

"Smart too. She's switching hands to use her friend like a whiplash in her wake. From here, it almost looks as if she's swimming through the crowds." A small smile lit up Cece's face.

"The race should be starting." As if Remy had decreed it, a signal came from the southwest corner of the field and an arrow shot from a crossbow sounded a large gong. "Damn! Those two didn't get to the front!"

"Hmm." Cece's eyesbrows came together into a straight line. "I don't think she wanted to be -"

"What's she doing?" Agatha craned to get a better look, almost falling out of the dais. "She's shoving her friend in front of her? Why?"

"He's slower! Oh! Watch out!" Remy winced as a blow struck the girl from behind staggering her. "She's quick, she dodged the second one."

Cece played with her braid before asking, "Perhaps we should pay attention to others as well?"

Two simultaneous shrugs greeted her followed by a loud sigh from Agatha. "I really do wish we could save more than just one. I wish we could save them all!" Her arms flapped to make the emphasis and both Cece and Remy automatically dodged.

"Look, she's actually tugging her friend to make them slow down. I get it! She's making sure they're where the fighting is least fierce. Good strategy, I'm curious to see what she'll do in the fight." Remy's curt nod was followed by a grin.

* * * * * * *

She didn't know what was the worst: the dust choking and blinding her; the tears from the dust blinding her further; the fear that she'd lose her footing; the coughing that threatened to slow their momentum; or the fear that one of these blows would break her grasp on Tiny's shirt. There! She could feel the blow coming from her right and she easily side-stepped it. Realizing she stopped paying attention, she returned her focus on her skin. Don't think about anything else. Just concentrate on where the air feels different.

Some time ago, a fistfight with Arite taught her that she could feel the air whooshing at her right before a fist hits. It wasn't helpful most of the time since she had to focus hard to feel the movement of the air. However, she was finding out that focus sharpens when the stakes were high enough..

"Trist.. an! I... can't... run... " Tiny tried to crane his head back to tell her this but received a sharp jab in the back for his efforts. "OW!"

She didn't bother to answer. If Tiny tried it again, another jab would suffice. The slaver had said the first half who crossed the finish line would get to the second half of the competition. All she had to do was keep Tiny and herself between the middle and the top finishers. Less fists to dodge.

She spotted Arite near the front loping at a leisurely pace. Is the end close? She was regretting giving Tiny the larger portion of the gruel they received. She felt Tiny drop to his knees and she tugged at him impatiently, not comprehending what he was yelling. The words finally broke through the pounding through her veins.

"...op! Done! End!" He gasped each word out as he struggled to get his breath back.

Joy surged through her as she surveyed the field but then she spotted slavers herding the losers away. "Noooo!" The word burst out of her before she realized she was charging at the slavers. She felt a pressure at her ankle, then a tug, and she went sprawling into the dirt. As she struggled to get up, someone thudded on top of her. "Tristan! Stop! You can't help them. You..."

Words tumbled out in between the sobs. "I didn't realize... I mean... I did, but... I ..." Arms reached around her, helping her limp body into a semi-sitting position, then Tiny pulled her arms around him.

"Shhh, Tristan. You helped me. You helped one of us, okay? Shhhh." She let Tiny help her to her feet and drag her to where the other survivors were.

oooh gotta remember this

2004-11-02T13:50:00.000-08:00

[Author's notes] Just used a sentence I gotta remember: "His worst habit is he enjoys being annoying."

Chapter 1 Continued

2004-11-01T18:17:00.000-08:00

Shuddering also because her bare shoulder brushed by some slimy moldy film on the tiled wall, Tristan kept whispering urgent messages into Tiny's ears, "Keep close during the quiz" "Stay in front of me when we're running" "Remember! Behind me during the fight!, but she knew the chances that Tiny actually heard her were remote.

A crack of a whip behind them hurried the four youngsters along the slimy hallway. The heavy iron-banded door in front of them slid creakily open at their approach, letting in such a downpour of sunlight that the four stood stupidly blinking, trying to adjust their sight.

Tristan and Tiny huddled together, making sure the others around wouldn't separate them. Then she realized someone was in the front, yelling out instructions. "... den youse runs and youse stops odders froms passing youse and dey stops youse. Foist half dat passes de finish line gets ta fight da next round. Odder half gets, " His finger drew quickly across his jugular with a wink behind it. "Oif youse gets whats I means." He quickly turned on his heels and walked into the middle of the arena.

Calling it an arena was like calling a pigsty a castle. The field was about 25 feet by 25 feet with hastily erected stands around the perimeter. Tiny gaped at the gathering crowds and whispered to Tristan "Wow, a lot of people came to see bloodshed." Tristan nodded with a slight gulp. It finally hit her that this was real, that she was really entered into the competition and that there was a good chance that Tiny and her weren't going to make it.

"They're starting off with the race this year?" In years past, she along with the others not entered into the Annual Scholarship Competition, would peek through cell windows to get a glimpse of the competition. She knew that the slavers chose the weakest and the most troublesome to compete. An old slave once explained to her that the weakest rarely lasted as a slave and well, it was easier to get rid of the troublesome during the competition than in slave sales.

She peered up at the crowd and noticed for the first time, that daises had been set up slightly above the crowds at the four ends of the field. Those must be the four schools that are choosing who gets the scholarships. Strange, three of the daises had one high chair, but the third had three - were there three deans of that school? She shrugged realizing that with only four winners, she probably wouldn't be able to find out.

The sun was bright today, she noted. She might be able to use the sunlight to her advantage. She glanced around the field. Not much to hide behind but if she could maneuver Tiny into a corner, she only had to fend off what were in front of them. She hastily whispered a small plan in his ear, then grabbed his face to lock eyes, making sure he understood both the instructions and the importance of them. He nodded, then pried her hands loose. A quick hug for reassurance, but his posture told her that he was expecting death.

Not today! her mind screamed and she clenched her jaw determinedly.

Chapter 1 - part one

2004-11-01T13:54:00.000-08:00

* * * * * * *

Prelude - Pre-final take

2004-11-01T11:32:00.000-08:00

She could feel the tracks of sweat weaving down her chest to form a rivulet between her breasts, but since pain sliced through her uterus during her scream, she didn’t pause to wipe the sweat away. Don’t push now! screamed her brain, but her body fought off the thought successfully. Another accelerating stitch reverberating through her womb stopped the push. Damnit, Klystra, you call yourself a midwife? When your head says don’t push now, DON’T PUSH!

The thought somehow morphed itself into yet another scream and just as her voice gave out at the end, the front door slammed open letting the driving rain in. Through blurred vision, recognition was acknowledged. A gruff yet high-pitched voice rang out, “Where be the dry wood?”

She pointed with a curt nod of her head. Even with her eyes clenched tight against the pain, she could sense him/er rummaging around, building a fire and setting a kettle above the sprouting flames.

“You should’ve have shown up.”

“Ye be quiet, woman. Ye need me and I be here. That’s that.”

“Yea? And why are you a guy? Don’t you think I need a woman right now? She gasped out the accusatory query.

“Fine. That be what ye want? That be what ye get.”

Grimacing against the pain, Klystra opened one eye to watch the transformation. Though she had witnessed this countless times, it still fascinated her that Tak, only within her presence, could shift his/er form back and aforth. Tak’s form blurred around the edges and within seconds, a more female form took shape.

A more lyrical voice came out of Tak’s body now. “More t’ ye liking, Kly?”

“Yes, thank you. Did anyone see you leave the forest?”

A shake of the head relaxed Klystra enough for her to focus on breathing. “Tak, *huff huff* worried about y… *huff huff* ou. You know, *huff huff huff* I’ll have to leave soon *huff huff* after the baby is…”

“Hush Kly. Me fate’d been decided long ‘ere I met ye. Ye jes’ cons-trate on makin’ me chil’ come inna our realm easy, s’okay?”

Four years and she still hadn’t been able to convince Tak that his/er fate wasn’t sealed.Maybe once s/he sees the baby, s/he’ll change his/er min – the interrupted thought took secondary place to the immediacy of the child clamering to be out of her cave. With the storm outside drumming a soothing rhythm, a single wail punctuated the air full of groans and sweat and blood and breathing.

“Ye be right, Kly. S’a girl.” S/he held the baby near the fire so the flames could light up the babe’s face for Klystra to see. “And wise ol’ eyes she’s got.”

“Your eyes, Tak… your eyes.” Klystra held her arms out for the baby and as the baby smelled the nearby milk, she let out a yelp. “One thing’s for sure, the baby is demanding. Must take after me in that respect.” A nod of confirmation was all Klystra got as both she and the baby fell into exhausted sleep.

* * * * * * *

A couple of hours later, Klystra woke to her baby murmuring for more food. She pulled the baby next to her chest whispering, “Hmm, what would be a good name for you, my special one of three? How about Tristan?”

A grunt from the corner signaled approval. “You like that, Tak?” Another grunt greeted her. Klystra blinked a few times before looking into that corner. Among the shadows, she could make out a small, petite, boyish figure. “Don’t you want a closer look at your daughter, Tak?” A violent shake of the head confirmed her fears.

“Tak, my love. You can’t think…”

“’Nough! S’nough that I be here. If ye think me daughter’s gonna go t’rough da same’s me, ye’d better think twice!”

“Tak, you can leave with us.” She looked over at the corner hoping the flickering light would catch the tears in her eyes. Tak slowly slid out of the shadows and stood by her, clutching her hand.

“No, Kly. There be nowhere in this here realm where she couldn’t find me, nor mine. Won’t be long now… she knows where me be. And…” Tak’s gruff high-pitched voice broke, “She’ll be comin’ ‘fter –“ Tak jabbed his/er thumb in the air, pointing at the baby.

Suddenly, both of them froze. Their brows furrowed as they strained to hear beyond the staccato of the rain. Klystra got up quietly, wincing as she tried to stand.

“Kly. Lie back down.”

“No, Tak. They’re here. And I’ll have to leave now.”

A stifled gasp or sob stopped her from going too far. Klystra turned around and for the first time in over three years, she saw Tak return to the lost sad little elf she had first glimpsed at the edge of the forest, watching her weed her garden. As her hand reached out, Tak’s figure straightened and stiffened so her hand drew back to her side. With resignation, she quickly got her clothes and herbs together.

Tak walked her to the door, then handed her a bundle. “That there’s food. Elven food. Should last a week or so.” Standing on tiptoe, Tak peered into Klystra’s folded arms. “Tristan. This here’s fer ye. ‘Member me” Tak shoved a small object into the wraps enveloping Tristan and quickly turned away.

“Be off. Safe journeys. Don’ ferget t’ use th’ swilgum.”

Klystra paused before leaving. A violent urge shuddered through her as she fought it off, knowing that snatching Tak right now would just make it that much easier for her to find them. “Tak…”

“Me knows, Kly. Me knows.” A sigh followed. “Me too, s’okay?”

The acknowledgement was the sound of the door closing.

Prelude [Take 2]

2004-11-01T10:18:00.000-08:00

She could feel the tracks of sweat weaving down her chest to form a rivulet between her breasts but since pain sliced through her uterus during her scream, she didn't pause to wipe the sweat away. Don't push now! screamed her brain, but her body fought off the thought successfully. Another accelerating stitch reverberated through her womb stopped the push though. Damnit, Klystra, you call yourself a mid-wife? When the head says don't push now, DON'T PUSH!

The thought somehow morphed itself into a scream and just as her voice gave out at the end of the scream, the front door slammed open. Through blurred vision, recognition was acknowledged. A gruff but high-pitched voice rang out, "Where be the dry wood?"

She pointed with a curt nod of the head. Even with her eyes clenched tight against the pain, she could hear him/er rummaging around, building a fire and setting a kettle above the sprouting flames.

"You shouldn't have shown up."

"Ye be quiet, woman. Ye need me and I be here. That's that."

"Yea? And what will we do if - " The interrupted thought took secondary place to the immediacy of the child clammering to be out of her cave. With the storm outside drumming a soothing rhythm, a single wail punctuated the air full of groans and sweat and breathing.

"You were right, Kly, it's a girl." S/he held the baby near the fire so the flames could light up her face for Klystra to see. "And old wise eyes, she's got."

"She has your eyes, ..."

[author's notes] oh shit... I don't have a name for him/er... ACK! This is one of those things that usually hang me up for weeks! I need a name for this character. S/he is going to be a really sad figure... HELP! okay... don't have time to think of names now. Going to stop here and come back.

Prelude [Take 1]

2004-11-01T08:38:00.000-08:00

The curious thing about the little stone cabin at the edge of the woods wasn't how it managed to withstand some of the most turbulent storms, nor how it maintained an air of cleaniness amidst the enveloping mess of a forest, but rather how the short, curt rubble of a wall managed to seem to hold all that wilderness back. Some, in the village, declared that the house itself was blessed by a wandering friar many sunsets ago, and some maintained that the witch that resided inside the cabin was herself responsible for the many peculiarities that emanated from the cabin.

[author's notes] As beginnings go, this sucks. I want to establish tone, character, something, anything, within the first paragraph. Mission: NOT accomplished. Okay, so what do I need to do to improve on this? First off, voice. The voice is telling, and not showing, and I really need to find the right voice for this. What have I established so far? Nothing. Except some foretelling. *sighs* Okay, [imagines ripping a paper out of the typewriter and crumpling it up to toss (miss?) into the trashcan] Okay, one thing missing about writing on a computer... the immense satisfaction of doing the above. Imagination will just have to work.

She could feel the tracks of sweat weaving down her chest to form a rivulet between her breasts but since pain sliced through her uterus during her scream, she didn't pause to wipe the sweat away. Don't push now! screamed her brain, but her body fought off the thought successfully. Another accelerating stitch reverberated through her womb stopped the push though. Damnit, Klystra, you call yourself a mid-wife? When the head says don't push now, DON'T PUSH NOW!

[Author's notes] Okay, much better.... want to know what I love about writing? The constant surprises. I didn't mean for the first paragraph to tie in so quickly to the the title already, but here my subconscious is already working all the angles. And surprise, I have a name for the old bat. Klystra. Okay, Klystra, glad you could finally make it onto the page. Can't wait to see what you're about and I know... no matter how hard I try and plan you out, you're going to take on a life of your own aren't you? But don't forget, Klystra. You're to be the backstory... you're the prelude. It'll be your daughter who's going to take center stage. I'll leave you in the throes of birthing her now... But I'll be back to add more.

Excitement & Preparation

2004-10-31T18:37:00.000-08:00

[Author's Notes] Okay, I'm a tad weirded out by this. I am using my mac for the first time blogging and it's a tad different from using a PC. Wonder why.

Well, I think I have a map of the realm. A start at least. This will help out in making sure my directions in the novel will be accurate. I think I've also figured out what the other three realms are. Objective today. Write a prelude, and if possible, Chapter one.

Wish me luck.

Real Life

2004-10-28T15:09:00.000-07:00

Why November????? WhY?????????

There's Thanksgiving, two birthdays and a Holiday season to prepare for... and we're foolishly putting in a new floor. My girl says she'll put the floor in while I write (hmm we're beginning to sound like Melissa Etheridge's songs). (Everyone, get a lover who supports your writing and can't wait until your next chapter). But still, damnit, How the hell am I going to get this done? Especially with a pesky intermittent internet connection at work.

Okay okay, I'm breathing now... don't mind me, moment of panic there. I feel like I should have more prepared. Tomorrow, we pick up the planks to put the flooring in. Saturday, we're finishing up the painting in the hallway and letting the laminate "acclimate" to our cold cold house. Sunday is, of course, agonize over the Raiders day. And then midnight, the clock starts ticking... sheesh, my hands are getting sweaty just thinking about it.

Tonight? Well, if it follows the pattern of the past two nights, my girl will be playing San Andreas with me watching on and making comments, and I'll be playing the Sims, trying finish up all the objectives there before setting the controller do.....

EEEEEEK!!!! I just remembered! My girl told me Urbz was coming out TOMORROW!!!! Shit shit shit shit shit.... how to fit all this in before midnight Sunday? Oh and we're invited to a Halloween bash.

I need November to start. So I can just focus on the story and real life can take a back seat. Any time travellers out there?

It's the Economy, Stupid!

2004-10-27T09:30:00.000-07:00

[Author's notes] So, as I'm falling asleep last night, I try and figure out the next bit of the plot. (Part of my problem with blogging my thought processes here is wondering how much to tell you since I want the story itself to be a surprise for you all.) All of a sudden, it hit me that with the length I'm thinking of writing, I should really work out the economy and the governments a tad. Why you ask? Well, this is where I'm wondering what should I tell you.

Okay, for starters, there will be a slave economy. That's what kicked off my fretting about developing a believable, viable economy for this realm. After all, I'm making up a mythical realm here so have to start everything from scratch. Okay, so now you know. There's slaves in this story. How do they factor in then?

Do I make this a more feudal world? That means little merchant class. (One thing that bothers me about fantasy stories is how they don't really address these issues. They'll have slaves and a healthy merchant class, as well as feudal lords - if so, how does it all work?) If there's a healthy merchant class, then should there be slaves?

I have four schools representing four regions. One school is going to be The Three H Foundation. That will be... hmm. Four regions, one symbolizing balance. Perhaps the other three should represent the individual H's? One for Hand, one for Heart, and one for Head? Or is that too contrived?

Okay, let's run with this idea for now. If I have four regions, how does their economy drive each others? Where do slaves fit into this? (By the way, this is part of the reason Nobody [WriterBoy's and my comic book] worked well was this type of questioning, AND this is part of the reason WriterBoy won't write with me anymore. I'm way too anal about background.)

Okay. let's just settle on the four schools representing four regions. Let's develop the background for the four regions in another post.

Organizational Motivation

2004-10-26T15:23:00.000-07:00

[Author's notes:] Okay, so sometime last night, I decided to make the Queen of Fairies the overreaching nemesis in this story. SHE STILL NEEDS A NAME!!! So if you have a suggestion, make a comment! Thanks.

I also decided Chapter 2 is going to be solely devoted to Kat. Now that'll be an interesting development cause I've only recently started working on her background. So far, I really like her parents, and I really DON'T like Kat as a teenager. Can't wait to figure out how she transforms from a self-centered selfish know-it-all to probably the most centered and sane character in the story.

My lover suggested Tak for the hermaphrodite elf. I liked the symmetry and the juxtaposition between Kat and Tak. Think anyone would mind that or worse, find it confusing?

OH! Speaking of Tak, originally, the plans for him/er was to be a minor minor minor character. Basically, a gimme your sperm character. S/he is totally growing on me so watch for Tak to have a much larger role.

Dawna will be one of Tristan's classmates I think. She's going to be the randy one. Basically anyone with two legs will be fair game for Dawna. Her specialty is going to be Hand, whereas Tristan's is going to be Heart. The third person in this triad of potential has the specialty of Head of course. From what I've developed so far, this third person is going to be the catalyst for a lot of changes for people, though she herself is fairly immutable.

Plot you ask? Fairly epic, but just hold your horses. I'd rather talk about character development, voice, themes, anything but plot. The plot comes out of the rest of this, not vice versa in my opinion. Anyway, feel free to put your opinions in and I'll feel free to take it or ignore it. :)

How to hold back?

2004-10-25T15:34:00.000-07:00

The floodgates have been opened. I want to write... and I want to write now. Damn it, I should've looked up the rules more closely. I hadn't realized that writing is to start November 1st. *sighs*

Okay, I wonder if working on the backstory is kosher and not considered writing? Let's hope so. So far, for the prelude, I have:

Klystra - the witch at the edge of the forest.
Tak - the sad, hermaphrodite elf, whom life just seems to bat around.
The Queen Fairy - (gotta think of a name for her) - basically, the evil one in the story. Though I'm inclined to make her less malevolent. Too often, i think of the Queen Mother in Snow White whenever I think of this character... which is very unfortunate, cause I really don't want a caricature.

The main story will have the following characters:

Tristan - Borne of three, perhaps a destiny of uniting the three? She definitely has the heart. Oh shit, since I'm considering a mainstream market for this, maybe make this one a male? Y'know... I'm just going to write this as lesbian lore for now. Maybe change the names and genders later to protect the masses.
Kat - She be cool. She be hot. 'Nuff said? Oh yeah, think Elektra - assassin type, think dry humor, think cool cool cool.
Headmistress - need name. She's the head of the school Tristan trains in. Cool head on her shoulders, not prone to emotions nor action. Prefers to think things through.
Heartmistress - need name. She's the heart of the school Tristan trains in. She teaches things like the healing arts to her students, as well as exercises to train the heart. (Think heart like in Brett Favre, how everyone says he's got the biggest heart in the NFL).
Handmistress - need name. She's the hand of the school Tristan trains in. She is the one who teaches martial arts to the students. Hot headed... quick to action.

Can you tell what's missing from this list? Yup, no antagonists.

What then to do about Jesus of Nazareth.... oh sorry. Just singing to myself. What then to do? Yeah, there's going to be bad guys sprinkled along the way, but you know what it is? I write comic books. I co-wrote Nobody (available now from AIT publishing) and when you're writing comics, you don't have ONE overreaching nemesis normally. The author tends to think serially and I think I'm doing that here.

So far, I do have one nemesis... the daughter of the god of war... but how Xena is that?

I'll have to let things develop.

OH! And one more character...

Tiny - a huge hulking guy who was a runt as a youngster and Tristan basically protected him from all bullies. Now Tiny will do anything for her.

That's it for now I think. I'll be adding to this cast more and more. I'm a believer in epics (how the hell am I supposed to finish this in a month????)

whoops!

2004-10-25T15:22:00.000-07:00

FYI, the reason for this blog is the following: I signed up for the insane contest, NaMoWriMo.... in short: National Novel Writing Month is a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing. Participants begin writing November 1. The goal is to write a 175-page (50,000-word) novel by midnight, November 30.

So wish me luck!

Author's Note

2004-10-25T11:03:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'm scared. Scared that I'll write something awful, scared that my idea isn't going to jell together, scared that I'm picking the wrong story to write.

I'm busy fighting off the voice in my head that's saying "You're a fool, Sharon." So, instead, I'm going to just jump in with both feet into deep dark murky waters.

This idea has been in my head for about 5 years now. I'm pulling in characters I've created from elsewhere to infuse this book with energy, just cause those characters are so much fun to create and watch. Those characters are Tristan and Kat... yeah I know, fairly common fantasy names.

Okay, here's the rub.... I've always intended this book for a gay market (this idea was born during the days of Xena, what can I say? Derivative yes, but hopefully with a hint of brilliance somewhere). So far, all the characters in the book have been women/women warriors. SO! The question now begs to be asked, should I turn this novel around to suit a more... mainstream market shall we say? Let's see where I'll end up.

Okay... for the sake of clarity, my authors notes are going to be in this godawful color. I'll figure out what the color for the novel is later. Also, I've a feeling there are going to be tons more author notes than novel... at least at the beginning, until I've figured this thing out. Yes, even though the idea has been germinating in my mind for 5 years, I've absolutely no idea where the story will go. I've some characters, a sort of beginning, and I've got to figure out how to bring all these elements together.

Hope you all will enjoy!