November 17th 2012

I never really thought about it. It just didn't matter. After all, why did it concern me? I'd never bothered it; why should it bother me? The dark whispers on the street corners honestly made me laugh. I mean, these people were taking things WAYY to seriously! I knew it wasn't evil. It gave us nice things, like school, and money to buy stuff without having to work for it. That wasn't bad!
No, it was nice. It took care of us. All these theories were just the mattering of people who had lost their minds from age, or just wanted to chew on something.
It's over now. I know more. And I know that it's my fault, not because of what I did, but because of what I didn't do.
But before you scream at me for bringing this on you, you should know something about Americans as they used to be. We had everything. Nice homes, nice cars, good food; it all fell in our laps. Even low-income families had computers and iPods. We were invincible. Except from within.
Everything collapsed. And all because of greed. When politicians see a rich, happy people, they want some of their wealth. So they promise you food, housing, healthcare, an education, and eternal happiness if you'll just elect them and pay a few more taxes. So you peel off the greenbacks and drink the honey of their talk and sit back and enjoy yourself.
And like the old Energizer bunny, it kept going and going and going....And every time, they put the butter on a little thicker and took away a little more, keeping us distracted by throwing mud and worse at each other. It picked up in '09, and people started noticing things. I can remember them, the nutcase conservatives waving signs at the Tea Party rallies. But I didn't understand why anything was wrong, and besides, there was always a flap around election time.
But nothing quieted down. People were getting more and more worried. When my dad went to buy ammunition for hunting, almost a year after the election, he had trouble getting some; it was still flying off the shelves. "I wonder where it's all going?" he asked himself and me and we drove home. Were people stockpiling it? If so, why?
I tried to laugh it off, but my more conservative friends shook their heads dolefully. "Few forms of government have ever lasted much over 200 years. When they hit the two hundred year mark, there's always some kind of upheaval. The country may remain intact, but the system of government changes."
"But this is America," I protested. "So it is, and here lies a spirit of tenacity that, no matter how dormant it grows, is surpassed by few, if any other nations." Their eyes were glowing annoyingly. "And here, if we wake up, there is a chance to break the cycle, or at least have a peaceful transition."
I thought they were crazy. Life was good. Seriously! The politicians were working for our good, weren't they? Why couldn't anyone see that? 'Upheaval.' Pshaw!
I was wrong.
Alot of people were wrong. But things did start happening, and I saw that it wasn't all that I had thought it had been. It was bad, or at least, worse than I had ever dreamed. There was some violence. Shots were fired. People got killed. And we still don't know how it will end, because you're writing the story.
The future swings on what you do and what you don't do.
What's your choice?
--Amelia Turner
Amelia Turner is a character of my own imagination, but the things she speaks of aren't. Yes, this is random stuff that drifts from my head, but I hope that, for once, this is more than playful writing.

Well, I haven't been posting here, obviously, due to long involvement with a new story, 'The Soundtrack.' It's home is this facebook page:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Soundtrack/325473000547?ref=ts
I should be posting a part every day all through this November and into December, although the story should be finished by Nov. 30th. Read it and comment, if you like.
~Justyne

Translated From Sarconian Scout

Sorry that this is so long, but enjoy it. I daresay that this may be the last chapter of Sarco that I post here. It is possible that I'll put up two more, but...


Jasper, because of his Junior Scouthood, did not see his friend Lar as frequently as he had, but he finally managed to find a block of time when he wasn't doing either farm work or scouting. "You seem sad," he commented to his friend.
Lar sighed heavily. "I'll never make it to a Junior Scouthood."
"Nonsense!" cried Jasper. "Every time I've spoken with you, you've been doing fine with your studies. You'll get your JS soon, I'm certain."
"It's not skill level," said Lar, "It's me. None of the healers can place the problem, but it's there."
"What?" asked Jasper, confused.
"An issue that I've had my entire life," said Lar. "My parents thought that I might overcome it with the rigorous exercise that the Scouts require, and so it seemed for a time. But the condition came back."
"What is it?"
"Like I said, no one knows exactly what it is. We only know the symptoms: shortness of breath and lightheadedness when I'm engaged in rigorous exercise. People do experience such things, but mine is to the extreme - I pass out." Lar sighed deeply. "So I can't continue. I've lost a dream."
Jasper flung a friendly arm around Lar's shoulders. "You know what people say, 'Doors must close for windows to open.' I'm certain you'll find a place where you can apply yourself and be happy."
Lar did find a place. When next Jasper saw him, he was studying diplomacy and enjoying it. He had become lighter and more talkative than he had been during Scout School. But he still rode off into the mountains from time to time. One day in late summer, however, Lar did not return from his gallivanting off into the hills. The Scout who was sent on his trail said that, from all appearances, he had been captured by the Aranara.

Malfic Vespertine gazed stormily down the long wooden table, looking towards the huge wooden door. Everything was going wrong. It had all been going wrong since almost three years before.
He had learned from his scouts that a high-ranking Sarconian family, Alex and Jennifer Breaker, along with their children, Jack and Melissa Breaker, were going on a trip with their parents. He’d had his men start a rock slide in hopes of killing the family. He had been angry when he found out that, although their parents were killed, thirteen-year-old Jack and Melissa had escaped the rock slide, but he enjoyed the report of the doings nonetheless. After all, brokenhearted weeping was just as good as a death scream and more fun to listen to, considering that it lasted longer. He had ordered that the account be written in his favorite book of murders.
He had also been happy when he learned that Melissa had gone into a deep depression and disappeared into the north. But then that dreadful Gilthoniel Dragontongue had gone and given Melissa hope. Malfic had long since decided that Gilthoniel would pay for that in blood and pain. A year later Melissa and two other Scouts had sneaked into Malfic’s office and stolen all his battle plans.
He had called in his eldest son. "The Scouts have stolen our battle plans, Maleficence, " he had said. "Take a strong detachment out after them."
So they had chased the three Scouts and killed two, but Melissa was good at hiding her trail and always stayed a step ahead of them. An escort had awaited her at the border, led by her brother, Jack. Maleficence had caught up with the escort and engaged them in fierce combat, but, once again, Melissa escaped. And not only did she escape capture; she returned to the scene of the combat with reinforcements after giving the battle plans to the Sarconian council.
Only one man of the entire detachment returned to him, bringing him news of his son’s death. "I saw it happen," the man gasped, nearly dead with blood loss and exhaustion. "Jack Breaker ran him through."
Cold rage had crept into Malfic’s mind. He would kill the Breaker twins as slowly and painfully as he could contrive. I know Melissa has a good scream. he thought. All girls do. And I'll hear it nice and loud when I- Then he paused. He had caught a glimpse of Melissa when she was sneaking around his palace and knew that she was, in fact, very beautiful. With her spirit broken she would make a perfect addition to his servants. His eyes gleamed with cruel delight.
"We only have to capture one of them," he said.
"Sir?" one of the members of his small staff looked carefully at him. "One of whom, and how?"
"One of the Breaker twins, rockbrain!" The staff huddled together in a small group, fearing that Malfic would decide to kill one of them. Malfic spent a moment enjoying the looks of terror on their faces, then continued. "If we capture one, the other will come after him or her." < br> "Family loyalty," chuckled one of the staff members as they slowly relaxed. "They would be better off without it."
"Indeed," smiled Malfic. "Wait until they are on a mission alone. Then grab the closest one. I want them both alive. Smack the boy around as much as you wish, so long as he isn’t dead and is capable of standing up to torture, but leave the girl alone. I want her unhurt and untouched. I will enjoy breaking her. That pleasure is mine."
Malfic smiled to himself. After he captured the twins he would keep Jack alive long enough to see his sister’s spirit broken. Then he would kill him. Something to look forward to, he thought. And, if I can break Melissa’s spirit, I can take her as my wife. But then...why take her as my wife? My other son, Tarian, also has Old Sarconian blood. If he takes her to wife, a fairly strong Sarconian strain will come to the Aranaran royal family and we will have more claim to the throne than ever. "Bring my son, Tarian, to me," he said to the staff.
While Malfic waited for Tarian, he considered Jack's fate. I could kill him. It would break Melissa perfectly. But then...she might be opposed to marriage...I can threaten to kill Jack to make her marry Tarian, then kill him anyway, cementing her submission. But why kill him? I could use Melissa's love for him against her, threaten to do things to him if she didn't cooperate. Eventually his spirit would be broken to pieces and he would either die or swear allegiance to me. If he swore allegiance to me, I would have gained a powerful and cunning warrior. If he dies, well, I'm rid of a great annoyance. Either way, I win.
Tarian got to the council chamber a few minutes later. He looked very nervous. Nervous indeed, Malfic thought, considering that I executed his mother, Delice, not long ago. Malfic felt a slight pang of regret. He had killed Delice himself while in a rage, and was surprised that he missed her annoyingly high spirit. Delice came to love me more than any of my other women, but she could never find it in herself to keep her eyes on the floor and never speak a word unless I spoke to her. Her spirit wasn't tender...but her love was... Malfic shook his head slightly. Tarian has his mother's spirit, and that was a good thing. Melissa will be the perfect wife for him. "Tarian, it is high time you married. Come here, sit down," he kicked out a chair near him, "and tell me which of the women has caught your eye."
Tarian seated himself slowly next to Malfic. "None of the women have caught my eye, Father," he said quietly.
"Hmm. I didn't think so. But, as I said, it is time you married; I have given thought to a wife for you, and I have found one."
Tarian's eyebrows lifted. "Whom, Father?"
"Melissa Breaker," Malfic said in a satisfied tone.
"The northern Scout?" Tarian looked puzzled.
"Yes. Have you not seen her?"
Tarian shook his head, nervously gripping the arms of his chair.
"She is the most beautiful creature I have ever set eyes on. Her spirit is high now, but when she is broken she will be perfect for you."
Tarian took a deep breath. "Father, I have seen women with broken spirits. They just mope, cringing whenever anyone speaks to them. Others just waste away and die. If you captured Melissa for me, I would prefer it if you just gave her to me."
"You would take her as she was, high spirit and all?"
"Yes, then deal with her as I would a wild colt."
Malfic lifted an eyebrow. "Meaning..."
"I would teach her to love and trust me, not through harsh words and blows, but with gentleness. I would tame her spirit, not break it."
"Hmm. You see the world strangely, Tarian. Still, I am not opposed to your request. Very well, when she is taken, she is yours as soon as she arrives." Malfic gave his son a thin smile.
"Thank you, Father. I did not think you would give thought to my future, considering my position." Tarian's eyes were on the floor.
Malfic leaned back in his chair. "You are my heir, Tarian."
Tarian looked up in surprise. "But I am not the eldest! Torina's son-"
"Yes, he is the eldest now. But Tarian," Malfic leaned forward, "healers have no place on the throne. Besides, you are the eldest of mine from Delice."
"I thought my mother was out of favor," Tarian said cautiously.
"Tarian, there are few women like your mother. She was different!" Malfic's voice rose to an angry shout, then softened. "She was...different."
Tarian was amazed at the sudden change in his father's voice. He spoke almost tenderly. "You loved her," he blurted before he could stop himself.
"I did. And she loved me. She was from the north, and wanted to turn me into a Northerner." Malfic drummed his fingers on the table. "So she slipped into my heart and tried to change me with love. She didn't change me though, and no one ever will. See that no one changes you, Tarian." Malfic dismissed Tarian with a motion of his hand.
Tarian left the council chamber and made his way to the roof of the palace and leaned on the cold railing. When he had told his father that none of the women had caught his eye, he had meant none of the eligible women. One woman had caught his eye: a pretty, melancholy servant girl. He had intended to free her and ask his father for permission to marry her if she consented to such an arrangement. But she had thrown herself from the roof of the palace three weeks previously before Tarian had a chance to talk to her of marriage.
He gazed northward and drew his cloak tighter against the cold wind, wishing that he could see his mother's homeland. The Arnia Valley, where the Aranara's headquarters lay, was devoted to war and the building of a great army. The barracks lay on the south side of the palace, the stables on the west, the smithies on the east, and the training fields on the north. On the field a detachment of cavalry practiced moves.
Who is this Melissa Breaker I am now destined to marry? Tarian wondered. When she comes, will she quickly realize that I won't harm her, or will I have to lock her up to keep her from killing me? Will she be course and crude in her actions from ignorance? No...the Sarconians are not known for being unintelligent. Will she be proud and cold or mischievous and daring? In bringing her here, will I be taking her away from someone she loves? And if I am, how do I keep her from dying of grief? And how do I prove that I'm not a bloodthirsty warlord like...like my father?
Tarain turned from the railing and made his way down through the passages to the dungeon. He tried to breath lightly as he jogged though the stinking dungeon down to the lowest level where the Sarconian prisoners were kept. He passed over most of the cells, they were either empty or those in them had been there too long to have known Melissa. He finally stopped. The lad in this cell had been captured fairly recently. Tarian suppressed a grin as defiant black eyes gazed fiercely back at him through the prisoner's unkept hair, for he felt that he and this young man could have been friends in more peaceful times.
He crouched near the door. "Do you know a Melissa Breaker?" he asked.
"Maybe," the young man replied coldly. "Why do you want to know?"
"Malfic wants me to marry her if she's captured."
"You Aranara take and get rid of wives at your pleasure. Why should I tell you anything?"
"Maybe I want to make her happy if I marry her."
"Yeah, sure."
"I'm serious."
The young man looked carefully at Tarian. "I think you may be. What do you want to know? Whether I tell you anything or not depends on the nature of the information."
"What's she like?"
"Level-headed. Slightly mischievous. A good rider. She doesn't give her love or loyalty away freely, but once you have it, only the Lord of Heaven could make her break faith. She can be quite fierce, but underneath it all, she is tenderhearted. At least, so I hear."
"Is she as good-looking as she is rumored to be?"
"Good-looking is an understatement. She is absolutely beautiful."
"Why are you here?"
"I'm a worthless Sarconian dog," said the young man dryly. "Isn't that reason enough? Actually, some nutcase thought I was Jack Breaker. He was quite pleased with his catch until Malfic punched him and informed him he had the wrong person. I said that he indeed did and could they be nice for once and let me go-"
"And my father backhanded you and filled your ears with more curses than most people hear in a lifetime."
"How'd you know?"
"One, you have a bruise on your cheek. Two, well, I just know my father."
"Malfic's your father?"
"Unfortunately."
The young man grinned slowly. "I think I like you. You don't seem Aranaran."
"I'm not. My mother was half-musian."
The young man looked puzzled. "But I thought I sensed a strain of the High Folk in you; your eyes are purple. It's an Old Sarconian trait. And if you don't mind my introducing myself, I'm Lar Tren."
"Lar, I'm Tarian. I think I may be able to get you out of here."
Lar pushed his hair out of his face. "That would be nice."
Tarian said goodbye to Lar, went to his chambers, and sent a message to his father. Malfic was in a good mood, and decided to grant Tarian his request. It was after dark when Tarian received the positive reply. The palace was cold and mostly dark. Tarian wrapped himself in a dark wool cloak with a deep hood. He threw another cloak over his arm and headed for the dungeons.
He was challenged by the guard at the door. "No admittance to the dungeons, young man. Not at this time of night."
Tarian scowled at the guard and flashed his signet ring in the man's face. "This mean anything to you?"
"Oh, Sir. I didn't know. I beg your pardon."
"Just let me in and give me the keys to the cells on the lowest level," said Tarain.
"Yes, Sir." The guard opened the heavy door and handed Tarian the requested ring of keys and a lantern.
The dungeon was dark. Some of the prisoners were asleep, others raved at the moon. Tarian passed them silently and came to the lowest level of the dungeons. He found Lar's cell, unlocked the door, and tapped Lar on the shoulder. Lar awoke instantly and grabbed at the empty dagger sheath on his belt.
"Ugh," he muttered. "Thought I was up in the hills again. It sure is cold enough."
"No jest," Tarian replied. "Come on. I have permission to take you out of this filthy hole. The rest of the palace is freezing too, here's a cloak."
Lar took the cloak and threw it around his shoulders. "Where're we headed?"
"The second floor of the west wing of the palace," Tarian replied.
"I'm surprised your father let you get me out of here," said Lar.
"He's in a good mood," Tarian replied. "I told him that none of my guards could keep up with me when I really wanted to ride, which is true-"
"And you needed someone who could keep pace," finished Lar.
"You Sarconians are known for your riding skills," Tarian said.
"Well," said Lar, "I'll try not to disappoint you."

He didn't. The next day, Tarian discovered that Lar could not only keep pace with him, he could out-ride him with ease. This greatly amused Lar.
"Your normal companions must be terrible if they can't keep up with you," he said. "No offense meant, of course."
Tarian grinned. "None taken. My guards are real clodpoles when it comes to riding. But then, compared to you, so am I."
Lar laughed. "I was practically born in the saddle. You're not a bad horseman, but you've never been taught how to really handle a unicorn. They do handle a bit different from horses; they are faster and more sure-footed. You don't have to give them as much guidance as a horse, which is what you try to do. Unicorns are intelligent creatures, and that annoys them greatly Just tell them your direction; they'll make sure you get where you want to go. Try it."
Tarian turned his mount west and urged it into a gallop. The unicorn navigated easily over the slightly uneven ground. Tarian slowly urged the unicorn into a run. Lar stayed next to him the entire time, moving as if he were part of his mount. Tarian gently reined in his mount. "Where'd you learn to ride like that?" he asked Lar. "It's as if you're part of the unicorn."
"Where I come from," said Lar, "We ride bare-back as much as in the saddle. Actually, on a unicorn, bareback is safer than a saddle once you learn it; if you fall off, there's no stirrup to get your foot caught in. On a unicorn, being dragged is even more deadly than on a horse."
"Can see why," said Tarian. "Do you think you could teach me to ride like that?"
"Sure," said Lar. He dismounted easily, removed the saddle from his unicorn and put it on a rock. Tarian did the same.
Tarian's first attempt to leap onto the unicorn's back resulted in his sliding off and landing on the ground on the other side. He tried again and managed to stay on for a few seconds before falling. Lar continued with his patient coaching, and Tarian eventually mastered the leaping mount. He encountered the same difficulty as he learned bareback riding. Sliding off was ridiculously easy.
"I would have preferred an easier way to learn the meaning of 'sore muscles'," Tarian told Lar a few days later.
"You've almost got it," Lar reassured him, and it was true. Before too long, Tarian was riding as well as Lar. The two had become fast friends over this time, although they never let anyone at the palace know about it. They would ride out away from the palace and rest under a ridge, eating whatever the cooks had packed for them while Lar discoursed on the workings of Strianelian government.
"You really seem to know alot about the laws of Strianel," Tarian said one day. "Is what you know common knowledge?"
"Not really," Lar replied. "I was a diplomat in training back in Sarconia City. I really wanted to be a Scout, but I have a health complication; I become short of breath and pass out from lack of air during lengthy, vigorous exercise. Because of that, I wasn't able to join the Scouts, so I entered diplomatic training. That's sort of why I was captured; I passed out while fighting off my captors. Rather embarrassing."
"I can see why," said Tarian. "I wouldn't want to be captured that way. Lar, can you keep a secret?"
"What, are you in love with some girl whom you could never marry?" Lar's eyes glinted with amusement.
Tarian smiled but remained serious. "No. It's a secret that could me executed if my father found out about it."
"I can keep my mouth shut. No one really notices me anyway. There are bazillions of servants around here; I just blend in."
Tarian took a deep breath. "My father has an alliance with some lord on the plains. They plan to unite and take the mountains. While they're doing that, I'm supposed to stay here as Malfic's regent. When my father leaves, he will take practically the entire army with him. When he is far enough away, I plan to contact the Strianelian king, Nicanor, and hand the country over to him."
Lar's eyebrows lifted. "A daring plan. However, this lord on the plains, whoever he is, will not dare act against the mountain territory with Malfic unless he has control of the Strianelian throne. You are in a delicate situation, Tarian. How about this plan; it's a bit less dangerous. When your father leaves, wait. We Sarconians have a very strong fighting force and position; there will also be those who will not unite with the plains lord you mentioned, and they will join us. If your father and his ally lose, the rightful ruler will be restored to the throne, and you can surrender to him. If the Sarconians are defeated, I will assassinate your father when he gets back, and you can take the throne and do whatever you want."
"If you assassinate my father, there will be lords who will demand your execution," Tarian warned.
"I am not going to be a stupid assassin. I will do my assassinating, get out, go north, and hide. The Scouts would be on my side, as well as all the other Sarconians."
Tarian grinned. "And then I'll find the rightful leader and hand the throne over to them. Then you can come out of hiding. That's a better plan then I could have come up with."
Lar laughed. "As a diplomat, I study such things." He sobered. "I hope things work out. You could die if they do not."
"We could both die," Tarian replied.

Translated From Sarconian Scout

Kaia clung to Jasper as they galloped back to the Breaker farm. Jasper suspected that she was not used to the speed of the unicorns they rode. John and Mary welcomed Kaia as they had welcomed Jasper two years before, and Jasper began trying to reconnect with his sister. As he did so, he was horrified to learn that she was a candidate for Lady High Priestess of the gods. The Lady High Priestess was not just high priestess of one god or goddess, she was high priestess of them all, which meant that she had to do something to please each of them.
"I am honored to have been chosen," Kaia told Jasper. "Not many girls are, and I have already made it further than most." She pulled up her sleeve. "The god of war requires us to slay at least ten men in pitched battle. That is where most girls fail, but see," she pointed to two parallel scars on her upper arm, "I have already killed two. In the last Aranaran raid I wielded a hatchet along with the men of the town," she said proudly. "And I am not yet fourteen."
Jasper felt sick as he imagined his sister fighting with a hatchet and wondered how he would ever pull her out of the strange cult that she had been drawn into.
That night there was a violent thunder storm. Kaia had always hated storms, so Jasper went to her room to check on her. She was not there. A small bag lay open on the floor. Swift examination of it told Jasper that it contained the herbs that priestess took to throw themselves into trances. He ran out of the room.
"Jasi?" It was Anna. "Kaia just left the house. I told her not to go out, but her eyes are glazed over and she wouldn't talk to me."
Jasper tripped over himself as he sped down the stairs and out the door into the rain, screaming for his sister. It was a black night, broken only by a few flashes of lightning. Jasper bent low to the ground as he left the farmyard, trying to catch a glimpse of his sister's tracks. He followed her up to the heap of white rocks. She knelt there, face turned towards the sky, a mindless grin on her face. "Kaia!" Jasper shook her wildly, but she did not respond, having been totally overcome by the herbs. A howl burst from the trees, and the yellow eyes of wolves shone through the night. Jasper pulled out his only weapon, a knife, and stood over his entranced sister as the wolves advanced on them. A snarling ball of fur and muscles leaped at him. He grappled with it, stabbed his knife into its side, and flung the dead body from him as the other wolves converged on him. He did not know how long he fought the beasts, but at last they left. Jasper's arm had been bitten, but he hardly noticed it, turning instead to his sister and calling her name again. She did not respond. Feeling helpless, he knelt at her side and pushed his fingers against the bridge of his nose to stay awake. Lightning struck near them, and thunder shook the ground. At last the clouds cleared and the sky began to get lighter. Jasper examined his drenched sister, trying to figure out what kind of dose she had taken. What he discovered horrified him. Kaia was taking herbs that, if she had only three more doses, would shorten her life-span almost ten years.
Crying and putting his arms around her, he tried to get her to wake up, but he might as well have been trying to get a statue to respond. With a cry of anger at those who had dragged her to this, he rose and began flinging rocks off the short cliff nearby, screaming mindless vows of revenge.
"Jasper." The voice was deep and kind. Breathing hard, he turned to see Grandfather Breaker leaning on his staff in the early morning light. "You aren't going to make this any better by screaming about it."
"Who could have done such a thing to her?" asked Jasper, his voice breaking.
"Some people are just ignorant. They don't mean to harm people, but they do. Sit down, Jasper, and let me look at your arm." Jasper sat down, and Grandfather Breaker lowered himself down next to the boy. "The wolves came last night, did they?"
"Yes," said Jasper. "I was so afraid that I wouldn't be able to fight...and...she'd die." "You protected her well."
"When will she wake up?"
"Hard to tell. It could be hours, it could be days, depending on how many doses she's had previously."
"What do I do?"
"Give her a brother's love and do so unconditionally. That will take you far."
"Grandfather Breaker, I...I can't leave those herbs with her. I know they mean alot to her religion, but...I..I can't just let her have them! I'm going to burn them."
"She'll doubtless be angry, but I think that's the best thing for you to do for her, Jasper."
Jasper nodded, rose, and helped Grandfather Breaker to his feet. Picking up Kaia, he carried her back to the house, wincing at the pain in his arm.

Jasper left on a mission the next day. Kaia appeared to be out of her trance and sleeping peacefully. Jasper took the pouch of herbal tonics from her room and tucked them into his saddlebags when he left at first light with Jonathan. That night he pulled them out and examined them.
"What are those?" asked Jonathan.
"Tonics mixed by the priest and priestesses on the plains to throw themselves into trances. I found them in Kaia's room." He dropped the first tonic into the fire.
"You're going to burn them?"
"Yes." Jasper dropped another tonic into the fire.
Jonathan watched him carefully. "Is that a good idea?"
"For my relationship with my sister at this time, no," Jasper admitted. "But for her health, yes."
The last tonic was a liquid encased in a lovely little vial. He emptied it, rinsed it out, and tucked it back into the pouch.

When Jasper returned, Kaia's manner towards him was very cold. It kept growing colder as time went on and she learned how he had disposed of her tonics. "You took them," she said angrily. "You took the tonics and burned them!"
"For your own good Kaia, yes," Jasper replied.
"Heretic! Have you no respect for the gods?"
"No," said Jasper, being careful not to let any harsh edges creep into his words.
"Then you must die so that your blood will cover your sin of heresy against the gods, and you will have a chance of gaining their mercy in the afterlife!" Reaching forwards, Kaia grabbed Jasper's hunting knife from his belt and stabbed at him. Taken by surprise, he dodged too late and felt the knife slice his arm. Horrified, he pulled a dagger from his boot and held it in a defensive position. "Kaia, don't -"
She cut at him again. "You cannot be my brother!"
Jasper parried the knife half-heartedly. "Kaia, talk sense! I'm not trying to harm you!"
"My brother would never forsake the gods!" Kaia yelled, slashing wildly.
Jasper gave up trying to talk to her like this, stepped in, and knocked the knife from her hands, grabbing her wrists. "Kaia, listen to me."
Kaia growled like a wild animal and tried to bite him. Jasper shifted so that her back was against his chest and her wrists, which he still held firmly, were at her waist. "Kaia," said Jasper, using a tone that he normally reserved for skittish horses, "I'm not trying to hurt you. What I have done, I have done because I believed that it would help you."
"You. Took. My. Herbs," she hissed.
"I took them because I know what they are and what they do! They will bring you nothing but harm!" "No! That isn't true! I disown you Jasper! You are not my brother! Let go of me; it isn't right for you to hold me like this!"
Kaia's words pierced Jasper like daggers. He slowly released Kaia, who shoved him backwards. Looking into her wild eyes, he whispered, "What have they done to you?"
"I'm leaving!" said Kaia. "Now."
"No," said Jasper frantically. "It's too dangerous. I'm going on a mission with Jonathan tomorrow. Wait until I get back - it'll only be a week. I'll escort you to Brenia's outskirts to make certain you don't get lost or hurt."
"Fine," she spat, whirling away and leaving him. "What happened to your arm?" asked Jonathan the next morning.
"Kaia, well, she got angry and, um, came at me with a knife."
"And stabbed you in the arm?!"
"She was aiming for my heart; I dodged a little too late."
"That has to be hard," said Jonathan sympathetically, "but Jasper," he leaned over and put a hand on Jasper's shoulder, "do not dwell on it overmuch. Your spirit, I think, is already troubled enough without extensive consideration of this matter."
Jasper nodded. His mind often functioned on two levels: one aware of all that was going on around him and the other going through his own cogitations. But he couldn't let his situation with Kaia dominate his thoughts.
They were in the north that week, and nothing happened. That is, they were involved in no skirmishes. They had to pull a wild unicorn out of quicksand and were drenched by a thunderstorm, but after what they had been through, they thought little of these matters.
When Jasper returned, he knew something was wrong, for Stephen ran out to meet him. "Jasi! Mother and Daddy left for a while, and Kaia's gone off!"
"When?" Jasper demanded.
"Yesterday afternoon."
Jasper leaped off Thunder and unsaddled him. Stephen took the saddle to the barn as Jasper raced inside the house to get ready to leave. He seized a spare cloak, a more extensive medical kit than the one he usually carried, and other things that might come in handy if Kaia had gotten herself hurt. He flung a light saddle onto Thunder and bumped into Anna, who had prepared a small pack of food for him. Thanking her, he told the twins to tell John and Mary that he had gone down the Highway in search of Kaia.
He rode at what would have been a hard pace for a horse, but Thunder, being a unicorn, took it in stride, for it was an easy pace for him. It grew late, but Jasper pressed on. There were dark clouds coming in from Corvan, and he suspected there would be another storm. He scanned the sides of the road in the blue moonlight and finally spotted Kaia, lying halfway down an embankment. He tumbled down the slope, sliding in the mud from the last storm and losing his balance. He landed next to Kaia in a heap of briers. Groaning as they jabbed him, he lifted Kaia and floundered back up the slope, carrying her. She was limp in his arms and he wondered if she was alive or not. She moaned as he put her on Thunder and led the unicorn back up the trail a few hundred yards to where there was a cave.
As Jasper laid out blankets and pine needles in an effort to make his sister as comfortable as possible, he was put on the alert by the sound of hooves. He drew his sword and slipped to a place from which he could view the road without being seen. The figures that rode up where cloaked, but they rode unicorns that he recognized as Ember and Firestorm, which meant that the riders were probably Jack and Joshuel. His recognition of them was confirmed when they spoke.
"That's Jasper's unicorn," said Jack, "but where is Jasper?"
"Probably hiding," said Joshuel.
Jasper walked softly towards them and did not speak until he was but a few feet from Jack's side. "Aye. Until I knew who you were."
Jack jumped. "Where'd you come from? Boy, you're getting good at this!"
"Jonathan's a good teacher," Jasper responded.
"We hear that you came up here after your sister," said Joshuel.
Jasper nodded. They went into the cave where Kaia lay. Jack and Joshuel took over the job of setting up camp so that Jasper could tend to Kaia, who had been badly hurt when she fell down the slope.
Kaia awoke in the middle of the night to crashing thunder. She hated thunder. It shook the ground, and the lightning that came with it caused the night to be spooky. Her body hurt all over, but she was out of the pouring rain. She lay on a soft bed of pine needles that were covered in a thick blanket, and another blanket and a cloak lay over her. The thunder crashed again, and she whimpered.
Suddenly, someone leaned over her, placing a hand to her cheek. "Are you alright? Where does it hurt?" It was Jasper's voice, and it was filled with concern.
"Everywhere," Kaia moaned. Jasper started to check some of the bandages on her arms, but she stopped him. "Just hold my hand. I'm frightened."
Jasper took her small hand in both of his. His hands were rough and calloused to the touch, but still gentle. "I was so afraid that you were dead when I saw you at the bottom of that slope."
"I fell. I didn't wait...like I should have."
Lightning flashed, followed swiftly by crashing thunder. "I disowned you, Jasper. I left you, but you still came after me to make certain that I would be alright. Why?"
Another bolt of lightning struck the tops of the mountains.
"You disowned me. I never disowned you."
Something cool came into contact with Kaia's arm, and was gently shifted by Jasper's fingers. Kaia's eyes caught its gleam in the dim light. "What...?" she asked, not quite able to resurrect the faded memories that were connected with the bracelet that now encircled her wrist.
"It's your charm bracelet," Jasper reminded her. "You lost it a few years ago, remember? I found it when I ran away."
"All this time...you kept it?"
"Sometimes I forgot that I had it, but yes, I did keep it. There was always that faint hope that I'd see you again."
The thunder rumbled.
"You won't go, will you?"
"No." He knelt beside her long after she fell asleep, still holding her hand.

� Tales (1) � Tell Your Tale! � Stable Interconection

Translated From Sarconian Scout

None of Jasper's missions with Jonathan were as grueling as the first or laid back as the second.  Jasper gained experience and confidence with each exploit and skirmish.  Jonathan rarely showed it openly, but he was very proud of his Strianelian student.  Jasper had adapted well to the Sarconian culture.  The Council had their eye on the lad as well, for he was their link to the plains.  The Sarco Mountains were technically part of Strianel, but the kings and queens had long ignored them.  Now, however, the Sarconians had a link to the plains: Jasper.   Using him, they could reunite themselves with the rest of the kingdom, and they only needed the chance to bring the boy into play.  A chance came sooner than anyone expected.

"Please, sir," said Jasper, "I don't think I'm qualified to go with her."

The councilman got up and began to pace.  "You know more about Brenia than anyone here, Jasper.  If that doesn't qualify you, I don't know what would."

"I know I know more about Brenia, sir.  That's why I don't want to go.  Because of that knowledge."

The councilman turned.  "Explain yourself, Jasper."

Jasper took a deep breath.  The Council had just called him, asking him to accompany Alethea, who had successfully completed completed her internship with Master Kall in Corvan and become a diplomat, down to Brenia.  The Brenians had just suffered from a heavy hailstorm that had destroyed most of their harvest, and the Sarconains wished to offer them supplies.  "Sir, the Scouts are legend on the plains and not in a good way.  If I were to be seen with Alethea, it could easily spell death for both of us."

"You are certain of this?"

"Yes, sir."

The councilman flung his hands up.  "I cannot send her alone!"

"You could send Jack Breaker with her," said Jasper cautiously.  "He's very good with a sword and knows more about the tribesmen than most up here."

"So he is, so he does.  Very well, then.  Jack goes with her."

 

Jack Breaker slid his right hand under his cloak and grasped his sword hilt. He touched his heels to his horse and rode closer to  Alethea. He had felt honored that, at merely fifteen, he had been given the job of guarding his cousin on this mission, but only now did he realize the full responsibility of his job.

    He looked around at the townspeople, who drew back from him and Alethea in fear. He could see the beginnings of starvation in their eyes. He suspected that Alethea's offer of the mountain people's large excess of harvest would be welcomed.

    They dismounted in front of the city hall and were met by a guard at the door. Alethea stated her business, and she and Jack were allowed inside. They climbed up two flights of stairs and were admitted into the chambers of the town council.

    "Where do you come from?" the council demanded, unable to recognize either of them.

    "Sarconia City," Alethea replied. "My people have heard that you are in great distress."

    "A hailstorm has wiped out most of our crops." A council member waved his hand helplessly.  "Half of the city, if not more, will be dead by spring."

    "My people have had a bountiful harvest," said Alethea," over twice as much as we need. I have come to offer you our great excess."

   The council looked sceptical. "You no doubt expect payment."

 "We could give you the whole lot for, say, three thousand hios."

    Jack’s eyebrows lifted slightly. Alethea had named a price that was about a half of what the shipment was worth.

  "That is ridiculous!" the council said. "One thousand."

    "Twenty-five hundred. I will go no lower." 

    "One thousand!"

    "Twenty-five hundred. Take it and live, or leave it and starve."  Alethea gave the council a steely look.

    "You say you are from Sarconia City?"

    Alethea inclined her head slightly "Yes."

    "Then you come from the mountains."

    "We do."

    "You are trying to take advantage of us. No doubt you saw this coming through your Art; perhaps you caused the storm just to get money out of us."

    Jack spoke up. "She is no witch. The shipment, in truth, is worth about six thousand."

   Alethea nodded. "I have dropped the price as low as I can.  The farmers who gave the crops to us must receive some sort of payment to afford seed next year."

    "You can drop it lower, witch!" the council said angrily.

    Jack’s fingers flew to his sword hilt. "She is not a witch!" he yelled angrily, furious at the insult to his cousin and unable to contain his frustration at the council's impudence. "If she was, she would have already forced you to comply with her or killed you for your insolence!"

    "You’d best hope we do not kill you for your insolence!" retorted one of the council members, starting to rise from his seat and reaching for his sword. 

    Jack took an angry step forward, but Alethea stopped him. "Jack," she said, with a firm hand on his arm, "Why don’t you go outside, walk around for a while and calm down."  She gave him an almost non-existent push in the direction of the door.

    Jack paused for a minute, then pulled out his dagger and stuck it into Alethea’s belt. "She can use it well," he said meaningfully to the council, then turned on his heel and walked from the room.

 Jack stalked angrily through the dark, muddy streets. His mind vaguely registered that there was a girl nearby, but he didn’t particularly care.  He didn’t pay much attention to girls anyway. He kicked a rock viciously across the street, for once wishing that he was a wizard so that he could zap that whole stupid council.

    The girl near him slipped suddenly in the thick mud in the street. Reflexively, Jack reached out and caught her before she fell into a large puddle of mud.

    "Oh my," said the girl, regaining her balance and seeing Jack's steadying arm around her waist.

    "Are you okay?" Jack asked, dropping his arm, his anger briefly forgotten.

    "I...I guess so," the girl replied nervously, brushing at her skirt self-consciously. She bent and started picking up the packages that she had dropped.  Jack helped her. When all the packages had been picked up, the girl began to walk hurriedly away. Jack, who was still holding some of the girl’s packages, followed her.

    After a few blocks, the girl turned around. "Why are you following me?" she asked.

    Jack looked at her, puzzled. Wasn’t it obvious? "I’m holding some of your packages. I figured I’d help you carry them home."

    "Oh," the girl said, brushing nervously at her hair with her free hand and peering at her dim reflection in a puddle before she continued walking.

Jack fell into step beside her. The girl glanced at him like a frightened mouse. Jack cleared his throat. "So...what’s the weather been like around here?" he asked. What a stupid question, Jack, he thought. Just about everyone probably knows what the weather has been around here.

    "Most of our crops have been destroyed by a huge hail storm," the girl replied, sounding dejected.  Her shoulders slumped.

    "How terrible. Perhaps we should change the subject and not talk about such an unpleasant topic."

    The girl blinked and looked at Jack, apparently puzzled. "Well...if you want to..."

   Jack tried to talk with the girl about horses, but she knew next to nothing about them. She was also apparently very nervous, and when she did speak, she stumbled over her words. Finally she stopped, faced him, and blurted out, "Why are you trying to court me when we don’t even know each other?"

    "I wasn’t trying to court you," said Jack, now very confused. "What did I do that would suggest that I was attempting to court you?"

   "You caught me when I fell, around the waist, and then kept your arm around my waist until you were sure I was alright."

   "So? Isn’t it proper to catch a girl when she falls, and support her until she is capable of supporting herself?"

    "Boys don’t do that unless they are courting a girl!"

    "So you are saying that any other boy would have just let you fall if they weren’t interested in you?"

  The girl looked at Jack as if he had just said something mindless. "Yes."

    Jack was shocked. "That’s not proper!"  Letting a girl fall into a mud puddle when you could intervene was not tolerated among the mountain people.

    "You have strange opinions."  The girl started walking again.  "And you are walking me home when you are not courting me!"

    "It’s after dark. Where I come from, it would be considered inappropriate to allow a girl to go home unescorted after dark."

    "You come from a place with strange customs."

   "I could easily say the same thing," said Jack, deciding that the plainspeople were rather uncivilized, at least in their courtesy towards girls.

    The girl shook her head and quickened her pace. As she did so, her foot hit a rock embedded in the mud, and she slipped. Jack reached out, caught her, and, ignoring her protests, picked her up and began carrying her down the street.

    "This really isn’t proper," said the girl.  She sounded angry.

    "Humph," said Jack, thinking that the plainspeople had some of the most ridiculous customs he'd ever heard of. "I’m doing it anyway. Now, we might as well get around to introductions. My name is Jack, and you are..."

    "Kaia...Watson." Kaia was perfectly stiff and was starting to dig her fingernails into Jack’s neck.

    Jack winced in pain - Kaia's fingernails were tolerably long - but decided that yelling at the girl would only draw attention to them and worsen his situation.  Besides, the girl's name stirred a memory in him.  "Kaia...That’s a lovely name." Jack looked down at her as he tried to place it. "I have a sister."

    "You do?" The fingernails stopped digging in and came out of the dents that they had created.

    Ah ha!  Curiosity works! "Yup. Carried her six miles once when she twisted her ankle."  Jack shifted Kaia's weight and peered around the packages in her lap, trying to see where to go.

    "You’ve caught girls before when they fell?"

    "Yeah." Wouldn’t that be obvious, considering that I caught you out of pure reflex?

    Kaia's jaw dropped slightly. "You’ve carried girls before?"

    "Yeah." I picked you up without a second thought! Do you have any reasoning skills?

    "When you were not engaged to them?"

    "Mhm." Do I look like I’ve been engaged at all, Kaia?

   Kaia's mouth hung open in amazement.  Finally she managed to say, "And that’s acceptable where you come from?!"

    "It’s almost expected." 

    Kaia went limp with shock. "I’d like to try to walk on my own now."

    Jack slowly set her down. Kaia cried out as she put weight on her ankle. "I think it’s sprained," she moaned. Jack gently set her on a nearby porch and carefully probed the ankle with his fingers, assuring himself that it was not broken.

     Jack carried Kaia to her home and set her down in a chair in the kitchen. The people who appeared to be her parents thanked him for seeing her home. Jack went back to the city hall and waited outside with the horses for Alethea.

    Alethea came jogging down the steps a few minutes later.

    "What happened?" Jack asked, handing her horses' reins to her.

    Alethea swung easily into the saddle. "They want us to leave the shipment in a clearing a bit northwest of here."

    Jack mounted his own horse. "Did they finally pay you for it?"

    Alethea patted a pouch under her cloak.  "I have the twenty-five hundred."

    Jack and Alethea’s horses jogged along the Highway. It was late, and the wind was cold. Jack reached in his pocket for his gloves, and his fingers touched a small package; one of Kaia’s. Jack pulled on his gloves while he explained his situation to Alethea. She looked slightly amused.

   "What are you going to do about it?" she asked somewhat playfully.

   "Take the package back to her." Jack replied.

    "Any excuse you can find to visit a pretty girl, hmm?" Alethea grinned mischievously.

    "I didn’t say that!" Jack cried defensively.

  Alethea's eyes glinted with slight amusement. "So you didn’t. I’m heading back to Sarconia City. You find a place to camp and go down to Brenia in the morning. I have no doubt that you can handle yourself."  Alethea kneed her horse up the darkening trail.

     "Lethy?" Jack called after his cousin.

     Alethea stopped her mount and turned in the saddle.

     "Be sure and tell Melissa where I am.  If you don't, that sister of mine in apt to interrogate the entire country and hold the king and queen hostage to find out where I am."

     Alethea smiled.  "I'll tell her.  But it's not my fault if she teases you about it when you get back."

     "No, I guess it isn't.  I won't blame you.  But you will come to my defence, right?"

     "Depends." Alethea replied, laughing.  "You sure are nervous.  You are certain there's no more to this than returning a package?"

     "Good heavens, Alethea!  Melissa's teasing will be enough without you adding yours!  I am just returning a package, nothing more."

     "Alright.  Whatever you say."  Alethea continued up the trail, laughing to herself.

 

Jack awoke early the next morning. He packed his gear swiftly and rode back down the trail. He left his horse just outside of town and slipped through the silent streets to Kaia’s home.

    He vaulted the garden wall and slipped up to a kitchen window. Kaia was fingering the pendent on a necklace and mouthing words to herself.   Jack thought about the many times he had watched Jasper do that many times before Jasper had finally abandoned the service of the gods and committed himself to The Way.  Then Jack realized why Kaia's name had stirred a memory in him.  Kaia was Jasper's younger sister!  He waited until Kaia finished her prayers, then tapped on the window. The girl opened it and leaned partway out.

    "So you are courting me!" she whispered.

  Jack thought that she sounded slightly pleased. "I am not," he hissed. "One of your packages slid into my pocket. I came to return it." Jack handed the package to her.

    The girl's eyes brightened. "Oh!  I wondered where that was. Thank you." Kaia glanced around. "Are you a wizard?"

    "No," said Jack firmly.

    "So you can’t make yourself disappear or cast any sort of defensive or offensive spells?"

    "I can go so quickly and quietly that I may seem to disappear, but I cannot really disappear, and no, I cannot cast any sort of spell."

    "Then you’d best leave quickly and quietly. I think someone has seen you talking to me."  Kaia reached up to shut the window.

  Jack caught her arm.  "Wait.  Do you have a brother?"

    "J-Jasper?"  she whispered, the word sounding unused.  "You know him?"

    "Yes."

    "Give him my love," said Kaia dazedly. "Now, go!"

    Yells of alarm were heard.  Jack turned swiftly from the window and vaulted back over the garden wall. Instead of leaving, however, he hid in some shrubbery and watched as a mob came tearing up to Kaia’s door.

    "You were seen talking to a wizard!" the leader of the mob said angrily to Kaia.

    "I do not believe that he was a wizard, and I have not had previous association with him," Kaia replied calmly.

    The mob’s leader pointed to the package in Kaia’s hand. "A witness said he gave that to you."

    "Yes."  Kaia's hand shifted nervously on the small package.

    "What does it contain?"

    "Herbs. I..."

    "Herbs! To use in your potions and spell-casting no doubt! It seems that you are a wizard’s apprentice and therefore a witch!"

    "Burn her!" yelled someone in the mob, and the cry was taken up by the others. Kaia’s guardian moved to her defense, but was pushed roughly aside.  Jack's sharp eyes caught the flash of a small dagger in the man's assailant's hand and saw the telltale sign of blood as the man crumpled against the doorframe. Kaia’s hands were tied, and she was dragged by the howling crowd toward the town square.

   Jack followed the crowd long enough to ascertain that the burning was to be carried out immediately. He raced back to his horse. Something had to be done for Kaia before the innocent girl was subjected to the horrible death that had been suddenly planned for her on his account. He leaped into the saddle and galloped back into town.

    The crowd was roaring angrily at Kaia as Jack came up to the square. She was tied to a stake, and wood was piled around her feet. She looked frightened. Jack urged his horse forward and galloped into the square, yelling gibberish and violently brandishing a dagger. He hoped that the gibberish would sound enough like spell-casting to frighten the superstitious townspeople. It apparently did, for they drew back from him in terror, and some fled. He dashed up to Kaia, sliced the bonds on her hands and pulled her up behind him. Before anyone could gather their wits, Kaia and Jack were riding away.

    As they fled, a woman jumped in front of them.  Jack reined in his horse, and they plowed to a stop, barely missing the woman.  The woman came alongside them with a small bundle.  "The gods favor you Kaia," the woman said.  "Take this and fly!  The gods be with you."

    Kaia took the bundle, and Jack urged the horse back into a run.

    On the trail up into the mountains Jack stopped only to rest the horse. He did not know how far the townspeople would pursue him and Kaia.  He knew that his rescue of her would only seem to confirm the townspeople's idea that he was a wizard, and Kaia was his apprentice.   The sun was low in the west when Jack noticed that Kaia was sagging. He berated himself for forgetting that she did not have the endurance level he did. He stopped his horse near a stream, dismounted, and helped Kaia down.  She collapsed next to a stream, exhausted and frightened.

    Jack, Kaia and the horse drank deeply and gratefully from the stream. Jack caught a fish, started a fire, and baked his catch in the coals. The sun began to set as he and Kaia finished eating. Jack knew that the cold of night would come soon. He wrapped Kaia in his cloak and pulled the hood over her head. Flinging his blanket around his shoulders, he mounted. Kaia climbed up behind him, and they rode on.

    The night steadily deepened. Jack was forced to slow his horse to a walk. Kaia’s grip around his waist began to loosen, and he realized that she was asleep. He sighed, longing for his surefooted unicorn, Ember, who could see in almost pitch darkness and would not let a rider drop to the ground. Jack decided that as soon as he was on the high plains he would call Ember. His horse, Fern, knew the way home well enough.

    When they reached the high plains, Jack whistled; it was a clear call that had never failed to bring Ember to him. A minute later Jack could see Ember coming over the edge of the plain. Jack rode toward the unicorn, who stopped beside him as he dismounted. Ember nuzzled Jack’s shoulder, apparently pleased to see his master. Jack gently lifted the sleeping Kaia onto Ember’s back. He tied Fern’s rains around the saddle horn and gently told the horse to go home. Then he sprang up behind Kaia and lightly touched Ember’s sides with his heels. The unicorn immediately set off at a swift, smooth pace.

    They raced to the edge of the plains and down the trail that led into the brightly lit city. Jack circled the city, heading for the ranch house on the southwest edge. There were lights in the windows. Ember slowed as he reached the porch. Melissa came out of the house.

    "Finally decided to bring home a bride, Jack?" she asked playfully.

    Jack smiled. He knew his sister was teasing him. Melissa was in no hurry for him to get married, and so far showed no inclination to marriage herself. Jack liked it that way, at least for the time being. He was too young to be thinking of a wife anyway. He answered her, "No. They were going to burn her at the stake down on the plains."

    Melissa made a disgusted sound. "Without a trial, I suppose?"

    "Yes."

    "Bring her inside. I should have said that first, considering it’s so cold out." Melissa pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders.

    Jack lifted Kaia from Ember’s back. The unicorn brushed the top of Kaia’s head, touched Jack’s cheek with the tip of his velvety nose, and trotted off to the warm stable. Jack carried Kaia into the cabin and laid her down on a couch beside the fire. Kaia’s eyes slowly opened.

    "Where an I?" she asked.

    "Sarconia City," Melissa replied. "Heart of the Sarco Mountains and once capital of the Old Kingdom. I am Melissa Breaker, Jack’s twin sister. You are among friends here."

"My brother?"  Kaia asked softly.

Melissa glanced at Jack.  "He's probably with Jonathan at  Green Lantern Scout Station," she said.

Jack smiled at Kaia.  "I'll take you down there tomorrow."

 

Kaia awoke the next morning in one of the many guest bedrooms at the Breaker Ranch.  A folded dress was on a chair beside the bed, a shorter off white dress hung over the back of the chair, and soft leather moccasins were on the floor.  She slid out of bed and lifted the dark brown fabric carefully, holding the tunic dress up to herself.   It looked like it would fit, and her putting it on only proved the fact.  It was floor-length, with two bands of gold-colored embroidery a few inches above them hem and long, tight sleeves.  She drew the white over dress on over it, buckled the wide, soft leather belt about her waist and laced up the moccasins.  The white dress only came down to her knees and its wide sleeves only reached to a little beyond her elbows.  Gold embroidery identical to that on the brown dress was on the edges of the sleeves, hem and collar.  She pushed open her door and threaded her way down the stairs, following her nose to the kitchen, where Jack and Melissa waited for her.

"You ready to go after breakfast?" Jack asked her.

Kaia nodded shyly.  "Yes."

They ate pancakes and bacon, and then Kaia waited on the porch while Jack saddled Ember.  Kaia fingered her talisman and murmured the appropriate prayers to the goddess of the morning and the god of travelers.  Jack led Ember up to the  porch, mounted, and pulled Kaia up behind him.  They set off at a fast pace.
Kaia was stunned by the swiftness of the unicorn, despite having to bear two people.  She clung firmly to Jack's waist, frightened that she might fall off as Ember navigated the rough ground at high speed, jumping over the rocks and logs.  She prayed to the god of travelers again for good measure. 

They reached Green Lantern Station at dusk.  Jack tossed Ember's reins over the hitching post as his dismounted.  Turning, he lifted Kaia from the saddle and they went up the porch steps.  Kaia hesitated at the oak door of the station.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked her.

"My brother.  I...I have not seen him in so long.  I...does he remember me?"

"Yes," said Jack.  "He remembers you and prays, I think, for you often."

Kaia still hung back, not certain whether or not she wanted to enter the door.

"Here," said Jack.  "I'll go and get him.  You can meet out on the porch."

Kaia nodded gratefully and stepped away from the door.  Jack went inside the station, and Kaia looked around.  The porch was lit by lanterns that glowed green.  Runes were set over the door, supposedly with the station's name.  Vines crawled up the posts of the porch, across the walls, and, in places, they were over the windows.  Kaia moved to one of these places, watching Jack through the vines as he threaded his way through the circular tables.

The table that Jack went to had two boys seated at it.  One was almost facing the window, and Kaia could see him.  The other had his back to the window, and it was this boy that Jack spoke to, leaning over the lad's shoulder.  "Jasper," Kaia whispered.  She hastily jumped back from the window as Jasper rose from the table and followed Jack out of the station.

Kaia turned her back on the door and gripped the porch railing until her knuckles were white.  Her breath caught as the door opened and shut behind her.  She waited for Jasper to speak, waited to recognize her brother's voice.

"Kaia?"  The voice was deeper than she remembered, firmer, and it came from right behind her.

Kaia spun, terrified.  She hadn't even heard the boy cross the porch to her.  She caught a glimpse of tanned features and slightly overgrown hair before Jasper stepped forwards and flung his arms around her waist, lifting her effortlessly.  She got her hands on his shoulders and pushed, lifting herself away from him.  He still held her about a foot above the ground with ease.  In this attitude, Kaia was taller than Jasper, and he tilted back he head to grin up at her.  The grin faded slightly as she desperately searched his features, trying to recognize him, then widened again as Kaia slid her arms around Jasper's neck and dropped her head to his shoulder.

Jasper spun her around a few times, set her down, and hugged her tightly again.  Kaia gasped; Jasper had become powerful and she felt like she could hardly breathe.  He finally let her go. "Come on inside," he said, taking her hand.  Kaia hid shyly behind him as he led her into the room and blushed at the chorus of greetings that erupted as soon as the Scouts noticed her. She tried to stay behind Jasper, but he pulled her to his side and presented a general introduction: "This is my sister, Kaia."  This caused things to go very slowly as they went back to the table where Jack was sitting with the boy who had faced the window Kaia had looked into.  Almost everyone came over to greet her and introduce themselves.  Kaia clung to Jasper's hand and arm and tried to nod graciously to all the people.  Jasper was quite at ease among them, she noticed. 

At last they got to the table, and Jasper pulled out a chair for Kaia as Jack and the other boy rose to greet her.

"Kaia," said Jasper, "this is my mentor, Jonathan Carzim," said Jasper.

Jonathan bowed slightly to Kaia, smiling and exchanging the usual pleasantries.  Kaia sank into a chair between Jack and Jasper, and the boys sat down.  The ever observant station-master's wife brought Kaia some food: grilled chicken with rice.   Kaia was amazed to see the rice.  On the plains, it was only available to the rich.

"We import it extensively from Corvan," Jasper explained. 

Kaia, who was starved, did not protest, but began eating quite happily.  The dish had been drizzled with some kind of sauce that tasted wonderful.  The cool milk in the wooden mug calmed her nerves, and she slowly began to relax.  Jonathan and Jasper carried on some sort of conversation in quiet voices, leaving her to eat while the food was still hot.  Jack listened to them and made comments occasionally.

She missed the grim looks the three boys exchanged as she fingered her talisman and mouthed prayers to the house goddess, the god of travelers and a few others appropriate to the occasion.

 

Jasper was somber as he watched his sister finger the talisman.  He thought about how he had begun to forsake the polytheistic religion of the plains during his first semester as a Scout Student, and, on his second mission with Jonathan, had broken the final ties, quietly dropping his own talisman into the campfire.  Conforming to The Way, he had been immersed into Life the very night he had destroyed the talisman, and life for him had never been the same.  He knew he wouldn't trade his faith for anything, and now, watching his sister mutter prayers to false gods like he had, he knew that he had alot of work ahead of him.  He exchanged sober looks with Jack and Jonathan.  None of them stopped her, however.  Being disrespectful of the religion she cherished was not going to give her a favorable view of The Way, but Jasper knew that the new difference between his religious views and Kaia's would be presented to her that night.

Kaia stopped mouthing words after a few minutes and looked over at her brother, obviously wondering what would happen next.

"I'll impose upon Jack to share his room with me tonight," said Jonathan.  "That way Kaia doesn't have to be alone or with someone she doesn't know."

"Not a problem," said Jack.

"Just make sure you bolt the door good," said Jasper.  "Jack's taken off to parts unknown in his sleep before.  I can't count how many times I've had to chase him down."

The three boys laughed and Kaia looked a little confused.

The evening was pleasant,  full of storytelling and songs.  Kaia held Jasper's arm as they walked to the small bedroom. 

"Jasper," she said, "Remember how we used to say our prayers together every day?"

Jasper winced. Now it comes.  "Yes."

"We can do that again."

Jasper slowly opened to door and shut it.  "No, not the way things are now."

"No?"  Kaia dropped his arm.  "What has happened?"

"I have forsaken the gods, Kaia."

Kaia trembled.  "Forsaken the gods!  It is a wonder that they have not struck you down!"

"They could not strike me down, Kaia,"  Jasper said quietly.

"Do not blaspheme the gods, Jasper!" Kaia gasped.

"I cannot blaspheme gods that are not," Jasper told her gently.  "I serve the Lord of Heaven now."

"You follow The Way?"

"Yes."

Kaia shook violently, her eyes growing wide.  She fell to her knees, pulling out her talisman. 

"Kaia, no," said Jasper, going to one knee beside her.  "Drehannda, stocyos naom.  Cab-" he stopped, realizing with a jolt that Kaia did not know Old Sarconian.

"But, the gods will be angry.  They will kill you if I do not beg their mercy on you!"

"No,"  He gripped her shoulders.  "I do not fear the gods, Kaia, nor should you.  They have no power, much less over those who follow The Way."

Kaia looked up at him, terror in her eyes.  "You...you...speak so strangely.  They will strike you down, Jasi, and then fling your soul into immortal misery!" She covered her face with her hands.  "Oh, oh, my brother, my brother," she moaned as she began her prayers.

Jasper let go of her and rose, choking on tears himself.  Turning away, he kicked off his boots, swung up to the top bunk and punched the pillow in frustration before he sunk his head into its soft depths and began his own prayers to a God who has ears.

I need to know. Is anyone reading what I'm posting, and do you like it? Please leave a short comment and tell me. ~Justyne

Translated From Sarconian Scout

Jasper was happy to get back to the farm. The long days in the fields were nothing compared to his first mission as a Junior Scout. To his surprise, however, Jasper did not see Jonathan for nearly a week. When they finally did see each other, Jonathan was very sober. "Well?" Jonathan asked him.

"Well, what?" asked Jasper, sticking his hoe in the storage shed.

"Do you want to continue?"

 "With my Junior Scouthood?"

 "Yes," said Jonathan. "I know that our last mission, your first, was pretty unpleasant. Unfortunately, it's a pretty good sample of what we'll be going through most of the time."

"Well," said Jasper, "I didn't exactly join the Scouts for the fun of it."

Jonathan nodded. "Those who do are quickly disappointed. I suppose you know that Melissa got her Scouthood recently?" Jasper nodded. "She was sent south with two older Scouts into Arnia to steal documents from Malfic Vespertine," Jonathan continued. "Jack's concerned about her, though, and rightfully so, so he's getting an escort together to await them at the border in case they are pursued."

"And we're going with them?" Jasper asked.

"Yes. We leave tomorrow."

"Alright then."

 

The party rode south for only a few hours before Melissa was spotted. "She's alone, but there's a strong detachment on her heels," Jack commented, who was able to see further than most of the others present. They quickly formed a defensive formation and waited. When Melissa reached them, her mount, Dawn, was exhausted, and Jack quickly transferred her to Ember, who was relatively fresh. She rode off quickly for the city as the detachment converged on the people behind her.

Jack suddenly found himself fiercely engaged with the leader of the Aranaran detachment, a tall, sandy-haired man with a golden circlet on his head. His clothes were black, but of rich fabric. Slowly, as the were separated and rejoined by the ebb of the skirmish, Jack deduced who the man was, getting his final confirmation of the man's identity when an Aranaran soldier referred to him as 'my lord prince.' The leader of the detachment was none other than Maleficence Vespertine, Malfic's son and the Crown Prince of Aranar. The confrontation raged violently and, in the heat of combat, Jack plunged his sword into Maleficence's body. The Prince dropped to the ground, dead. Jack had fought before, but he had never killed. He stood heedless in the midst of the skirmish, blood running off his sword, staring down at Maleficence with a sick feeling in his gut. Jasper's scream of, "JACK!" as an Aranaran soldier swung his sword at Jack's head was not heard, and the clash of steel as Jasper jumped in and parried the blade reverberated in his ears as if from a distance. The rest of the battle was a faint whirl of shouts and clashing swords. Someone began shaking him, and his name rang in his ears, but he did not respond. Suddenly, someone slammed into him, and arms wrapped around his waist. Melissa's voice broke through his trance. "Lissa," he whispered, "you're safe." Then everything was lost in an instantaneous chatter of concerned voices as everyone asked him if he was alright.

An exhausted Melissa told everyone that both the Scouts sent with her had been killed. They had succeeded in capturing several documents, which Melissa had safely delivered to the council. After she had done this, she had returned to the skirmish with reinforcements that had boosted Jack's original party. One of the Scouts in the reinforcement group told Jonathan and Jasper that the council wanted them to go east and complete a mission that another Scout had failed to finish because of several bad wounds. Jasper was very curious - this being only his second mission, but from Jonathan's casualness during the briefing of the situation, they weren't being asked to do anything unusual.

As a matter of fact, the mission was unusual, for nothing happened. Both mentor and student had expected to run into serious difficulties, considering the condition of the Scout they were replacing, but apparently he had cleaned out all the antagonists in the area when he was wounded. Even the elements were oddly cooperative. This gave Jasper more time to think and ask on-field questions than usual, and the conversation began turning to religion quite often. Jasper had come a long way from that first conversation with Jack in the attic, but he still lived in terror of the gods, both those of the plains and the Lord. This left him divided. The gods required that he serve them, the Lord required that he serve Him and Him alone. Jasper could not serve both, but neither could he choose one without invoking the wrath of the other. It came down to deciding on which was real and which was the invention of man. Neither existing was not an option for Jasper - he was convinced that there was some sort of deity. If there wasn't, where had the world come from and why did things like snowflakes look like the work of a master craftsman? Why were the stars scattered across the sky in patterns that looked like archers, dragons, or other recognizable shapes, and why did the tip of the Great Horn always point to the north? There were too many proofs for him to ignore.

The question burst out of him one night beside the campfire. "What about the third condition?"

"What?" The confused look on Jonathan's face made Jasper realize that he needed to explain what he had been thinking about before going further.

"Ryan did a lesson one night about the three conditions. But he...as he covered everything the Lord did, living a perfect life and then willingly giving it up - it only covered the first two! So what about the third condition?"

"The guilty accepting the sacrifice of the innocent?"

"Yes. How does one do that?"

"You have to die," said Jonathan, "and you have to be buried."

"As the Lord was?"

"Yes. If we are united with Him in His death, we shall be united with Him in His resurrection."

"Did you die?" Jasper asked slowly, after mulling this over.

"Yes," said Jonathan.

"So...this must not be a...uh...death death."

"Physical death, you mean?"

"Yes," said Jasper. "So how is it done?"

"Well, you die, meaning that you utterly forsake your former way of life and commit yourself to living in a way that will please the Lord."

"And the burial?"

"That is done in water. It symbolizes the grave."

"And resurrection?"

"That is when you come up out of the water."

"So what, in short, does the Lord want from me?"

Jonathan looked Jasper straight in the eye. 'Everything."

"Isn't that a little, well, drastic? I mean...everything! It's too much!"

"It's no more than He asked of Himself. While He was here, He devoted himself to teaching and caring for people. When He died, He gave His life for you so that the powers of evil would have no power over you. He gave all He had to give and then some."

Jasper was shaking his head. "Still..."

"Life is easier when you are in His hands, too. I know, it looks rougher; you have to give up things that look good, but later, it pays off. You live a life with fewer regrets, and the regrets you do have are from times when you strayed from His ways."

"Ryan once said that is was a terrible thing to fall into the hands of God," Jasper commented.

"God is perfect and just. If all of us got our just deserts, we would die, for no one is perfect, and God cannot accept someone who is not perfect. But what has been done in His sacrifice allows us to fall into the hands of God without the stains of our past life, and God is not only just, but loving and merciful." "

So, let's say I give God everything, what do I get?"

"You get the privilege to stand in the presence of God as his child, holy and loved beyond measure." Jonathan watched Jasper's face for a moment, then said, "You take the first watch and think." He rolled himself into a blanket.

Jasper sat and pondered. Everything. Everything. He pulled up his knees and rested his chin on them. When you give someone everything you have to give, you give them your very self. He considered similar happenings back on the plains that he knew of; debtors who could not pay back the money that had been loaned to them and so had to give up everything of value that was their's - even themselves. When you give someone yourself, you belong to them, and they can deal with you as they like; you have no rights. But when you give God everything, he makes you his child...after he gave you the ability to even approach him to give him everything. Now that I consider it, what do I have that I can truly call mine? Myself, my life, and my family; Kaia and the Breakers. But God created me and gave me life, so those are a gift from him. And God granted that my sister would be born into my family, so she is a gift from him. And then he granted me my second family after I lost my first, so they are a gift from him as well. So in the end, God gives me everything I have and gets nothing back but a willing heart, and that only if I come to Him. To me, it seems he asks so much, and yet, in truth, it's not hardly worth anything at all. But somehow, it's enough.

Jasper had stopped wearing his talisman after he became a Scout Student, but he had never put it from his person. It had ridden in a little pocket for some time, now he drew it out. 'Everything' is still hard, but I'll start here. He dropped the talisman into the fire. Slowly, as the night went on and the wind moaned its lonely way through the pines, he began to give up the hatreds and grudges he had held within him. A thing Ryan had said helped him in this. "Hatred and grudges don't die in a day, and you won't ever be completely free of them in this life. The important part is not so much getting to a place where you don't have those thoughts as it is getting to a place where you surrender those thoughts to God as soon as you have them. Giving yourself to God is a starting point, not the finish line."

It was at that moment that Jasper realized that Jonathan had only been pretending to be asleep. Jonathan now looked keenly at Jasper. "There's a deep creek down thataway," he said, meaning that he was willing to immerse Jasper on the spot if Jasper wanted him to.

Jasper hesitated. They were on a mission. The Aranara could fall on them any minute that they were not on guard. But then Jasper decided that the Lord was more important than the Aranara; if he got himself killed doing what the Lord had commanded, so be it. "Let's go."

The water in the creek was ice cold and took Jasper's breath away as Jonathan lowered him under it. When they came up out of the water, Jonathan left Jasper alone on the creek's bank, sensing his student's desire for solitude. A shining light came from the trees, and Jasper turned. The light was brighter than midday, and yet Jasper felt no need to shield his eyes. He became aware of a presence, awesome and powerful. Jasper trembled as the majestic figure emerged from the light, but he felt no terror. Instead, he looked into the figure's deep, ageless eyes, his heart throbbing with alternate joy and fear. The figure stepped forwards and laid his hands on Jasper's shoulders. Jasper stood and shook, his blood flying through his veins many times faster than it should have. "Be still," said the figure gently. Jasper shivered once more in response to the figures deep, unearthly voice, then stood still. "Tell me your heart," the Lord said, beginning to walk.

"I daresay You know it better than I myself, Lord," said Jasper, naturally falling into step beside Him.

The Lord smiled. "I know everything, Jasper, but that does not mean that I do not enjoy it when My children talk to Me about what they think and feel."

Jasper's mind was blank for a time, but then a question he had wanted to ask for a long time came to him. "Why did my parents die? Why couldn't we have just stayed the happy family that we were?" Emotion poured into him at a rate he would not have thought possible, and tears started pouring down his cheeks like a spring thaw. In front of anyone else, he would have been embaressed to be crying so hard, but here, it seemed natural to let emotions surface and play themselves out, since there was a tangible sense of not being able to hide them.

"I have a plan for you, Jasper, and it involves you being here, in the mountains. If your parents had not died in the plague, you would have been brought here a different way; a way that would have been far more painful."

"What would have happened?" The Lord reached up and wiped the tears from Jasper's face.

"It is not for you to know what would of happened, for that knowledge would only hurt you. What did happen is far more important."

"Is that why I was adopted into the Johnson family and engaged," Jasper flinched at the memory, "to Misty? So that I would run away?"

"One of the reasons, and the only reason you are to know for now."

"Why can't I know the other reasons?" Jasper burst out.

"Because they will be revealed in due time, and it is not a good idea to rush such things. At this time, you are not yet ready to accept the other reasons."

They walked a little further, then sat down near a small cataract. "Will I ever see my sister again?" Jasper asked.

"You will."

"I was so angry, being separated from her like that. I never thought of myself as an angry person, but I was angry. Angry at the people who took my sister from me, angry at Misty for treating me like she did, angry at the Johnsons for pledging her to me with no regard to how I felt. Did...did all of those things have a reason?"

"Nothing that happens happens for no reason. The reason may be quite small, but there is still a reason."

The longer they spoke, the more words poured out of Jasper. It was as if his heart had become a book that lay open on the rocks for them to read. He did not know how long they stayed there; time seemed not to exist when the Lord was present.

At last, the Lord rose to leave. "Will I see you again?" asked Jasper wistfully, looking up at him and feeling like a time of joy and healing was drawing to a close.

The Lord looked at him gently and placed His hands on his shoulders. "Yes, you will. But, until then, always remember: No matter where you are, I can always hear and see you. Read the Words that I left with you, talk to Me, and I shall be with you, always, even at the very ends of the world." Turning, He melted away into the trees.

Jasper returned softly to camp. Jonathan lay on his back, breathing quietly. Jasper lay down on the other side of the fire, curled into his cloak and a wool blanket, and fell asleep.

Translated From Sarconian Scout

Jasper had thought that he knew what great amounts of mud had looked like, but know he realized that he hadn't.  The squelching sound that the two unicorn's hooves made in it became familiar, and Jonathan and Jasper tuned them out, now alert to the other sounds around them.  They soon came upon the tracks of a raiding party.  

"They're headed for Black Bow Scout Station," said Jonathan.   The boys rose from where they had looked at the tracks, jumped into the saddle, and galloped to help defend the station. 

The station appeared to be locked down as they came in sight of it, the porch railing barricaded with tables, hay bales, and logs and shutters clamped over the windows.  A few dead raiders lay on the steps and over the railing.  No smoke rose from the chimney; the fire had been put out so that the Aranara would not be able to smoke out the people who had taken refuge in the sturdy log station.  Already there was a fierce exchange of arrows as the Aranara sought to overwhelm the station.  Arrows hissed from small slits in the shutters, most of them finding their targets.  Jasper glanced at Jonathan, wondering what they would do.  A dash to the house would be suicide, he knew, or at least so he thought.  Jasper didn't know what Jonathan was thinking about doing.

"We'll leave the unicorns here," said Jonathan.  He dismounted and grabbed his saddlebags, slinging them over one shoulder.  Jasper followed his mentor's lead, wondering that this was coming to.  They moved silently through the forest to a clump of trees, which they climbed.  Once they were in position, they started shooting at the Aranara who were trying to approach the house.  Arrows came in their direction in return but the boys ignored them, trusting their mud-stained cloaks to hide them, at least to an extent. 

Slowly, the raiding party retreated, drawing back beyond bow-shot and into the trees.  Jonathan and Jasper went back to their unicorns and rode swiftly towards the station, not knowing when the Aranara would return. When they got to the station, they put the unicorns in the stable and knocked on the arrow-pierced door.  Once Jonathan had identified himself, they were allowed in to the gloomy interior of the station.

Like most Scout Stations, the front door of Black Bow Station led into the main room.  Most of the time, there were tables and chairs and a store counter, behind which were supplies and weapons.  Inside Black Bow however, the tables had been pushed back and the chairs were stacked on top of each other.  There was blood on the floor from those who had been shot when arrows would come into the station through the arrow-slits in the shutters.  One Scout was dead, and five others were wounded.  Jonathan and Jasper went to empty places next to a window and carefully used a small mirror to look outside.  The Aranara were coming back, and they had reinforcements. 

This battle was much more intense than the first.  The sun began to go down, and the fighting did not terminate.  The Aranara made their camp just out of bowshot and watched the station from afar, blocking in the defenders.  The people inside the station conferred with each other and decided to try a night raid.  Before Jasper could even figure out how he had been chosen to be on the raiding party, he was slipping out of the door with four other Scouts and creeping up on the sleeping Aranara. 

They hit hard and fast in the darkness, slipping away before the raiders could gather themselves, regrouping in the forest, and striking again. There were more Aranara than they had reckoned on, and they did not creep back to the station until almost dawn.  The station-master's wife gave them food to eat, and Jasper went back to his post by the window with Jonathan.

Jonathan glanced over at Jasper.  "You did well last night."

"Did I?" asked Jasper shyly.

"You did," said Jonathan.  "You can move very quietly for one so inexperienced."

"Well," said Jasper, "I think that one moves quieter when they know their life depends on it."

"You are quite right," said Jonathan, smiling grimly. 

The fracas continued all day and into the night before the Aranara finally gave up.  The station was madness during that time.  Jasper got a small cut on his cheek when an arrow came though his slit and grazed him, but otherwise he was unharmed.  When the skirmish was finally over,  Jasper wrapped himself in his blanket and half-fell to the floor, fast asleep before he had even stretched out. 

Jonathan awakened him a few hours later.  "Come on, Jasper.  We've got to trail these villains and make sure that they don't catch anyone else by surprise."

 

Jasper slogged along the trail next to Thunder, skimming the tracks one moment and the edge of the road the next.  His eyes were rarely still, but they felt heavy, like there were rocks on them.  He staggered, caught himself, and went on a few more paces before he went to sleep on his feet and fell full-length in the mud of the trail.   This woke him up quite abruptly.

"Four days of tracking can take alot out of you, Jasi," said Jonathan.  "It'll get easier after a while, though."

"Uhhhh,"Jasper moaned, rolling over.  "They'll never see us coming, Thane," he said dryly.

"Of course not,' said Jonathan.  "We blend in with the mud too well.  We'll just hunker down under our cloaks and pretend that we're rocks."

It would work, Jasper realized, as their cloaks were spattered with mud.  He found a tolerably clean place on the cloak, wiped the mud from his face, and plodded along next to Jonathan.  They and the other Scouts were tracking and harassing the Aranara raiding parties, who had at last come into one large group for safety.  They were headed back towards Aranar now, tired of the night raids and constant presence of the Scouts.  They reached the border that night.  The Aranara vanished into their own country, and the Scouts camped together - a group fifteen strong.  Jonathan and Jasper finished their duties the next day and returned to the north, proceeding to White Rocks Scout Station.

When Jonathan pointed out White Rocks Scout Station, Jasper was stunned.  It looked like little more than a huge heap of  enormous white rocks.  They rode up into it, dismounted, and entered a cave.  It was then that Jasper realized that the entire station was underground.  They rode down a tunnel and were met by the station master's daughter who promptly flung up her hands at their appearance.  As a station master's daughter, however, she had seen far more gruesome things than two boys covered in mud and quickly took control of the situation, sending them off to the bath-house to wash off the layers of mud and change into clean clothes, telling them that if they tossed their muddy clothes outside the room, she would pick them up and see that they were washed.  Even Jonathan, who was used to a rough life, was dirtier than he was used to feeling at the end of a week; Jasper was dirtier than he had ever felt in is life, and so neither of them was inclined to argue over the subject of bathing.

They emerged from the bath-house half-an-hour later, scrubbed from head to toe and dressed in clean clothes.  Jasper's overall opinion of station-master's wives was that they behaved very much like mothers.  This opinion was bolstered by the fluttering station-mistress at White Rocks who would not let either boy sit down to eat until she had assured herself that they had washed behind their ears. 

The chicken casserole (the first hot food that they'd had in days) was beyond wonderful in their eyes.  The station-master's daughter served them as much as they wanted and loyally kept their mugs filled with cool lemonade.  Jonathan's eyes followed the girl almost non-stop.  

Jasper, eating in silence, watched the change that crept over his mentor with amusement.  The station-master's daughter moved easily about the room, tending to the needs of the various persons there, but she could obviously feel Jonathan's eyes on her and turned away from her tasks every now and then to look over at him.  Whenever she did this, Jonathan would look as if his attention was occupied elsewhere, but as soon as she looked away, he would resume watching her.  Then it happened - Jonathan didn't look away fast enough, and their eyes met.  Jasper stifled a laugh and choked on his food, for Jonathan's ears were turning red.  The girl's eyes sparkled with silent laughter for a moment, then she turned away and continued in her duties.

 

That night, Jasper realized that Jonathan was not in the room.  Soft voices drifted from the hallway.

"Why did you blush, Thane?  The way my mother gossips, everyone who's gone through the station since your last visit knows that we are exchanging letters, and you are seeing me whenever you can."

"I suppose so, Justyne, but  you know that this is a little awkward."

A laugh.  "Awkward, Jonathan?  How?"

"Well, I hardly ever see you."  Jasper sat up in surprise at the tone of Jonathan's voice.  It was almost agonized.  "I'm only around here once a month at the most.  It's not a proper courtship."

"Tush, Thane," said Justyne.  "I'm a station-master's daughter.  This is as good as courtship gets for me."  The tone of her voice changed.  "I...I suppose you'll be leaving tomorrow?"

"No," said Jonathan.  "This is Jasper's first mission, and he's exhausted.  And you're...here...obviously.  Those are reasons enough for me to stick around for a few days."

Justyne laughed again and said goodnight to Jonathan.  Jasper quickly lay down and pretended to be asleep as Jonathan stepped back into the room.

"Possum," Jonathan whispered in Jasper's ear, swinging up head level with the top bunk.

Jasper opened one eye and grinned.  "You could do worse," he said, referring to Jonathan's budding courtship.

Jonathan playfully pulled a fistful of Jasper's hair, then dropped back to the lower bunk with a  happy sigh.

 

Translated From Sarconian Scout

Jasper was going to his first class the next day when he was stopped in the hall by a page.  "The Council has sent for you," said the page.

Jasper didn't know what to think as he followed the boy out of Scout Headquarters, across the gardens and into the palace.  Being sent for by the Council either meant something very good or very bad for a student.  He entered the huge doors, stopped in the center of the mosaic map on the floor, and bowed towards the empty thrones that stood right across from the doors in respect for the absent king and queen. 

"Jasper Watson," said one of the  council members in a deep voice,  "Jonathan Carzim spoke to us about your conduct during the exercise yesterday."

Jasper shifted his feet nervously.

"Jonathan said that you kept your head through the entire situation.  The others who witnessed it agree that you showed a high level of conduct."

There was more to this than the council's approval of his actions, Jasper knew, but he wasn't sure where it was going.  "Thank you sir," he said, not sure how to respond.

"Because of this, we believe that you are ready to enter your Junior Scouthood."

Jasper's eyes grew wide, and he barely kept his jaw from dropping.

"You have been doing well in your classes, and we believe that you are ready for practical application of what you have learned.  Finish your classes today and meet Jonathan Carzim in the south courtyard at four 0'clock.  Jonathan will be your tutor and he will prepare you for your first real mission with him during the next few days."

Jasper was having difficulty putting even two words together. "South courtyard, four o'clock," he managed to repeat, trying to get his vocabulary back.  "I'll be there.  Thank you."

"Godspeed," the council member said, signaling that the brief meeting was over.

Jasper bowed towards the thrones once again, turned, and left, heart pounding and ears ringing, not certain whether to be excited or terrified. 

 

"Are you alright?" Jonathan asked Jasper when he appeared in the south courtyard.

Jasper blinked.  "What do you mean?"

"You look like you just got a blow over the head that didn't quite knock you out and stunned you instead."

"Well," said Jasper, "I wasn't exactly expecting this."

"It generally comes as a surprise to everyone, because the time is different for everyone.  Our first mission starts in three days, so you have that long to decide whether or not this is what you want to do and get ready."

When he returned home that evening, Jasper did not go directly to the farmhouse after he put Thunder up in the stable.  Instead, he walked a short ways into the woods and sat down under a tree beside a creek.  He had much to think about.  It was almost two years since he had come to the mountains.  He was fifteen now and had come to consider himself a Sarconian.   He wanted to pursue becoming a Scout, but there was another part of him that wanted to go back to the plains and find his sister.

Sister.  Kaia.  A ghost of another life.  A year ago he would have gone  back to her, but he was too far removed now.  Her tug on his heart was almost non-existent and easily brushed aside.  Jasper fingered the ruby studded ring that he wore on a chain around his neck; now his only tangible link to the plains.  The promise that went with the ring, the promise that he had made to release Misty for her engagement to him when he was old enough, wasn't due for another two years.  Kaia's memory vanished from his mind, and Jasper was decided.  He would pursue his training as a Scout.  He got up and went back to the brightly lit farmhouse.

 

Jasper left Sarconia City in the predawn darkness, riding silently at Jonathan's side.  Both were dressed in forest green and leather, the garb of all Scouts.  Jonathan's cowl hid his face in its shadowy green depths, and Jasper's face was hidden much the same way.  They were headed for Underwood Scout Station where they would make contact with the Scout they were replacing and get information on what had developed during the past week or so.

They reached Underwood Scout Station at sunset.  Jasper gazed around in delight.  The Scout Stations were havens for the Scouts, and Underwood was unique in its design.  The stables were built into a small hill, but the rest of the station was a series of connected tree houses.  Jonathan and Jasper took their unicorns to the stables, then entered the trunk of one of the huge trees, climbing the spiral staircase that led through a trapdoor into the main room. 

The room was softly lit with lanterns that hung from the ceiling.  All the windows were open, and branches stuck their leafy boughs though them, providing natural canopies for the tables that sat bolted to the floor.  There were benches by the tables instead of chairs, and these were also bolted to the floor.  As a matter of fact, everything was bolted down except for the wooden dishes on the tables, and they were set into dents to keep them from sliding around.    The whole room swayed gently with the motion of the tree.  Jasper walked carefully, watching out for the swinging lanterns.

"Jonathan!" The station master's wife called.  "I see you have a new student."

Jonathan smiled.  "Yes, I do.  This is Jasper Watson."

The station master's wife fluttered over both boys for a short time, patting them on the head (though she had to stand on tiptoe to do so) and scolding gently as she led them over to a table.  The woman vanished for a moment, then reappeared, somehow balancing two wooden bowls of thick venison stew and mugs of hot cider which she placed in front of them.  Finishing off her motherly duties by giving Jasper a peck on the top of his head, the woman began bustling around the room again.

"Is she always like this?" Jasper asked Jonathan in an undertone.

Jonathan nodded.  "She sees every Scout in the Order as one of her children and treats them as such."

At this moment, Joshuel came up through the trapdoor.  The station master's wife descended on him, calling his name, patting his shoulder and scolding him for not combing his hair.  Joshuel promised to comb his hair at the next opportunity, then spotted Jonathan and Jasper and came over to them.

"How is it going?" Jonathan asked his brother.

"Not much is going on," Joshuel replied.  "An Aranaran scout here and there, but no real movement or raids."  Joshuel leaned back slightly as the station master's wife set a bowl of stew and some cider in front of him.

"Hmm..." said Jonathan thoughtfully.   "That probably means that - "  He looked at Jasper to finish the sentence.

"They're getting ready for another series of raids?"  Jasper finished cautiously.

Jonathan nodded.  "Or one big raid.  Either way, we'd better stay on our toes."  Jonathan sipped at his cider, grimacing as it burned his tongue.

Jasper, forewarned, blew on the surface of his cider a few times before carefully tasting it.  Joshuel lifted his eyebrows at Jonathan and Jonathan nodded, ever so slightly, in reply.  Jasper, without knowing it, had passed a small test.  Jonathan had burned his tongue on purpose to see if Jasper would notice and not make the same 'mistake'.

They started eating.  Jonathan and Joshuel continued making signals to each other, carrying on a conversation all their own without Jasper's knowledge.

Joshuel, with the excuse of scratching his scalp, inclined his head towards Jonathan.  You have a way of reading people easily.  I never would have picked him out this quickly.

Jonathan spread a hand, looking at his fingernails.  We will see how well I have read him.  He looked at his palm, then the back of his hand.  Mock missions and real missions are two different things.

Joshuel tugged at his ear.  Perhaps so.  He lifted his eyebrows and cocked his head.  What about The Incident?

Jonathan leaned on the table.  Why do you think I chose him?  He bit at his fingernails.  But I am worried about this mission.

Joshuel looked into his stew and put one finger on his chin.  Because it is his first?  He dropped his hand to the table somewhat heavily.  And not exactly easy? 

Jonathan flicked his fingers as if he were flicking water at someone.  Exactly.

Joshuel spun his mug slowly.  He'll make it.  Reaching up, he rubbed his temple.  He's got brains.

Jonathan stuck a bite of stew in his mouth.  "Mmh."  He certainly does.

Jasper, not noticing anything special about the gestures passing between his mentor and his mentor's brother, wondered what he would be expected to do on the mission.  He didn't think that he knew that much, and the entire task was daunting to him.  He wondered how Jonathan felt.  Is he just as nervous?  Jasper doubted that.

Jonathan lifted his spoon in front of his face and watched the steam drifting up from it.  Life as a Scout was so unpredictable.  He didn't know what would turn up next, and with an inexperienced student with him, he wasn't entirely happy about where he was being placed.  But you simply didn't argue with the Council over that.  They believed in Jasper, and Jonathan knew that he must believe in Jasper as well if the boy was to believe in himself.  Still, Jonathan wished that they had an easier assignment.

 

The bedroom swayed slightly, causing Jasper to stumble as he headed towards the bunk bed.  Jonathan moved much more comfortably; only the bigger heaves threw him off balance.  The wind was picking up - they both could feel it.  Jasper scrambled onto the top bunk, grateful for the handholds on the wall.

Jonathan looked up at him.  "There should be some heavy netting hooked on the ceiling.  Pull it down and hook it onto the bunk.  With the wind like it is, this room will start tossing, and I've been flung on the floor before.  It's not very pleasant."

Jasper nodded and grabbed the net, pulling it down.  There were several hooks, and he stretched the net to meet them.  On the lower bunk, Jonathan was doing the same thing.  The lamp flickered out at a gust of breath from Jonathan, and the room was dark, save for the moonlight.

Jasper was awakened that morning when the tree-house heaved in the wind, throwing him against the netting, then slamming him into the wall.  Below him, Jonathan tumbled out onto the floor, flopping like a fish deprived of the water in which it swims.  Jasper half-fell-half-climbed off the top bunk and managed, with much rolling around and grunting, to get his boots on.  After falling into the wall and each other a few times, Jonathan and Jasper got the door open and ventured out onto the bouncing suspension bridge that connected them to the main room.  Clinging to the rope railings, they made it across, hearts pounding.

The main room was more stable, but they still had some difficulty eating because of 'tree-sickness', as one slightly green Scout termed it, and the fact that the dishes were always trying to slide of the table.

Joshuel was already there, getting scolded once more for the unkept appearance of his hair which he finger-combed.  Jasper chased his oatmeal to the other side of the table and managed to get a spoonful before the bowl started to slide away again.    It was no time for being shy, considering the fact that everyone was falling all over the room.  Jasper's feet somehow got out from under him, and he was on the floor before he knew it, getting tangled up with another Scout that he didn't know.  They apologized to each other and were starting to get up when another Scout came rolling across the floor and crashed into them, creating a confused mass of arms, legs, and laughter.  Jasper heard Jonathan's voice dryly tell Joshuel, "You're getting too old to sit in my lap, little bro," and looked up to see that Jonathan had somehow retained his seat on the bench, although Joshuel had been slung across the room by a gust of wind and was now sitting on him. Grabbing the edge of the table, Jasper scrambled onto the bench next to his mentor and managed to get his bowl of oatmeal under control and finish eating it before he was once again thrown across the room.

After much tumbling about and stepping on people's toes, Jonathan and Jasper managed to get to the trapdoor.  They descended carefully down the slightly swaying spiral staircase and entered out into the driving wind.  The boys wrapped themselves more tightly in their cloaks and bowed their heads against the wind as they trudged to the stables.  The wind abruptly cut off as the entered the warm, hay-filled dugout.   Their unicorns, Syliva and Thunder, trotted from their stalls, nickering to their masters.  Jasper rubbed Thunder's nose.  "It's pretty wild out there," he said softly.

Thunder shook his mane without concern and nipped at Jasper's collar.  From the beginning of their relationship, Thunder had showed his affection for Jasper by gently nipping the boy's collar.  Jasper smiled as the unicorn snuffled against his neck, warming it.  He threw a saddle over the unicorn's back and tightened the straps, then added the fully packed saddlebags.  He and Jonathan led their unicorns from the stables into the wind and mounted, riding south.

 

The rain set in half an hour after they set out.  It sheeted down violently, soaking them through, and the thunder crashed and rolled off the mountainsides around them, drowning out all other sounds.  Jasper glanced around, feeling vulnerable and nervous.  Jonathan looked like he was trying to see everything at once.  The young mentor's lips were set in a thin line.  What a way to start the week, Jonathan thought.  The Aranara possibly on the move, a rainstorm drowning out most sounds and lowering visibility, and an inexperienced student by my side to look after.  He shook his head slightly.  Jasper was a promising student, but he didn't have field experience.  Jonathan had a very bad feeling about this.

"EEEEAK!!  Ong gong ksssssss....."  The bushes snapped back, and a kryser appeared, wailing and hissing at them.  The unicorns reared frantically as the boys fought to stay seated.  Jasper's mouth was dry, and Jonathan saw that the boy's eyes were wide with horror.  Jonathan remembered Melissa's reaction to her first sight of a kryser and fervently hoped that Jasper would keep his head better than Melissa had. 

Jasper was shaking, for he knew that only an archer could fight a kryser, and his bowstring was wet, as was Jonathan's.  The wind would have done a great deal to render their shooting useless even if their bows were in action.  It, Jasper thought, was hopeless.  Thunder neighed and reared again as the spider lunged at them.  Jasper, compelled by his sixth sense, flung himself from the saddle.  Thunder raced away for a short time, but stopped while still in sight.  Jasper dodged the spider's attack, wondering how long his trembling legs would support him.  Jonathan had also leaped from his saddle.  The boys dodged and rolled, and finally Jonathan managed to leap on top of the kryser, clinging to the matted hair as the spider shrieked and plunged about.  Jasper, though he knew the attempt was useless save for diversion, drew his sword and struck the spider on the leg.  Forgetting Jonathan, the kryser turned its attention to Jasper.  The boy trembled, terrified as he danced about, raining ineffectual blows in a desperate attempt to give Jonathan time to carry out his plan.  At least, Jasper thought that Jonathan had a plan.

Jonathan did have a plan.  While Jasper distracted the spider, he shifted his position, drawing his sword as he did so.  Jonathan wished that he could use his hunting knife for this job, but he wanted to penetrate to the creature's brain and did not dare take the risk of using a shorter blade.  Gritting his teeth, he plunged the sword into the kryser's eye and leaped free of the over-sized arachnid as it screamed wildly.  Slowly, the legs folded and the beast sunk to the ground, dead.

Jonathan, who had slipped on wet ferns and fallen to the ground as he landed, looked up for a moment, then dropped his face against the ground, trying to stop shaking.  No matter how many times he saw the spiders, no matter how many times he fought them, he was still unnerved by their size and ferocity.  Jasper was half-curled on the ground, hands over his ears to shut out the creature's dying screams, trying to get a hold on himself.  Jonathan climbed to his feet and went over to Jasper, laying a hand on the other boy.  "You okay?" he asked, trying to make his voice firm and confident.

Jasper uncurled.  "I think so.  That thing is the stuff of nightmares!"

Jonathan helped him to his feet.  "No kidding.  At least they're not invincible."

"Yeah," said Jasper, watching Jonathan retrieve his sword.  Thunder trotted back to his side, and Jasper stroked the unicorn's neck, calming himself.  Edging carefully towards him, Thunder used the tip of his horn to shove a wet strand of hair off Jasper's face.  Jasper did not flinch as the sharp horn brushed him, long since accustomed to its touch.

They mushed through the mud all day, splattering themselves from the knees down with the muck when they walked.  Jasper's boots sucked against the mud.  He glanced uncomfortably behind him.  Their footprints were clear impressions in the ground that were slowing filling with rain water.  "Jonathan, we're not exactly hiding our trail very well," he said softly.

Rain water trickled down Jonathan's face from his hair as he turned to Jasper.  "There's no way to hide the trail unless the rain washes the tracks away.  If we're discovered, we're discovered."

Jasper turned back to look at their back trail.  "Aranara?"

"Yeah."

"Thane?"  Jasper addressed Jonathan by his nickname, "Why do the Aranara hate us?"

"They want the land," said Jonathan.

"Do they not have enough land for themselves?"

Jonathan shook his head.  "They have a kingdom that is a big as the Corvanie empire.  But they still want more land."

Jasper shook his head, not certain what to say.  He was not a simple person, but he had very simple wants.  Like being dry, he thought, shrugging his shoulders against his sodden clothing.  He wasn't exactly certain that he entirely understood why a people with a kingdom so huge would want more land and subjects.  Perhaps, he decided, There is some kind of competition between the kings as to who have the biggest and wealthiest kingdoms.  Competition was something he understood.  There were running competitions at Scout Headquarters as to who was the best at various arts.  Jasper, young though he was, was coming quite close to being recognized as one of the top swordsmen there.  It was a position that he had to fight for and defend, though in a friendly way.   He now voiced his thought on the competition between kingdoms to Jonathan.

Jonathan shrugged at the idea.  "May not be so far from the truth," he said.  "Arnia, or Aranar as the people who live there call it, could be wealthy, but it's poorly managed.  I guess they have to make up for their poor showing of wealth with a big showing of land and aggression.  Either way, they like nothing better than harassing us."

They made their camp in a cave.  The unicorns were to one side, huddled together and much happier now that they had been rubbed down by their loyal masters.  Jasper watched the rain water running over the entrance of the cave for a moment as he set down some firewood in the fire pit that had been dug.  A supply of wood was always kept in the cave against rainy weather.  After a few strikes with his flint and steel, Jasper had the fire started.  He and Jonathan, drenched, huddled close to it, trying to get warm.  They had laid their thick cloaks aside, and their thinner clothes did not take too long to dry.  They ate a stew that they had mixed from jerky and dried herbs.  There was a supply of forage for the unicorns, and the animals gladly partook in it.

Jasper liked the footing that he and Jonathan were on.  The two boys were comfortable around each other.  Jonathan would frequently call Jasper 'Jasi', and, just as frequently, Jasper would call Jonathan 'Thane'.  They waited for the cloaks to dry before they went to bed.  Jonathan had cut several pine branches while Jasper started the fire, and they were now dry.  The boys laid the branches in a pile, spread blankets over them, and curled up under their cloaks and more blankets, sleeping back-to-back for warmth.  Jasper never ceased to  be amazed at how much warmer he was when he slept back-to-back with someone.  It was a basic survival technique that was taught early on in Scout training and it was used frequently. 

Jasper dropped off quickly.  The smell of evergreen was soothing and familiar to him, along with the scent of woodsmoke.  Jack, with whom Jasper had been sharing the corn-husk mattress in the attic for almost two years, was a wild sleeper who talked, snored and kicked Jasper out of the bed without ever waking up himself.  Jasper had gotten to the point where he could sleep through nearly anything.  Jonathan, on the other hand, slept like a log, perhaps moving once or twice during the night, so he could hardly keep Jasper awake.

 

Jasper awoke the next morning feeling uneasy.  Jonathan too was jittery, often looking towards the entrance of the cave and muttering to himself.  As they packed up camp, Jasper's eye caught a movement and he swiftly knocked an arrow and pulled it to half-draw, yelling an incoherent warning to Jonathan.  Jonathan sprang to his feet, bow in hand, as the Aranara emerged from the forest and ducked into cover.  Jasper quickly sought his own cover - a rock outcropping that he, on instruction from Jonathan, had chosen the night before - remaining on the open for no more than a few seconds.  His eyes probed the bushes, searching for a target.  Jonathan had also taken cover, and he had already shot down two of the Aranara.  Jasper saw a raider rise for a moment and dash to another spot of cover behind a bush.  Pulling back his arrow, he sighted down the shaft and launched it into the bush.  It struck home and the man collapsed.

The Aranara crept closer, using the brush and the dead bodies of their comrades as shields.  Jonathan picked them off methodically, and Jasper helped his mentor where he could, although he did not yet have Jonathan's keen sight and steady hand.  The skirmish was short, fierce, and quickly came to hand-to-hand combat.  As the raiders came closer, Jasper smoothly slung his bow over his shoulders and grabbed his sword, feeling more confident.  This was the kind of combat he preferred - blade to blade, skill against skill, no sulking behind trees and bushes, no wondering whether his target would move before he could hit it with an arrow, just clean and fast movement.  Deft and relaxed, Jasper faced his opponents coolly as he raised the tip of his sword, then swung at the raiders.  None stood before his blade. 

The fight did not last long after Jasper got his sword out.  He turned as the dust settled and saw that Jonathan had taken a prisoner, a boy who did not look much past fifteen or sixteen.  He cowered away from the two Scouts, whimpering and begging for mercy in an obscure tribal tongue that Jasper, to his shock, recognized.

"SyDow?" Jasper asked quickly.

The boy looked up at him.  "Da," he said shakily, meaning 'yes'.

"Do you speak the common tongue?" asked Jonathan.

The boy made no answer, only looked quite confused.

"Apparently not," said Jonathan.  "How much of the SyDow language do you remember, Jasper?"

"Enough to communicate fluently," Jasper replied.

"Good," said Jonathan.  "If you could translate...Is this the only raiding party sent into the north Sarcos?"

Jasper relayed the question to the boy.  "Zen," the boy replied.

Jasper looked at Jonathan.  "No."

"As I thought," said Jonathan.  "How many were sent?

The boy shrugged as Jasper translated the question and replied that he did not know the exact number, only that there were many raiders.

Jonathan nodded.  "Alright then."  He asked a few more questions, but the boy knew little.  Jonathan finally ended his inquiry.  "Go now," he told the boy gently.  The boy hesitated, then fled.

Jasper knew that he, if he were in Jonathan's place, would have let the boy go, but he still had to ask, "If he tells them about us?"

Jonathan shrugged.  "They won't know anything they don't know already, really."

 

Translated From Sarconian Scout

After Alethea left, Jasper continued to find himself to be very busy.  Jack and Melissa were settled down at the Breaker Ranch, and Jasper would often help them with the unicorns they raised.  He loved working with the intelligent animals, and Jack enjoyed having him around.  Jack watched his friend as he worked with the thoroughbreds.  Jasper had a knack for handling the proud, touchy unicorns, and all of the creatures seemed to like him to an extent.  But there was one... Jack scanned the corral again, looking for the tall gray unicorn that he had picked out earlier as having a marked liking for Jasper.  There he was, nipping at Jasper's collar again.

Jasper sighed impatiently.  Thunder had been following him around all morning, nipping him gently, nudging him and pawing him.  "Thunder," he groaned, "quit it."

Thunder butted his head against Jasper, nickering, as Jasper left the corral.

Jack watched as Jasper rode away, then turned his attention to Thunder.  The unicorn was standing at the edge of the corral, his ears pricked forward.  Thunder whistled loudly and plaintively, rearing.  At last he trotted over to Jack, nosing the boy and whimpering. Jack scratched the unicorn behind his ears.  "What is it?" he asked.

Thunder looked toward the horizon over which Jasper had vanished and whinnied loudly.

Jack patted his neck.  "Alright then," he said, opening the gate and letting Thunder out.  "Go find him."

Thunder galloped off.  Jack watched him as he faded quickly into the distance.  Thoroughbred unicorns were believed to be as intelligent as humans and almost always picked their own master or mistress.  Once the choice was made, unicorn and rider would stay together for all of their lives, though the unicorns usually out-lived their riders.

 

Harried shouts and neighing drifted towards Jasper as he moved through the halls.  He ran out onto the steps with several other people to see the cause of the ruckus; six Scouts and a unicorn he recognized as Thunder.  The animal reared and neighed wildly.  The Scouts drew back from his flailing hooves, circling and trying to grab the halter.

Jasper pressed his way to the front of the crowd.  "Let me try," he said.  "He knows me."

One of the Scouts turned.   "He knows you?"

"Yes," said Jasper.  "I've been helping care for him for the the past several weeks."

"Alright then.  But be careful, he's very upset."

Jasper nodded, then, moving slowly, approached the unicorn, hand held out.  "What's wrong, Thunder?" he asked softly.  It was all Jasper could do to maintain a steady tone of voice. Thunder's muscles were bunched, and the whites of his eyes showed.  "Here now," Jasper crooned, "you know me.  I'm not going to hurt you."

Thunder's muscles began to relax, and the whites of his eyes vanished.

"There now," Jasper said, letting the unicorn smell his hand.  Slowly, carefully, he took the halter.  "Now then, what got you so upset?" he asked, stroking the creature's muzzle.

Thunder was standing quietly now, swishing his tail.  He nuzzled his head against Jasper, making contented sounds.

"Right then," said Jasper as a Scout came to his elbow.  "He's okay now."  As he handed off the lead rope, Thunder began rearing again.  Once more, only Jasper could quiet him.  "What's wrong?"  Jasper asked the Scout.

The Scout thought for a moment, then said, "Actually, it's very likely that there is nothing wrong.  Have you ever tried to ride him, Jasper?"

"Ride him?" Jasper gasped.  "He's a thoroughbred!  He'd kill me if I tried to ride him without his permission!"

The Scout shook his head.  "I don't think so." 

Thunder was nipping at Jasper's collar again, butting him with increasing impatience.  Jasper turned and looked into the unicorn's liquid brown eyes, hesitating.

"Go on," the Scout urged.  "I don't think he'll harm you."

Jasper untied the lead rope, coiled it, and hung it on a nail that protruded out from the stables.  He hesitated once again, then vaulted onto Thunder's back.  The unicorn stood, ears pricked.  Jasper touched him lightly with his heels, and Thunder sprang away, tearing through back alleys and deserted streets at high speed.  They stopped at the edge of town.  Thunder reared, then galloped on to the lake, racing through the shallows and sending water flying up on either side of them like wings.  Then Thunder turned and galloped across the valley, the wind drying Jasper's wet clothing.  Jasper reluctantly turned the unicorn back toward Sarconia City, knowing that he could not be late for his next class.

 

Now that Jasper was forming a bond with Thunder and the wild storms of winter were drawing to an end, he began to go on mock missions.  The students would go in groups of two or three, tracking  and sometimes clashing with a group of Scouts posing as Aranara.    Jasper loved these expeditions; they challenged him to the utmost of his skill, and now he stood in the courtyard with Lar and a girl named Nyssa, getting directions from an instructor.  "A party of Aranara have penetrated far north.  Your job is to track them and find out their intentions.  Do not attack them unless you absolutely must.  Have you got that?"

The three nodded.  

"Jasper," the instructor continued, "You are in charge.  You make the final decisions, so you are responsible for whatever happens."

Jasper nodded.  "Yes, sir."  He felt excited and nervous.  These exercises were his favorite part of training, but this was the first time he had ever been put in charge of an expedition.

"Ride south," said the instructor.  "You'll come upon their trail about here."  He pointed to a place on a map.  "There'll be a Scout waiting for you to give you any information you may need.  Any questions?"

Jasper, Nyssa and Lar were silent.

"Very well.  Godspeed."

They mounted their unicorns and rode south.

Jasper moved easily with the gait of his big gray unicorn, Thunder.  Unicorn and rider understood each other very well, and Jasper had never once fallen off the big animal.  Jumped off, yes, but fallen off, never.  Once he was on Thunder's back, the unicorn saw to it that he stayed there.  Nyssa rode to his left.  She was at the top of the unarmed combat class, and known for her impatience. Her white unicorn was smaller than Thunder, but kept up easily with the bigger unicorn.  And then there was Lar.  Jasper was very happy to have Lar along, for the tall boy had become a deadly archer. His unicorn was as black as his hair, and he moved almost effortlessly with it.

They were keeping a fast pace, and found the waiting Scout in the first hour.

"That way," said the Scout, pointing west.  "There's thirteen of them, and they're well armed.  Be careful."

The three students nodded and picked up the trail.  For a while, it was fairly clear, and they followed it easily, Jasper leaning down from his saddle to examine the tracks.  Nyssa and Lar rode behind him and a little to each side, making sure that no tracks led away from the party.  After a while, the trail began to get dimmer.  Jasper dismounted to see the tracks better.  They came to a stream.  The 'Aranara' had gone across it, and the tracks did not pick up exactly on the other side. 

"They may still be on this side," said Lar.

Jasper nodded in agreement.  The party could have walked down a ways and gotten out on the same side as they entered.  But they could have also gotten out on the other side.  "We'll split up,"  he said.  "Lar, you and Nyssa go that way, one on each side of the stream.  It's wider down there.  I'll ride Thunder down this way; it's narrower, and I can keep an eye one both banks.  Everyone can imitate a wild turkey, right?  Okay, if any of us finds the trail, gobble three times in a row.  Hopefully no turkeys are around to fool us.  Owl imitations are easier, but it's still daytime."

They moved off in their respective directions.  Jasper and Thunder splashed slowly down the stream.  Jasper would have been more concerned about the noise, but the tracks were a few hours old, and he knew the 'Aranara' wouldn't be able to hear him.  A few minutes later, three gobbles interrupted his scanning of the bank.  He rode back the other way and found Lar kneeling next to some tracks.

"They went this way," the boy said.

Jasper looked at the tracks.  "I'm not sure I recognize that print," he said, pointing.

Lar nodded.  "No.  That one came from this way, see, through here.  A scout, perhaps?"

"Why hasn't he been with them, though?" Jasper asked.

Lar shrugged.  "Maybe he's stayed a little away from the main party the entire time."

Jasper examined the tracks again.  "It's just...they don't quite look like the ones we've been following.  Besides, don't you think the Scout we met would have known about this new person and told us?"

"Are you suggesting that this might be an actual raiding party?" Nyssa demanded.

"Well....I have a hunch that it might be," said Jasper slowly, not entirely sure of himself.

"We would have been warned already," said Nyssa confidently.  "Sent back, out of danger.  We're loosing time, Jasi," she added impatiently.

"Don't rush me, Nyssa," said Jasper.  "If this is a real Aranara raiding party, we're not the ones to track it.  I want to be sure.  The trail's fairly clear, and the unicorns can make up for lost time."  He and Lar stalked around, looking closely at the tracks without disturbing them.  At last they stood up.  "Well," said Jasper.  "I haven't seen anything too strange.  There's fourteen instead of the thirteen we were following, but they appear to have been joined by someone.  So...mount up.  We'll follow them.  But be ready for action.  I don't altogether like the feel of this."

The rode on cautiously. Jasper noted that the unicorns were becoming more and more nervous.  He didn't like the feel of this.  Not at all.  He held up his hand to signal a halt.  The ground was muddy, and several footprints were well-outlined.  He knelt over them and felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach.  "Lar...Nyssa.  We've got to ride the other way.  Now.  The tracks are all wrong.  We're on the trail of an actual raiding party."

"What?!" gasped Nyssa.  "We're - ah!!"  She bent forward over her unicorn's neck, gripping her arm.  An arrow protruded from it.  The bushes rang with war cries.  Lar flung himself off his unicorn, not wanting to be a target, and  Nyssa followed his example.  Jasper cast desperately about for a defensible place and spotted a pile of rocks. 

"Lar, Nyssa!  To the rocks!" he yelled.

Another arrow hit Nyssa, this time in the leg.  She fell.  Jasper flung her over his shoulder and somehow managed to run to the rocks, carrying her.  Placing her quickly in a crevice that at least partially shielded her, he turned back to stand beside Lar, who was already firing his arrows into the attacking Aranara.  Two of them went down.  The rest dove out of sight.  Jasper knocked an arrow to his own bow, whispering a prayer for deliverance, realizing with surprise that, instead of calling on Darti, the star goddess, as he always had, he was praying to the Lord.  He had no time to think on this, however for, the  Aranara crept forward, trying to keep from being shot by the two young archers.  Then, suddenly, they rushed, wielding swords and yelling wildly.

Jasper tossed his bow aside and drew his sword; he could use it more effectively.  Two Aranara attacked him at once, but Gilthoniel had trained him well, and his time with the Scouts had only honed his skill with a blade.  He fended them off easily but hesitated to kill.  The combat grew thicker, however, and the awful sound of his sword cutting through badly made armor, flesh and bone rang in his ears.  He didn't like that sound, but there was no time to think about it.  More Aranara were converging on him.  He seized the dead Aranara's sword in his left hand, using both it and his own sword to defend himself.  Lar rained arrows at his attackers; no one got near enough to hit the dark-skinned boy.

Suddenly, it was over.  Two Aranara fled into the trees; the others lay dead.  Jasper stared at his sword in horror, for it was embedded in the skull of one of his attackers.  He pulled it out, staring at the blood that ran down it.  Five of the twelve dead Aranara lay at his feet. Lar had shot the other seven.  Jasper leaned against the rocks for a moment, then threw up.  Lar wasn't looking very well either.  Both boys turned towards Nyssa.  Though his mind was fogged, Jasper knew he had to form some kind of plan.

"Uhhh...Lar.  Ride for help.  Watch out for those two Aranara.  Somebody's gotta know about this.  Find the other group if you can."

Lar looked quite dazed, but he nodded.  "Okay."

Jasper turned to Nyssa as Lar left.  Whistling for Thunder, he dug in his saddlebags for what he needed to help her.  He was finishing the task when Lar and a group of people raced into the clearing.  Jasper was feeling more and more dazed by the minute.  What?  More Aranara.  Oh great.  But...why is Lar with them?  Oh yeah, the other party...the fake Aranara.  This must be them. 

"Jasper!!"  He heard his name called by a familiar voice.  Jonathan Carzim, looking very strange in an Aranaran costume, was running towards him, dodging the dead bodies.  At the very thought of the dead that lay in front of the pile of rocks, Jasper felt a wave of nausea hit him. Jonathan gripped his shoulders.  "Jasper.  Are you alright?  What happened?"

"Followed the wrong group," said Jasper.  "I don't know who got the worst of the fight."

To Jonathan, it looked like the Aranara had gotten the worst of the fight, but he knew what Jasper meant.  None of the Scouts liked killing people, and it was always hard to handle the death the first time you saw it like this.

"Do you get used to this?" Jasper asked in a voice that was almost a whisper.

Jonathan shook his head.  "No.  It gets easier to handle, but you don't exactly get used to it."

"Nyssa?" 

"The others are taking care of her.  She'll be fine."

"I screwed up," said Jasper dejectedly.

"No," said Jonathan.  "You kept yourself and your group alive.  Two of you fought off a party of fourteen Aranara!  That isn't exactly screwing up."

"But I missed the trail."

"You wanna head back there a take a look at it so we can figure out what went wrong?"

"But Lar and Nyssa..."

"The others will look after them."

"Alright then."

They swung on their unicorns and rode back along the trail.  Inwardly, Jonathan was very impressed by Jasper's behavior.  From what he had seen and from the account they had gotten from Lar, Jasper hadn't been originally certain of the trail.  He had turned back almost as soon as he had sensed serious danger, and, though it hadn't been soon enough, it was as soon as they could expect from a student whose senses weren't tuned like those of a Scout.  When under attack, Jasper had kept his head and moved the group to the most defensible location available.  Then, dazed as he was after the assault, he had tended to his wounded comrade and sent for help.  Now he was pulling himself together and going to find out what had gone wrong.  It was under-pressure behavior of the highest quality.  Jonathan said nothing, however, feeling like Jasper wasn't in the mood to accept praise.

They dismounted at the bank where the Aranara scout had joined with the group.

"This is where I got off," Jasper said.

Jonathan dismounted and looked over the tracks.  Jasper and Lar had done an  exceptional job of leaving them intact.  To Jonathan's practiced eye, the tracks were quite different than those made by the fake raiding party.  To the unpracticed eye, however, he could see how they would be mostly the same, with only a few differences - the differences that had put Jasper at unease.  He stood from where he had been kneeling over the tracks.  "I can see how you got confused," he said.  He walked back over to his dejected friend.  "It takes a long time to develop the eye for this; until then, you do the best with what you have.  You did your best, Jasper, and no one can do any more than that."

"But Nyssa-"

Jonathan cut him off.  "You thought it was an exercise.    You weren't looking for an ambush because that wasn't part of the drill.  You couldn't have been prepared for the challenges you faced today because you don't start preparing for these kind of things until you're in your Junior Scouthood, so it didn't happen because you didn't pay attention in your classes.  It happened because you yet lack the knowledge to stay out of such an event.  But even with what happened, you did well."

"You really think so?" said Jasper slowly in a low voice.

"You didn't lose your head, Jasper," said Jonathan.  "That's the important part.  You had split seconds to apply what you'd learned to the situation, and you did a good job of it.  Learn everything you can from this and move on."

"So, what went wrong?" asked Jasper.

"Well, the tracks are different.  If you'd been following trails for three to four years like I have, you would have known.  But you haven't been tracking Aranara for that long - you haven't really tracked Aranara at all until now - so you didn't know.  The real problem, though, was the lack of a proper patrol around this area.  You should have been warned as soon as someone knew about the presence of the Aranara.  Since your guide said nothing, he didn't know, which means the Aranara entered the area very quickly and secretly.  So it wasn't altogether your fault."

Jasper still looked depressed.

Jonathan put a hand on his shoulder.  "Shake it off.  I went through Scout training too, remember, and at this point in your instruction, you couldn't have known."

"Okay."  Jasper shook himself slightly as if to throw off the gloomy event.  "I should probably go back and make sure Nyssa is alright."

Jonathan grinned.  Jasper's sense of responsibility was certainly stabilizing him at the moment.  "Good idea."

They trotted back.  Jasper dismounted beside Nyssa.  "Are you alright?" he asked.

"For the most part," she said, smiling.  "They tell me it will feel better when it stops hurting."

"Most injuries do," he said, returning her smile.  There was color in her face and a sparkle in her eye, and Jasper felt much better.  He would never be able to forget how she looked after getting shot - pale with shock, teeth gritted against the pain.  For some reason, it made him think of Kaia, his sister.  He didn't think of Kaia that much anymore, Jasper realized.  She was a foggy figure of his past, growing swiftly more distant.  His life with his family on the plains was like a memory from another world.  He felt at home in the mountains now and could hardly imagine any other kind of life.

Translated From Sarconian Scout

It was another ordinary first day for Swordmaster Knas.  He looked down the ranks of brown-clad students with a level of eagerness.  This was the job he loved, and having a fresh class was always interesting.  Some Students stood with their practice swords held by their sides, some rested them on their shoulders, and others had placed the points on the ground and were resting their hands on the pommel.  A couple were slowing revolving the swords in their hands, grasping them first by the hilt, then by the long wooden baton that served as the blade, obviously trying to figure out which end was which.  Knas smiled inwardly as he called the class to attention, introducing himself, his assistants, and laying down the law.  "Now," he said when he was finished, "This next will probably be review for many of you, but it's good to keep the basics in mind."  Knas lifted his practice sword.  "This is your practice sword.  It is formed and balanced almost exactly like a real sword.  This end is the blade, and this end is the hilt.  Always hold the sword by the hilt; on a real sword the blade will be sharp."  He noted with satisfaction that the two confused Students were now holding their swords properly.  Randomly calling on students, he had them identify the cross-guard, grip, and pommel.  This finished, he moved on to basic stance.  "You'll be hearing this in nearly every class, so pay attention.  Never stand with your feet together unless you are at attention.  Always have them approximately shoulder-width apart.  Keep your weight on the balls of your feet as well.  This will stabilize you quite effectively."  He gestured for the class to shift to the stance he had just explained and sent his assistants down the ranks.  They would give each student a firm shove in the shoulder.  If the student's stance was correct, they would remain on their feet.  If it was incorrect, they would stumble or fall over.

Over the next forty-five minutes, Knas decided what would happen during the next class.  Firstly, he realized with regret that he would have to give his lecture on how dangerous swords really were. Then he would randomly pair the students, have them duel, and figure out where they needed to be.  The totally incompetent would study under an assistant, while the rest of the class stayed with Knas.  Every now and then, of course, Knas added to himself, there would be that one student who had already received extensive training, and they would have to be shifted to a completely different class.  And Kans believed that he had one of those - a tall, quiet boy with brown hair and green eyes who had an ease about him.  I could be wrong, Knas thought.  I have been before, and flawless performance of basic movements doesn't mark him as exceptional.  But there's something about him that gives me a hunch.  Knas turned away from his scrutiny of the boy.  Whatever his hunches were, they would have to wait until the next day.

The clashing of the wooden practice swords echoed off the stone of the courtyard the next morning, and Knas found himself watching the green-eyed boy again.  Looking down at the chart next to him, Knas noted that the boy's name was Jasper and immediately placed him as the young Strianelian protege of John and Mary Breaker who was rumored to have studied with Gilthoniel Dragontongue.  Watching Jasper duel his opponent, Knas was willing to consider the rumor as truth.  Jasper was turning aside every attack with competent ease, and even if he was not taking the offensive very much himself, every attack he made dove easily through any defense attempted.  Knas glanced around.  There were plenty of capable assistants to handle the rest of the class.  If Jasper had studied with Gilthoniel, Knas knew that he was be extremely skilled, and he did not want to keep him in a basic class like this.  Knas signaled the assistant overseeing the duel Jasper was engaged in.  They would find out Jasper's skill level now.

 

Jasper felt nervous when the assistant overseeing him called an abrupt end to the duel.  The girl Jasper had been fighting, if it could even be called that, bent over, gasping for breath.  "Are you okay?" he asked her.

"Yeah, just out of breath," she replied, rubbing her arm.  "You hit hard."

"Sorry," said Jasper.

"Nevermind," the girl gasped.  "This is sword class, not a picnic or something like that.  You get walloped on."

"Go ahead and sit down, Rachel," the assistant told the girl.  

As she moved away, Jasper saw the Swordmaster headed in their direction and began feeling more nervous.

"Jasper Watson, am I correct?" the Swordmaster asked him.

"Yessir," Jasper replied.

"I've heard that you studied with Miss Dragontongue.  Is that true?"

"Yes," Jasper told him a little hesitantly.

"For how long?"

"Around three months."

"What level did she say you were at when you left?"

"We didn't go by levels sir, but when she left, she said I was 'pretty good'."

The Swordmaster turned and gestured to the assistant.  "Max.  I'll oversee it."  Jasper fell back a couple steps and took his stance, wondering why Max suddenly seemed uncomfortable.  The Swordmaster stepped out of the stone circle.  "Begin," he said.

Max swung at Jasper, and Jasper knocked the stroke aside.  After a few more feeler thrusts, the two boys flew at each other.  The rest of the class was distracted from their respective activities by the loud, fast whacking noise that now engulfed the courtyard.  Those who had watched or participated in frequent duels quickly saw that Jasper was Max's master.  Max was holding off defeat by lively ducking and dodging, but Jasper's skill was relentless.  Jasper dominated for the better part of the duel, and Max was quickly defeated.

"Very good, both of you," said Knas, nodding.  "Jasper, I'm going to transfer you to a more advanced class that will meet here at three 'o clock.  Please arrange your schedule accordingly."

"Yes, Swordmaster," Jasper said, nodding.

The swords started flying.  Jasper and Nancy worked together easily to combat against Max's double-sword defence.  Suddenly, Max, disengaged and went for Nancy with both swords.  It was a familiar combination to both Nancy and Jasper, and Nancy could have handled it with little trouble on her part, but she never had the chance.  Jasper, without even realizing that he did so, stepped in between her and Max's stroke, blocking the other boy's attack.

"Freeze!" shouted the swordmaster.

Jasper, who had been holding back but was now about to exert all of his skill on Max, froze, as did the other two combatants.

Knas paced over to them.   "Did you see what happened there?" he asked the class, who had been watching intently.  "Jasper, did you step between Nancy and the stroke aimed at her on purpose?"

Jasper thought for a moment.  "I suppose I did, Swordmaster Knas, but I didn't really think about doing it before I did it, if that makes any sense, swordmaster."

Swordmaster Knas nodded.  "Did you hear that?" he asked the class.

"Yes, sir," they responded.

"Who can tell me what Assistant Jasper meant?"
Jasper was beginning to see where this all was going and remembered getting this lecture.  A student raised a hand.  "He meant that he acted instinctively, swordmaster."

"Exactly," said Swordmaster Knas.  "Young ladies, I want you to remember this.  When you are out on a mission, it will be the boy's instinct to protect you; he will step between you and the brunt of  the attack.  Now, notice Assistant Nancy's stance." Knas walked over to the still-motionless trio of assistants  "She is still ready, but she has moved back a pace, allowing  Jasper to take the lead here and fend off Assistant Max.  If she had not backed off like that, if she had continued in her defense against Max, she would have given Jasper here a nasty cut on the shoulder.  This," he pointed to the trio, "is standard.  There are modifications, of course.  If they were in full battle, Nancy would pivot," he gestured to Nancy to pivot, "and watch Jasper's back while he is preoccupied with Max.  Return to your former position, Nancy. Please continue the duel slowly and freeze when I say so."

Moving slowly, Jasper began his attack.  Max retreated for a short time, then moved off the defensive.  Nancy spun out and came back to Jasper's side, swinging her sword gracefully towards Max and reentering the combat.

"Freeze!" Knas shouted again.  "See how she has reentered the combat?" he asked the class.  "That is also standard..." he gestured for the three assistants to unfreeze and continued on with the class.

 

Winter, though it seemed that it had just slipped  away, locked its icy grip back on the mountains.  Indeed, it was a very early winter, Alethea observed as she gazed about the farmyard.  The  clouds over the mountains were threatening a terrible storm.  Alethea's worry was not the storm, however.  The house was snug, and they had plenty of wood and supplies.  Her worry was that Jasper was not home yet.  The boy had become as a brother to her, and she was concerned for his safety.  At last she shrugged and turned away towards the porch.

"The Scouts will probably keep everyone at headquarters anyway, what with the storm," she said to herself.

 

The full force of the storm hit Jasper about a half mile from the Breaker farm. He slid off Larkspur, gently crooning to the horse over the howl of the storm.  Going to the saddlebags, which were always kept packed with a few basics, he pulled out a compass and cradled it in his hands.  Looping Larkspur's reins over his arm, Jasper started walking, trying to stay on the bearing of the compass.  He was no stranger to storms; they were frequent on the plains, but this one was cold.  After some time, he ran into something.  He felt it carefully.  The barn!  He opened the door with almost numb fingers and led Larkspur inside, pushing the heavy door shut behind him.  The howl of the storm faded to an extent.  The horses whinnied their greetings, and the cats meowed loudly.  Jasper rubbed down Larkspur, filled the horse's manger with hay, and headed for the house.  There was a sturdy rope that led from the barn door to the porch, so he was not worried about getting lost.

"Jasper!" Alethea gasped as he came in the door, stomping snow from his boots.

"Hello, Lethey," Jasper replied, unclasping his cloak.

"What were you thinking?" Alethea scolded.  "Going out in a storm like this!"  She grabbed Jasper's cold hands and held them between her own.  "Are you crazy?  Why did they even let you go?"

"I have some experience with storms," said Jasper, "And I live tolerably close.  They figured I'd make it."

Alethea clicked her tongue in disapproval as she led Jasper towards the kitchen to get something hot for him to drink.

Anna, who had been hiding under a small table, leaped out and took a death hold on Jasper's leg much in the way that she would cling to a tree she was climbing.  Jasper's gait slowed to a slight limp at the weight.  Anna detached herself when they arrived in the kitchen.  Alethea started making tea while Jasper sank into a chair and pulled out his notebooks.  Anna scrambled into his lap, bouncing.

"What was history class about?" she asked him.

Alethea smiled as she listened as Jasper pulled out his history notebook and began outlining the lesson.  Both Anna and Jasper benefited from Anna's curiosity; Anna because she was indirectly learning from some very skilled teachers, and Jasper because he was repeating the day's lessons and therefore clarifying it for himself.

"Wasn't that silly for King Derek to go crazy?" Anna asked Jasper.

Jasper considered her question for a moment.  He didn't have any notes on this part of the subject, so he decided to go on his own experience.  "No, I don't think it was silly.  Sometimes sisters get annoying..."

Anna grimaced at him.  "I don't," she said quite firmly.

Jasper smiled and continued.  "...but there's a bond between brother and sister that's quite different from the bond between friends or spouses.  It's hard to explain, but you know what I mean.  Especially being a twin.  What would you do if you knew the Aranara had captured Stephen?"

Anna cocked her head as she thought.  "I'd cry and cry and then I'd go down there and say, 'Give my brother back or you'll be sorry you didn't!'  And then I'd get them with a sword. "

"Well, then, you can understand why King Derek was so distressed."

"What's 'dis-tressed' mean?  I heard Alethea call her hair 'tresses' one time, so did you mean that King Derek pulled all his hair out because he was so sad and crazy?"

Alethea giggled.

Jasper laughed.  "Um, no.  Though it does sound kind of like that, 'distressed' in that case means 'very sad'."

"Oh."  A sly look came onto Anna's face.  "I"ll bet Stephen doesn't know that."  Stephen, up to this point, always seemed to know more than his twin sister, and Anna was not usually content to let him be the brains, challenging his intelligence at every turn in hopes of finding something she knew and he did not.

"What don't I know?" asked Stephen, who had just entered the room in hopes of a pre-bedtime snack from a lenient Alethea. 

"What 'distressed' means," Anna responded, a challenge in her voice.

Stephen struggled for the definition, but in vain.  "I...don't know," he admitted, not looking too happy about the fact.

Anna surveyed her momentarily vanquished twin from her perch on Jasper's lap with prim regalness.  Jasper grinned over her head at Alethea, who was putting the tea on the table.  Seeing the beginnings of a spat between the siblings, Alethea called Stephen away from his woes with the promise of scones and hot milk.  Forgetting the failed attempt at defining the word, Stephen scrambled into a chair to eagerly await the coming refreshment.

Alethea set a cup of tea in front of Jasper and, pouring tea for herself, sat down across from him.  "My mission has been bumped back, Jasper," she told him.  "I'm leaving for Corvan with Master Kall and his assistants in two days."

"In the middle of winter?" Jasper said disbelievingly.

Alethea smiled slightly.  "Politics doesn't pay attention to seasons."  She sipped at her tea.  "The passes into Corvan are quite low.  We shouldn't run into too much difficulty.  The Council is sending three Scouts with us instead of the usual one."

Jasper nodded and drank his own tea while he thought.  "It's a shame politics can't  be sensible," he muttered.

Alethea laughed.  "Politics is is about the most ridiculous thing that there ever was.  You won't ever find it to be sensible, Jasper."

"Then why do you do it?" asked Anna as she nibbled at a scone that she had dunked in warm milk and honey.

"Fmbophy haf tof ip," said Stephen with his mouth full.

"Stephen," said Alethea, "don't talk with your mouth full.  It's not polite, and no one can understand what you are saying."

Stephen swallowed, then repeated, with a reproachful glance at his twin sister, "Somebody has to do it."

Anna sighed resignedly.  "I guess so.  But can't some boring old guy handle it instead of Lethy?"

"Anna!" reproved Alethea.

"Anna," said Jasper, " 'Old guys' may appear to be boring, but it's not nice to call them such, even behind their backs."

Anna sighed dramatically and ate her scone.

Translated From Sarconian Scout

John Breaker looked across the table at Jasper a few  mornings after he and Jack returned from the North.  "Well, Jasper," he said, "You've just finished three months of studying swordplay under one of the best swordswomen in the mountains.  Now what do you want to do?"

Jasper poked at his food.  "I don't know."  He wasn't sure if he should voice what he really wanted to do or not.

John turned to Jack.  "What about you?"

"I want to learn how to run the ranch," said Jack.  "Dad's foreman has been running it for a while, and I'd kind of like to take some responsibility for it.  As Melissa's a Junior Scout now, I'd like to move back there."

John nodded.  "I figured you'd want to do that at some point.  Jasper, you're sure you don't know what you want to do?"

Jasper sighed. "Don't you need me here to help run the farm?"

John leaned across the table.  "If I didn't need you here, what would you do?"

"Join the Scouts, I guess," said Jasper.  "But-"

"No buts, Jasper.  It's a respectable life.  Even if you don't choose to join the ranks of the Scouts, you'll get a good education."

Jasper set down his fork.  "You mean I can join the Scouts?"

"If that's what you want."

"Don't you need me here, though?"

"Not necessarily.  I've had some people ask me for a job here, so I can do without you working here, even with Alethea leaving for Corvan in a few months."

"Really?"

"Really.  I can take you down there tomorrow and enroll you, if that's what you want to do."

"Okay."

 

Anyone could join the Scouts, though whether they made it through the three levels or not was a different matter altogether.  This fact was annoying Jasper, however.  It was the evening of his first day.  For the next three months, he would be living in a room at Scout Headquarters with three other boys and a councilor.  Two of the boys in his room had all too obviously been sent to Scout training by their parents in hopes that it would reform their character.  They had thrown their things on the floor and left the room, snickering about something.

Jasper was happy to stay in the room, away from the rushing crowd of people outside.  The room was not large, but it was sufficient to keep the occupants from being too cramped.  Green curtains hung over the single window.  There was a oval rug on the wooden floor between the bunks, which were stacked two high and placed in a U shape around the rug.  The mattresses on the bunks were supplied with dark blue and brown sheets and blankets.  The bunks themselves were  longer than usual and had a chest built into the end of each for clothing storage.  Two shelves were nailed to the wall next to each bed, and a small lantern hung near the head of the bed.  Jasper, sitting cross-legged on one of the top bunks, unloaded his bag and put his things away.

The doorknob turned, and a tall, dark haired boy with olive skin stepped into the room.  "Afternoon," he said to Jasper.

"Afternoon," Jasper responded.  "I'm Jasper."

"Lar," said the other boy.  "Is that upper bunk over there taken?"

"Nope," said Jasper.

Lar threw his gear onto the bunk across from Jasper and jumped lightly after it.  "So who left their gear all over the floor?"

"Our two roommates," said Jasper, "and I don't intend to pick it up for them.  If it gets squished when I jump down, it's their fault."

Lar grinned.  "Do you really think we should squash it?" he asked as he unpacked his things and stowed them in the trunk.

Jasper shook his head.  "Not on purpose."

Just then, the councilor stepped into the room and lifted an eyebrow when he saw the mess on the floor.  He looked first at Jasper, then at Lar, who both looked innocent without even trying.  The councilor had already introduced himself to Jasper, now he greeted Lar.  "The name's Ryan," he said, holding out a hand to Lar, who shook it firmly. Ryan sighed.  "Usually I don't have to give my 'keep the room clean' lecture until the second or third day.  Where are those two, anyway?"

Lar shook his head, and Jasper shrugged.  "They left," said Jasper.

"Hm.  I'll go find them then," said Ryan.

He returned with the other two boys, Eldvitch and Melvin.  They whined like two-year-olds when he told them to stow their gear, and Ryan told them in no uncertain terms to "Stow their whine too if they didn't want some cheese with it."  They sloppily shoved their things into place, but that wasn't good enough for Ryan.  "There's not much of it, put it away neatly," he said sternly.  Grumbling, Eldvitch and Melvin put their things in order.

By the time everyone had settled in, it was time for supper.  Everyone filed off to the mess hall, from which wonderful smells drifted.  A few bone-weary Scouts just in from missions and the oldest instructors were placed at the front of the line, while the room that had to help in the kitchens that meal shifted to the back.  Eldvitch and Melvin complained about not getting to go first, then caught sight of some girls, started flirting with them, and got violently slapped for their pains.

Lar and Jasper, who were quickly becoming friends, watched their roommates with amusement.  While some initial politeness had stopped them from saying anything mean to Eldvitch and Melvin, the girls the two were trying to flirt with obviously had no such restraints on their tongues.

"Do we know each other, you goon?" one girl demanded of Eldvitch.

"No, sweetheart," Eldvitch replied with what he thought was a charming grin that actually made his face look more like he had just eaten something very bitter.

"Then don't call me 'sweetheart,' you dweeb!"

"Would 'girlfriend' be more acceptable?"

The girl glared at him.  "No."  She slapped him, hard.  "Fishface!  Jerkhead!  Go away before I forget I'm supposed to be a lady and give you a black eye!"

Jasper, Lar, and several other people coughed to conceal their laughter as Eldvitch stepped hastily out of arm's reach.

 

The next day started with chapel.  Eldvitch and Melvin obviously considered this boring; they slumped in their seats, passed notes, and dozed.  Jasper blushed a little in embarrassment to be associated with the two.  He did not accept The Way himself, but there was no call to be disrespectful.  As far as Jasper was concerned, all gods were equally dangerous, and it was best to keep them all pleased with you.  He and Lar exchanged expressive glances and kicked their roommates discreetly in the shins.

The man at the front of the room was reading the Word.  "And the Lord took the man he had formed and breathed life into him.  He gave him rulership over the creatures of the earth and blessed him."

"Have you ever made anything?  Did you care about it?"

"Well, yeah.  I made it."

"God made you, and don't you think He would care about His creation?"

Jack's words came back to Jasper as a soft echo in the back of his mind, setting him to thinking very hard.

After chapel came breakfast, then a history class.  The teacher paced back and forth in front of the large piece of slate mounted on the wall, lecturing about the beginning of the world.  Jasper leaned over his notebook, writing furiously until his hand was sore.  Eldvitch and Melvin goofed off, drawing unflattering pictures of the teacher, blowing their noses very loudly, trying to get the attention of the nearby girls, and flying papers around the room.  After class, Lar, who had been at the desk next to Jasper, looked over at Jasper's notes.

"You don't know how to takes notes, do you?" he said.

"Well," said Jasper, "not really."

"I can show you what I've learned about note-taking tonight," Lar offered.

"Would you really?" asked Jasper excitedly.

"Yep."

The next order of the day was running.  They jogged a quarter mile, walked a quarter mile, jogged another quarter mile, and walked the last quarter.  Those that were, like Jasper, still fresh at the end of this, were sent off to jog a half mile.  Jasper loped off, leaving Eldvitch and Melvin laying on the grass moaning something about cruel torture.   When he got back, the instructors sent him off to jump at the sand pits.  They ran and jumped and jumped from a dead stop, then went off to run some more, this time sprinting.    Then there was another class - geography.  They learned the names of the countries, their locations, and started a study of their major cultural differences.  Map drawing was then capitalized on until the lunch bell rang.  Everyone was more than ready to eat.

After lunch was horseback riding, then unarmed combat.  Jasper loved learning about the horses and their overall behavior.  He had always considered himself a boatman, but now he found that he liked horses just as much.  Unarmed combat, however, was a different matter.  Though Jasper found it useful, he did not like it very well.  He much preferred using a sword to using a fist or foot.  Through all this, Eldvitch and Melvin made nuisances of themselves, asking mindless questions during class, accidentally/on purpose hitting their opponents in the face during unarmed combat, and even managing to get a bur under one of the horses saddles, causing the poor creature to go wild with pain.

So it was no great surprise that while Jasper and Lar sat on Jasper's bunk, laughing and talking about their experiences, Eldvitch and Melvin were off scrubbing the floor of the east hall under Ryan's disapproving gaze.  As promised, Lar showed Jasper how to take notes.  Lar's method was simple and straightforward, and Jasper caught on quickly.  Their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the loudly complaining Eldvitch and Melvin, but the two friends decided that they had had a profitable evening.

Ryan came in a few minutes later and conducted a devotion (which Eldvitch and Melvin paid little attention to) that Jasper soaked up.  The subject was on the beginning of the world, like the other lessons.  On the plains, there were many beliefs about the beginning of the world.  Some said the the world had been created when two gods were having a contest over who was the most powerful.  Other said that the nothingness that had existed in the beginning had exploded, and from that, everything had spawned.  Jasper had yet to figure out how 'nothing' could explode.  Still others said that the world was the product of an accident that had occurred while a goddess was cooking.  But this that Jasper heard now - of a God who had made the world for men, made men, and the breathed into them life - seemed most reasonable.  He swung a foot in the air as he listened, feeling that he was finding something that satisfied his questions.

 

The first month ran much like this.  Eldvitch and Melvin goofed of during every class, acted like they were dying during running, and then spent the evening doing menial tasks for punishment while Jasper and Lar studied together.  At the end of the first month, however, Eldvitch and Melvin were expelled.  The class sizes went down a great deal - at least a third of the recruits could not stand the rigorous physical, spiritual and academic training.  Jasper, Lar, and Ryan moved across the dormitory to a four bunk room instead of a six bunk room.  They had no fourth person, however, so one of the bunks remained empty.

This end of the dormitory was different in the sense that there were girls around the boy's quarters and vica-versa.  The girls were on one side of the main hall, the boys were on the other.  This arrangement made Jasper very nervous until he saw how the halls were laid out.  Two rows of rooms were set back to back on each side of the main hall.  Between the back-to-back rooms were halls, known simply as the Girl's Hall and the Boy's Hall, each accessible only from the dorm rooms of the gender to which they belonged.  Therefore, Jasper's room, like the others, had two doors, one opening to the main hall across from the girl's rooms, and one opening to the Boy's Hall across from the other row of boy's rooms.   Jasper had only had a few swift glances of the girl's dorm rooms, but these glances had given him enough information to know that the girl's rooms were decorated with flowers, glass beads, and all things sparkly.

Ryan was a much more lighthearted person when he wasn't having to deal with two trouble-makers at once.  He had a boyish sense of fun behind his stern nature.  He laughed over many a joke with his two charges, and the three of them decorated their room with a wild assortment of maps and trinkets, which they hung wherever they could.  Their weapons were always in easy reach - one of the first habits instilled in the recruits.  When Jasper woke up in the morning, he had only to turn his head to the side to see his sword hilt where his belt hung on the bedpost.  The feathered ends of arrows were also visible, for his quiver hung next to the belt.  His longbow hung on a hook on the side of the bunk, and schoolbooks were piled on the shelves.  Fascinating objects were brought in until the room was comfortably cluttered with interesting things.

The end of the first three months came around sooner than Jasper would have thought possible.  Both he and Lar decided to move on to being Scout Students, as did about thirty others.  On the last night of the month, they were rambunctiously 'initiated' by the current Students.   The initiation consisted of being chased to the lake that lay outside of the city and then being pushed into it.  Jasper was greatly applauded, for he managed to drag his pushers into the lake with him, a rare feat.  The Students then good-humoredly pulled their victims out of the lake, wrapped them in warm blankets that they had waiting, and led them back to Headquarters, where they ate finger foods, made parodies of songs, and otherwise had fun until late in the night, when their councilors sent them to bed.

Well, I've had a poll hanging out on my sidebar for a while, and I figured that it was time to tell you what the results were.

In answer to the question 'How Do Your Characters Behave?'

8% said However I want them to - they're quite docile.

43% said 'Most of them behave how I like...exept for one (glares across the room at renagade character)

22% said However they like. I've lost control...not that they're mean or anything.

3% said However they like. They've kidnapped me into their world to do their housework for them. Help!

24% said I AM the renagade character. MWAHAHAHAHA!!!

General concensus?  Characters misbehave. 

Joshuel:   

....Yeah.....

Anyhoo, I've got another poll on the side, so go check it out!

(I start right after there was a sickening crack)

There was once a young man walking along the stormy road on the eve of the darkest Friday of the month. His blue eyes almost glowed in his tan face, and his long legs took wide strides over the ripped turf. Destruction was coming, something shivered in the air like silk in the wind, and the man could sense that it was not good. His fists clenched as he walked over the countryside, away from his home and his family, away from everyone he had ever trusted. Life was a trivial thing, so he thought. Especially his life. He wanted it to change and indeed, it HAD to change before the wildness was broken free from the gates of whatever stood between him and his new life. Something was coming, he could feel it in the ground beneath his feet and heard it in the rain drumming the bare tree branches. The man suddenly stopped and turned around, unsheathing his dagger. He was stunned to find that Batman was standing right behing him. He jumped and screamed a little. Batman gave a cruel laugh and glared down at the man, one of his stoopid little ears thingys falling over his eye. He hit it back up with a annoyed slap.

"Ya wanna see how high I can fly?" Batman asked in a high squeeky annoying voice

"Uh...sure..." the man said.

 Batman gave a small leap looking quite like a pinguin.

"Oh!" He squeeked, " I think I need a running jump." Batman ran to the top of the building and jumped off "WATCH MEEEEE!!!!!!!!!" He yelled as he dropped at a rapid speed towards the asphant.

An old woman eating a hot dog she just bought looked up in shock at the black object shooting out of the air straight towards her. The Dark Knight fell right on the woman's head. There was a sickening crack as the old lady smacked Batman with her enourmous handbag.  "Whaddaya think you're doing, sonny?" she demanded.  "Quit bouncing around and sqashing me for no apparent reason!"  With a loud 'hrumph' the old woman walked right up to the young man, and, although he had never met her, addressed him by his first name.  "Kyik, go find a sword that has 'Draw me not without reason' traced on one side of the blade and 'Sheath me not without honor' on the other side.  If you draw any sword but that, you will promptly die." 

"But most swords are kept in sheaths, so how will I know if it's the right one if I don't unsheath it, and if it isn't the right one I'll die, so I only have one chance!  What am I supposed to do?" Kyik yelled in desperation as the woman walked away.

"Draw the right sword, stupid boy," she said casually over her shoulder.

Kyik sighed and went to sheath his dagger, then stopped as he..........

 

*grins wickedly*  Okay, drehounda Kantare!  Take it away!

Translated From Sarconain Highway

Joshuel is practially purring.  He couldn't be more excited out this, especially since he didn't have to fight for it like before.

 

Melissa was surprised that her instructor during her Junior Scouthood was Joshuel Carzim.  Normally, Junior Scouts were placed under older Scouts.   Jonathan was often with Joshuel, however, and she suspected that if the council had approved Joshuel as her mentor, he was capable.  Besides, she had been noticing that the list of Scouts killed on missions was growing longer.  The Aranara were becoming more aggressive, and she had the feeling that the Council was trying to turn out Scouts as quickly as possible without interfering with the very exacting training.

Joshuel, for his part, often felt inadequate as Melissa's instructor, but he was always boosted by his brother.  He was also leveled out by Jonathan.  He and Melissa were rarely alone together, in acquiescence with the Scout Code of Conduct, but that didn't stop Joshuel from noticing that his childhood friend was growing more beautiful by the day, even when she smelled of woodsmoke and sweat, was covered in mud, and hadn't washed her hair in a week.  Her gentle presence and quick mind drew him to her like a magnet, and he was beginning to wonder if he wasn't enjoying her presence a little too much.

"Thane," Joshuel said to Jonathan, "I think it might be best if you took over Melissa's training."

"Why?" Jonathan asked.

"I'm attracted to Melissa.  Alot."

"I cannot take over her training," said Jonathan.  He held up a hand to stop his brother's protests.  "I have reasons for this.  However, Josh, I will arrange with the council for me to be sent on all of you and Melissa's missions.  That way, I'll be with you.  We'll stay at Scout Stations as much as possible."

Joshuel nodded.  "Alright."

 

Melissa glanced at her tutor, Joshuel Carzim, waiting to see what he made of the trail that she had found.

"They were moving very quickly," Joshuel murmured, scanning the tracks.  "Either they had someplace to go, or something frightened them."

Melissa looked around for other tracks, the tracks of whatever had scared the party they were tracking.  Then she saw it.  "J-Joshuel?" she said nervously, "Isn't that a Kraser track?"

Joshuel moved swiftly to her side.  "Yes, it is.  That's good that you recognized it.  So that's what scared the group...and it's chasing them.  Now what do we do?"  He looked carefully at at Melissa, waiting to see her reply although he was already laying plans for their next move.

"We follow it," said Melissa.  "But there's a problem."

"What is the problem?" asked Joshuel.

"Two problems, actually.  Kraser spiders are very big, very dangerous, and always very grumpy."

"Why do you think we're following it?" Joshuel said dryly.

"I-I'd rather not follow it actually," said Melissa in a small voice.  "I'd very much like it if we went the other way right now and never caught a glimpse of it."

"Is that the other problem?" Joshuel asked her gently.

Melissa nodded.

"Well, I'd rather not run into this creature myself, but we'll probably run into it with that group about, and there is strength in numbers."

"I suppose so," said Melissa, images of them combating the spider and dying spinning through her head.

"Courage, Lissa," said Joshuel, patting her shoulder.  "Let's go."

They trailed the spider and noted that the party it was chasing had split up.  They rode fast on the spider's trail now, and the tracks swiftly became fresher.  At last they burst into a clearing, drew rein, and dismounted.  "He may have hid in a thicket," said Joshuel, referring to the person that the spider was chasing.  "You check that thicket, I'll check this one."

They moved off, Melissa working hard to control her trembling.  Dawn, her unicorn, was very upset, and she knew that the spider was close by.  Slowly, she bent to peer into the thicket.

Joshuel glanced back at the nervous unicorns and bit his lip.  He was liking this situation less and less every second.  Jonathan, his older brother, was supposed to be following them, and Joshuel hoped he would show up soon.  Jonathan was two years older than Joshuel and considered very experienced by all the Scouts.  Suddenly, Melissa screamed.  Joshuel turned swiftly and saw her fleeing from the thicket across from him.

With a cracking of branches, the spider reared from its ambush, hissing.  It stood at about six feet tall and was covered in matted brown hair.  Its red eyes glared at them, and its fangs dripped green venom.  The unicorns reared and neighed frantically.   Wailing, Melissa flung herself against Joshuel, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest, frightened beyond reason.  The spider screamed at them, rearing, and began to advance.

Joshuel gasped for breath.  Melissa's hold on him was cutting off his breathing to an extent and she was screaming non-stop.  Joshuel grabbed for his bow, then realized that, with Melissa clinging to him, he would not be able to shoot with accuracy, if he could shoot at all.  "Melissa," he said earnestly, "Let go of me so I can shoot."

Melissa's terror was impenetrable.  She was rendered virtually deaf by her fear and continued to hang onto him with a death grip.  Joshuel began to try to forcibly detach Melissa, but the more he pulled at her, the more desperately she clung to him.  Joshuel's hands started shaking as he realized that the Kraser was almost upon them, and he would not be able to fight it.  Suddenly, an arrow hissed over his head and he knew that Jonathan was there.

Jonathan came to his brother's side, an arrow knocked on the string and held at half-draw.  "You get Melissa back to her senses," Jonathan said.  "I'll handle the spider."  He moved off and started shooting at the spider again.    At last, with a final hissing scream, it collapsed.

Melissa's screams slowly quieted, and she leaned against Joshuel, crying softly. Joshuel had put his arms around her and now rubbed her shoulders, soothing her.  "Is it gone?" she asked.

"It's dead," said Joshuel.

Melissa peeked out, caught a glimpse of the dead Kraser, cried out, and hid her face against Joshuel again.  Joshuel slowly pivoted and began sidestepping towards the spider.  Melissa went with him, not wanting to get close to the spider, but not wanting to let go of Joshuel's reassuring hold.  "Stop," she moaned.

Joshuel stopped about ten feet from the spider.  "Here, Lissa," he said,  "It can't hurt you."

Melissa peeked out again and didn't like the spider dead any more than she liked it alive.  "Yuck," she said in a mixture of fright and disgust.

Joshuel pushed her back from him and, taking her hand, led her over to the spider.  "You can touch it," he said, wanting her to face her fear and become familiar with it.

Not letting go of his hand, Melissa leaned towards the spider, touched the matted hair with a finger and recoiled with the shriek, flinging her arms around Joshuel again.  "I don't like it," she said.

Joshuel and Jonathan laughed softly at her response.  Joshuel glanced down at his clingy student and found that now that the danger was gone, he didn't mind hugging her so much.  In fact, he realized, a little surprised by the revelation, he was rather enjoying it.  Slowly, he urged her to touch the spider again.  She reached out and put her hand on it before jumping back and hiding behind him.

Slowly, she became more accustomed to the creature and no longer screamed and hid behind the boys at the sight of it.  Its presence was enough to make her flinch, but that did not concern Joshuel.  Kraser spiders were extremely dangerous and a fear of them was actually a healthy thing, so long as it did not get out of hand.

 

They stayed at White Rocks Scout Station that night.  Joshuel talked to some other Scouts who told him that the Kraser population was getting out of hand and the spiders were not only attacking but killing more and more people to the extent that the Council was organizing spider hunts.  He also found out why Jonathan had not agreed to take over Melissa's mentoring.    The stationmaster at White Rocks had a daughter, Justyne, who, though she was cordial to everyone, was just a little more cordial to Jonathan.  Joshuel did not immediately notice it, but when Melissa started choking on her food in an attempt not to laugh while watching the two, he figured something was up and noticed that Jonathan and Justyne were watching each other.  Jonathan managed to take an extremely long time eating his food, and by the time he was finished, there was hardly anyone in the room, and Justyne was free to come over beside him and eat her own supper.  The two of them stayed up later than most and talked.  Half on and half off the top bunk of the bunk bed in the room he was sharing with his brother, Joshuel thought about how pleasant it would be if he could stay up and talk with Melissa like that.

The underwritten is something that just sort of came out of my head.  I've been toying around with a story to this affect; we'll see where it goes.  Chapter Ten of Sarco is in the entry below this, if you seek that.

If you live in the most rual parts of the kingdom, you may know whomeone who has seen them, or even seen them youself.  If you live in the kingdom at all, you've heard of them.

When a hard day's work is over, supper has been eaten, and all the chorse are done, the fire is stoked, the candles are blown out, and you hear of them: The Kingmakers.  The people who believe that a prince can never become king if he is pampered and privlaged all his life. The people who have trained evey prince in our kingdom for as long as anyone can remember.

The story of the Kingmakers is one of brats turned leaders, boys turned men, princes turned farmboys and back again.  It is the story of a child turned into a king who knows his people personally and can care for them all the better because of it.

I always loved the story of the Kingmakesrs.  It was always said that you would know a prince-in-training by the way he acted when he heard the story.  I've never seen it myself, but it's said that, if you're lucky, you'll see a young man who, dispite his patched and tattered clothes, maintains his regal bearing.  As the tale is told around the storyfire, it is said, he will drap his eyes and hang his head, as if he has just been rebuked.  Towards the end of the story, however, he wil raise his head, and his eyes will take the tint of quiet determination.  He will make eye contact with two people across the fire, who also keep a sense of regal bearing through their rags.  They will nod slightly to the young man.  Then you will know that the Kingmakers are in your village, and your next king sits at the feet of the storyteller after working beside you all day in the fields, learning what it is like to be ruled before he becomes the ruler. 

Translated From Sarconain Highway

Spring came, melting the snow in the lower valleys, though the mountains were still blanketed in the cold whiteness.  Jack and Melissa turned fourteen, and Melissa contacted the Scouts to see if she was still eligible for a Junior Scouthood.  Jack and Jasper began preparing for their trip north. 

It was still very cold when they set out, but they pressed northward despite the icy wind.  Jack carried a map that showed where the sheltered camps were, and though it sometimes took them a little out of their way, they did their best to make one of these camps every night.  Both knew that if they did not, they could easily freeze to death.  They crossed the Nitrasia River and entered Dragontongue land on the third day of their trip.  Following Melissa's directions, they turned north-east.

Jasper found himself constantly looking over his shoulder.  "We're being watched," he said to Jack in an undertone.

Jack nodded.  "I feel the same way."

The 'watched' feeling continued through the day, wearing on their nerves.  Finally Jack decided to scout around.  All Sarconians were woodcrafty, and if Jack was not a Scout, he was certainly a better woodsman than any Jasper had known of on the plains.  He vanished into the woods with barely a sound, intent on circling around and spying on their backtrail.  Everything was silent, save for the wind in the pines, but this did not make Jasper relax.

Suddenly there was a startled yell from Jack.  He tumbled down a low bank into the road, a figure leaping after him.  Jasper sized his bow and knocked an arrow to the string.  Jonathan had taught him archery during his visits to the Breaker farm, and Jasper, already slightly familiar with the skill, had caught on quickly.   Jack rolled to a crouch, dagger drawn.  The figure halted at the sight of Jasper's drawn bow.

"Well met," she said.  "A see that at least one of ye is prepared for attack."

"Are you the one who was following us?" Jack asked.

"Ye knew A was following ye?" the woman asked.

"We suspected it," Jack replied.  He had not relaxed.

"Well met, indeed!" said the woman enthusiastically.  "A did not expect ye to notice me.  Relax, ye two.  A was testing ye."

"Testing?" asked Jasper, relaxing the string and lowering his bow but not taking the arrow from the it.

"Aye."

Jack stood up from his defensive crouch slowly, his dagger still ready.  "Gilthoniel Dragontongue?"

"Aye.  Yer sister sent ye?"

"Yes, Melissa told us to come find you."

"Very good.  Follow me."

They followed her down the path they had been on, then turned onto another trail.

"Ye do know that war is coming?" Gilthoniel asked as they walked.

"War?" the two boys asked in unison.

"Aye."

"The Aranara?" asked Jack.

"Partially.  There's also a corrupt lord on the plains - he's out to take the throne.  That's why A'm going to teach you."

"But why us?"  Jasper voiced the question that was on both boy's minds.

"Do ye realize what ye are?" Gilthoniel asked Jasper.

Jasper looked very confused.  "Apparently not," he said slowly.

"You are the first plainsman to come to the mountains in over a century.  Do you have any idea how pivotal that is?"

Jasper shook his head.

"Well," said Jack,  "I think I might."

Glithoniel sighed.  "Ye may very possibly have the power to unite the kingdom."

"What!?" cried Jasper.  "Me?  I'm just an orphan who ran to the mountains because I had no other choice!"

"It may have started that way," said Gilthoniel, "But it is very possible that the Lord has other plans in mind for ye.  For now, though, live yer life.  Ye are familiar with the ways of the plains, now ye must become familiar with the ways of the mountains.  That is the first step.  If ye understand both cultures, ye will have a better chance of uniting them.  But we will speak no more on that now.  Now is the time when ye will both learn swordcraft so that ye'll have a better chance of living through the war."

 

Gilthoniel lived in a comfortable stone cottage.  The teaching arrangement was simple. In exchange for Gilthoniel's lessons, which went beyond swordcraft, the boys helped with some of the heavier chores that needed to be done around the cottage.  Most of the day was spent on a hard-packed dirt circle that was about twenty feet in diameter.  They got a basic introduction to every bladed weapon known to Gilthoniel, but she concentrated on teaching them to handle the longsword, the two-handed sword,  and the dagger.

They started out with wooden swords, Gilthoniel dueling one while the other watched or taking them both on at the same time, teaching them to attack together effectively.  She was not very gentle with her practice sword, and when they failed to parry a stroke, they felt it in a hard, stinging blow.  This made them more determined, however, for, not liking the thought of being bruised from head to toe, they defended themselves with vigour.  Although their efforts did not give them real returns until a few weeks had passed, Gilthoniel was pleased - the boys knew the consequences of a poor defense. After some time, they moved on to using real swords with blunted edges.  Gilthoniel drilled them endlessly, and the clash of steel on steel became a familiar sound. 

The days slowly warmed, and the leaves dared to come out.  Jasper breathed in the clean spring air as he watched Gilthoniel and Jack duel.  Both were pouring sweat, for the duel had lasted a very long time.  There was one clash, then another, and suddenly Gilthoniel's sword flew from her hand and skittered across the circle.  "Very good," she said to Jack.   "I think you are ready."  Gilthoniel was exausted, as was Jack, and so there was no more duling for the rest of the day.  They studied inside instead.  Jasper dueled Gilthoniel the next day.  He had no idea how long they fought, only that suddenly, just before his legs gave out, he managed to disarm his teacher.  The next moment, he simply sat down, too tired to stand any longer.  Gilthoniel, breathing heavily, sat down as well, though she did not collaspe as Jasper had.  "I could train you more," she told him, "but you are good, better than most swordsman you will meet.  I will give your  training a little more polish, and then you can go home."

Translated From Sarconain Highway

"I'm going to turn into a white mole," said Jasper as he dug at a snowdrift with Jack. 

Jack grinned, tossing a shovelful of snow to the side.  "This is better than doing  nothing."

"I guess."  It was wintertime, but both boys were kept as busy shoveling snow as they had been when the crops needed care.

Jack tossed another shovel of snow to the side.  As the whiteness settled, he saw a figure.  He watched it for a moment, then sprang to the top of the trench the boys had been digging towards the barn. 

"What is it?" Jasper asked.

Jack paused a moment.  "Melissa!!" he yelled, racing awkwardly forwards as his feet sunk at intervals into the snow.  The other figure began to run towards him, uttering a cry of delight.  Brother and sister floundered through the snow, crashed into each other, and fell to the ground together.  Laughing, they sat up and hugged each other.

As he watched them, Jasper thought of Kaia with a pang in his heart.  Though his little sister had often driven him nuts, he missed her.  Jack and Melissa moved towards him now, Jack's arm around Melissa as they fought through the snow.  They came to the edge of the trench.  Melissa dropped down lightly; Jack followed her.

"I don't believe we've met," said Melissa to Jasper.  She was dressed like a Northerner; the hem of her skirt purposefully made with one side longer than the other.  There was a trace of a Northern accent in her voice, a sign that she had been with them for some time. 

Leaning on his shovel, Jasper kissed her proffered hand.  "I'm Jasper Watson.  I've been living here with your aunt and uncle since this fall."

"It sounds like you might have a story," said Melissa.

"A short one," said Jasper, smiling.

"I must hear it," said Melissa, "though I am content to wait until later."

Jack now spoke up. "We are just as anxious to hear your tale, Melissa," he said.

Melissa laughed.  "Very well.  I shall bring you up to date tonight."

 

"I really went out of my head," said Melissa that evening as they sat around the fire.  "I don't remember much, save that I was miserable.  I saw signs that the Aranara had started the rockslide and suspected that they might come back to kill any survivors.  So I ran, terrified and sad.  I don't remember much from those days.  Then, one day, I decided to jump off a cliff."

Jack looked shocked.  "Jump off a...oh, Lissa."  He took his sister's hand.  "I should have stayed conscious after the slide and given you hope."

"What's done is done," said Melissa.  "I was saved by Glithoniel Dragontongue, a Northerner.  She said that you, Jack, asked the Scouts to look for me?" 

Jack nodded.  "Something like that.  I said that it was likely that you were still alive and asked them to tell all Scouts going on missions north to keep an eye out for sign of you.  Apparently they passed that news on to the three Northern clans."  Jack caught the question in Jasper's eyes and gave an explanation.  "The Northerners are made up of three clans - the Dragontongue clan, who are mostly warriors, the Nitrasi clan, who are mostly fishermen or craftsmen, and the Bartel clan, who are mostly farmers."

Jasper gave a nod of understanding.

Melissa continued.  "Gilthoniel took me to her home.  Over the weeks, as I regained my senses, she asked me about what I had learned from my instructors.  When she had finished quizzing me, the lessons began.  Stealth, archery, knife-play, swordsmanship, herbcraft, everything.  And at a level I never imagined possible."

"It's said that the Dragontongue clan is very skilled with the sword," said Jack.

"And it's no idle tale," said Melissa.  "Gilthoniel is very good; it was an honor to study with her."  Melissa paused before she continued, remembering.

 

"A get the feeling that things are about to start happening, Melissa," said Gilthoniel during one of her swordplay lessons.  "Ye will need talent in this craft.  Next spring, send yer brother north, for he needs to train with me."  Gilthoniel stopped speaking for a moment, as if weighing whether to tell Melissa something or not.  At last she continued.  "There'll be another, a close friend of yer brother, as they will share a story.  He is to come, too."

"Who is he, this other?" Melissa asked.

"Ye'll find out in due time, Lissa, and ye'll know when you 'ere 'is story.  And Lissa, don't tell 'em why A want 'em to come.  Just tell 'em A want to see 'em.  If they ask any questions, tell 'em that they'll find out when they meet me."

 

Deciding that this information did not need to be imparted yet, at least until she found out who Jack's friend was, Melissa skipped the conversation and continued.  "Well, I stayed with her through the summer and fall.  I wanted to be back for the festival, but Gilthoniel wouldn't let me leave; I don't know why.  She wanted me to stay with her through the winter, but I couldn't stand it anymore."

"Stand what?" asked Jack.

"Being away from you; knowing that you didn't know if I was alive or not.  I couldn't take that sort of thing anymore.  So A came back."

"I'm glad you did," said Jack.

Melissa slid into the same chair with her brother.  The chairs were like cubes whose top and front had been cut off.  The arms were the same height as the back, and the entire piece of furniture was padded with cushions.  It was incredibly comfortable, and had room for two people if those people didn't mind being a little squashed together, which Jack and Melissa apparently didn't.

Anna pattered down the stairs in her white nightgown and tumbled over the arm of Jasper's chair, landing in his lap with a contented sigh.  Her yarn-haired doll rested in the crook of her arm.

"And why aren't you in bed yet?" Jasper inquired somewhat playfully, looking at the clock.

"I'm not sleepy," Anna declared.  "At all.  Can't I stay up and listen to Melissa's stories?"

"You know just as well as I do, Anna," said Jasper, "that you are supposed to be in bed by nine-thirty."

"Pleeeease?" Anna begged.

Mary Breaker came in from the kitchen.  "Anna?  You should be in bed."

"But I want to hear the stories, Ma."

"You may stay up until ten, then, I suppose, but no later."

Anna settled herself contentedly in Jasper's lap.

"Jasper," said Mary, "Have you seen Alethea?"

"No, ma'am," Jasper replied.

Mary shook her head.  "She's been spending a lot of time around town since she began her diplomatic training."

Jasper nodded.

"If she isn't back by ten 'o clock, you and Jack go into town and get her."

"Yes ma'am," Jack and Jasper replied together.

"What is your tale, Jasper?" asked Melissa, pulling up her knees and leaning her head against Jack's shoulder as Mary left the room.

Jasper took a deep breath, considering where to begin.  "I was born in Brenia Village.  My father was a carpenter.  I grew up helping him somewhat, but I spent most of my time with the fishermen who lived at the edge of Brenia lake, which was north of the village.  They taught me how to handle smaller watercraft, and, when I was skilled enough to go out alone, I would fish.  My younger sister, Kaia, would sell what fish we didn't eat at the market. 

"This...summer, a plague hit the village.  Both my parents will killed by it.  My sister and I were placed with different guardians, and I do not know what has happened to her.  Later that summer, my guardians decided to arrange an engagement between their daughter and I."

"Engagement?" Melissa interrupted.  "How old are you, Jasper?"

"Thirteen."

"And how old was she?"

"Thirteen."

"So," said Melissa, "This kind of early engagement must be sort of an...obscure tribal custom?"

Jasper nodded.  The Strianelians had once been disconnected nomadic tribes.  Although they were now united into one nation, most knew to which tribe they belonged and worshiped the same tribal gods and practiced most of the same tribal customs as their ancestors.  "I am part of the SyDow tribe, and it has always been considered a disgrace among the tribe if a young person is not engaged before they are fourteen.  I believe that we are the only tribe that practices early engagement, but it has still been very important."

"So I take it that your guardian's daughter and you got along?"  asked Melissa.

Jack snickered softly.

Jasper shook his head.  "No, we did not."

"Then why would they do such a thing?"

"I don't know," said Jasper, "besides the fact that most tribes demand that members marry within their own tribe, and none of Misty's circle was SyDow.  I think the union made perfect sense to my guardians; they liked me, that I know."

"They were obviously blind to their daughter's opinions," said Jack.

"Yes, well, most marriages are arranged by parents or guardians.   Then you have four years to fall in love with your betrothed, and if you aren't in love with them by the time you are both seventeen - though.  You are marrying them anyway."

"Ouch," said Melissa.

"Yeah," Jasper agreed.  "Thankfully, in the SyDow tribe, the groom can break the engagement if he wants to after the four years.  Of course, the entire thing is looked at with some extent of disapproval, but it can be done if neither person is happy.  So I was going to wait, but everyone in Brenia makes a very big deal over a marriage, and neither Misty or I could take it anymore."

"So you ran away?"

"Yes.  I will most likely be presumed dead, and the engagement will be broken.  Even if it is not, Misty won't have to put up with me.  I intend to go back there in a few years and make sure that the engagement was indeeed broken after I dissapeared."

"Do you think you'll remember?" asked Jack.

Jasper thought of the ruby ring he wore on a chain around his neck.  "I hope so," he replied.

 

"You mentioned tribal gods?" Jack asked Jasper later that night in the attic.

"Yes," said Jasper.  'There's the sun god, the moon goddess, the star goddess, the night god, the storm god, the river gods, the tree gods, the god of war and a several others that I don't remember at the moment."

"Does each tribe worship all these gods?"

Jasper shook his head.  "No.  We believe in and respect them all, but each tribe has a patron god or goddess whom we worship exclusively.  The SyDow tribe, for example, worships Darti, the star goddess.  There's this one group of people that say that there is only one God.  They call him the Lord of Heaven.  They call the gods and goddesses false, ignore many tribal customs, and even intermarry.  Which on the plains is a big deal.  Not that they're bad...just very strange.  I notice that you Sarconians also worship this God."

"Yes," said Jack, "we do.  He is the God of everything."

Jasper thought for a moment.  "That is a very big God."

Jack hid a smile.  He had been waiting for this conversation for a long time.  Jasper had been respectful and quiet during family prayers and devotions, but it was obvious that he did not hold the same religious beliefs as the Breaker family.  "The Lord is everywhere," Jack said.

"I don't think I understand this God."

"Have you gathered anything from the devotions?"

"Not much.  It doesn't all make sense.  I worship in my way, you worship in yours, how does it make a difference?  What difference does it make, one God or many?  They are all strange beings who don't really care that much."

"The Lord cares."

"About you maybe, but not about me."

"And why would He not care about you?"

"Why do you think?" Jasper asked.  "I have always followed Darti."

"Have you ever made anything?" asked Jack.

"Ummm....yeah," said Jasper, puzzling over the sudden change of subject.

"Did you care about it?"

"Well, yeah.  I made it."

"God made you, and don't you think He would care about His creation?"

"So, you are saying that I've been taught a lie all my life.  There is no such thing as the star goddess, just one God who made me and cares about me.  That's a whole lot to grasp!  But why should I accept it, anyway?  What proof have you that Darti doesn't exist?"

"Do you believe in eternity?"

"Yes."

"What happens when followers of Darti die?"

"They turn into stars."

"Seen any new stars lately, Jasper?"  Jack asked.

"Well, no.  But that doesn't mean they aren't there!"

"No," Jack admitted, "it doesn't.  Let me give you some proof that God exists.  Have you studied the time before the Dark Years?"

"Just a bit.  Why?"

Jack pulled out a book.  "Have you ever seen one of these?"

Jasper leaned over to look at it.  "Once or twice.  I know it's called The Word and it outlines the beliefs of the Lord's followers.  They say He directed its writing."

"It's also a history.  What are some events from before the Dark Years that you would consider yourself very familiar with?"

Jasper named off a few events.

Jack nodded, flipped through the book, and handed it to Jasper, pointing to a place. "There."

Jasper read it.

"Well?" asked Jack when he was finished.  "Is it accurate?"

"Yes."

"So, what's to say the rest of it isn't accurate?  I can assure you, I've checked up on this through the Archives, and I've never seen an event misrepresented."

"I can believe you that it's accurate.  But what difference does that make?"

"It makes this completely true, every word."

"Yeah, I'm willing to believe that.  But how does that affect me?"

"It says that God commands everyone to follow Him and Him alone.  That's how it affects you."

Jasper considered this.  He had been taught all his life that when a god said to do something, it was best to do it.  But to do what this God said to do was to disobey what the other gods said to do.  He said as much to Jack.

The other boy nodded.  "But that's not a problem if they don't exist."

Jasper thought about that for a while.  "Let me sleep on it."

"Okay," said Jack, not wanting to push the matter.  "Also, it would be good if you talked to Jonathan on this.  He's far better studied than I."

Jasper looked puzzled.  "I thought Jonathan was a Scout."

"And an ardent follower of the Lord, as are all the Scouts.  Their relationship with God is a major part of their lives."

"Their relationship?  Not their religion?"

"You'll know what I mean once you've studied it more." 

 

Jasper was more than happy to study with Jonathan.  Although the Sarconian's religion was different than everything he had been taught, it made some sense to him.  The people who followed the Lord were different.  They did not live in fear of the purposeless wrath of the gods and goddesses, they lived in joy.  There was a definite respect for their God, but not stark terror.  He liked that; it was more reasonable than the muttering priests and strange rituals that he had seen in years before.  His study was interrupted, however, by an announcement from Melissa.

"Jack?  Jasper?  Where are you?"  Melissa called as she came into the barn.

Jasper, pitchfork in hand, stuck his head out of the loft.  "What?"

Melissa looked up at him.  "I want to talk to you and Jack.  Where is he?"

"Trying to milk the goat," Jasper replied.  "Not that he was doing very well the last time I saw him."

"If he's not very good, why do you let him do it?"  asked Melissa.

"That goat is antsy," said Jasper.  "None of us can really handle milking her, so Alethea, Jack and I take turns. Of course," he added regretfully,  "when Alethea leaves for her internship with Master Kall in Corvan, it'll just be Jack and I."

Jack trudged in with half of the milk in a pail and the other half splattered all over his hair and clothing.  "I am in no way endeared to that goat," he said.  "It's trying to drown me."

"You can say that again," said Jasper, swinging down from the hay loft.  "What did you want to talk to us about, Melissa?"

"Gilthoniel said to send you two north," said Melissa.

"Why?" asked Jack.

Melissa shrugged.  "I'm not entirely sure myself.  She said you'd understand when you got there."

Jasper scratched his head, discovered a bit of hay in it, pulled the hay out, and examined it.  "Hu.  Jack?"

"Well," said Jack, "There's no reason to not trust Glithoniel.  She is a Dragontongue, and they like being mysterious."

"Anyway," said Jasper, "we wouldn't have to milk the goat."

"Anything to get out of that," Jack said.  "Let's talk to Uncle John and Aunt Mary."

"I already did," said Melissa.  "They say that you can go as soon as the snow melts."

Jack rubbed the back of his head.  "I thought Uncle John wanted us here for spring planting."

"Joshuel Carzim has graduated from his Junior Scouthood, so he and Jonathan are settling down into a regular Scout's routine.  They'll have time to come over and help with the planting."

Jack and Jasper looked at each other.  "Well," said Jack, "I guess that settles it."

Translated From Sarconain Highway

The Great Market was a few days after the Fall Festival.  Craftsman and merchants from all over the mountains, south-western Teranse, and eastern Corvan came to market their wares.  Sarconia City, though little more than a legend on the plains, was still an important trade center. 

The Market Square in the city was usually bustling with activity, but today, it was truly hectic.  The Breakers had loaded whatever they had about the farm to barter with into the wagon and set out soon after dawn.  Jasper took in everything with profound excitement.  Besides the usual Sarconian inhabitants, there were several of the Corvanie - tall people with tight-sleeved clothing that was cut far differently than any Jasper had ever seen.  They seemed to like bright colors, and their vivid clothing stood out from the more quietly dressed Sarconians.  A group of stately people glided past with a guard of four Scouts.

"Elves," Jack whispered in Jasper's ear.  "Probably diplomats."

John Breaker found a place where the wagon and its contents would be undisturbed, and they all got down.

"You boys have a choice," said Mary.  "Either serve as Alethea's escort or babysit Anna and Stephen."

Jack and Jasper chose Alethea almost without pausing to think about the matter.

"Stay together," Mary said.  "Meet back here at the wagon about two hours before sunset.  Alethea, bargain carfully; don't let anyone fool you."

 

Jack, Jasper, and Alethea wove through the stalls, taking an overall view of things.  A Corvanie merchant's daughter approached Alethea, a beautifully woven shawl in her hands. 

"Lovely, is it not?" she asked, holding it out and allowing Alethea to finger the fabric contemplatively.  "Trimmed with beads too, as is the latest fashion in the Corvanie Court."

"It is beautiful," said Alethea, before moving on.

The entire area was filled with things to see.  Weavers displayed exotically woven fabrics, jewelers flashed their hand-crafted regalia before shopper's dazzled eyes, cooks and bakers offered the most scrumptious refreshments they knew how to make, woodworkers presented nearly everything that could be made from wood - from stools to instruments, and smiths showed off their work as well.  Musicians were everywhere.   Here and there, Scouts patrolled the area, keeping the Market orderly. 

Each of the three young people had some money to spend on whatever they liked.  They wanted to survey the market before making their decisions, however, for the coins they carried in their pockets were hard-earned.  Copper regals were the least valuable coin in the  internationally accepted currencies.  The only difference between countries was the queen whose image was stamped on the coin, and no one really bothered to concern themselves about whether the queen was Corvanie, Strianelian or Teransen.  After that, however, names and appearance divided.  The Corvanie had silver kesks, which weighed an a ounce, tuets, which were half an ounce, and jirs, which were a quarter of an ounce.   The Strianelians and Sarconians used one ounce sliver hios, half ounce neoms, and quarter-ounce ses.  The Teransens used the same currency as the Strianelians.  But here at the Market, no merchant would complain if a customer used both kesks and hios to pay for his or her purchase, for they all weighed the same, and the merchants were more concerned about getting the right weight of sliver  than having all the coins match.

"Did you know," said Jack as they wandered through the booths, "that the name of the coin ses is the same as the Elvish word for 'moth'?"

"You are serious?" asked Jasper.

"Quite," said Jack.

"Then how," Jasper asked, "would they come up with a name like that?"

"From what I hear," Jack replied, "the first time this currency came out, the coin was stamped with the image of a moth."

"A moth?!"  Jasper said, shocked.  "Why?"

"I don't know."   Jack's attention was now drawn by a smith who was showing a knife he had made.

"Perfect balance," the smith said.  "Excellent for throwing."  He continued his sales pitch, ending it proudly with, "Only five kesks, my friends.  You'll find no better price anywhere."

Jack, who, up to this point, had been listening intently, snorted.  "Ha," he said softly.  "Unless there's something extra-special about that knife that he did not mention, I can get one just as good for only three hios; two ounces less than his price."

They continued on, admiring the wears.  After a stop at a booth for cider and bread, they settled down to bargaining for their purchases.  Alethea had decided on a shawl from Corvan.  It was bright blue and fringed with purple beads.  An expert at haggling, Alethea talked down the price a great deal, and, when she counted her change, she found that she had quite enough to go and visit one of the bead workers or jewelers.  Jack wanted a knife, but not the price of six hios that came with it, and so spent almost an hour talking the merchant down to three hios and one neom, which, Jasper had learned, was only a neom more than the usual price for knives.  Jasper had not yet seen anything that he particularly wanted, so, while Jack bargained for the knife, he accompanied Alethea to the jewelers and waited patiently while she cooed over the beautiful jewelry.

While Alethea critically examined every necklace, bracelet, broach, clasp, and ring in her price range, Jasper's attention was drawn by a tailor.

"It'll keep you warm, lad," said the man, holding up a gray cloak for Jasper to examine.  "Elf-made cloth it is, so it'll last almost forever."  The man was warming to his subject now.  "The cowl is deep to keep off the wind, and the hem is deep too, so there's room to grow.  Of course," the man twirled the cloak, "if you don't like this style, I've got some with sleeves and some with slits in the sides, if you'd prefer.  I've different colors too.  Black, a couple shades of green and blue and several shades of brown."

Alethea, having made her purchase with surprising speed, now joined Jasper and felt the cloth critially.  "It's good fabric," she said, "and the stitching is firm as well."

The tailor grinned with pleasure.  "None better, miss."   Seeing that Jasper was becoming increasingly interested, the tailor brought out every color he had and spread them on the makeshift counter for Jasper and Alethea to examine in the late afternoon light.  Alethea advised Jasper that a cloak of this quality was a good purchase, so he set about deciding on a color.  At last they narrowed it down to a brown and a green; Jasper liking the simple, straightforward color of the brown, and Alethea arguing that the green matched his eyes.  Jasper couldn't have cared less about his clothes matching his eyes, but wasn't sure how to tell Alethea that.  He was at last rescued by the tailor's wife who, seeing his predicament, pulled Alethea aside and told her that expecting boys to choose a cloak just because it matched their eye color was a vain hope.  Alethea reluctantly gave up her stand.

The tailor nodded vigorously.  "Brown then.  Basic, sleeves, or slits?"

"Basic," Jasper replied.

"Alright," said the tailor.  "I have five kinds of clasps, or you can go with a tie."  He laid out the choices.

Jasper quickly eliminated three of them, thinking them too elaborate, and decided against the tie.  He finally chose a clasp that slid together and locked, forming a square.  The tailor's wife folded up the cloak, Jasper paid the tailor with a hios and a ses, and, thanking them, he and Alethea joined up with Jack and headed for the wagon.  

 

There was plenty of things for them to do when they got there.  While Alethea looked after the twins, John, Jack and Jasper loaded the wagon with bolts of cloth, books, and farm tools under Mary's instruction.  Then they climbed in to go home; John, Mary, and Alethea in the front seat and Jack, Jasper, Stephan and Anna in the back.

 

Translated From Sarconain Highway

Melissa stood on the edge of the gorge, looking down the high sheer cliffs to the wild river below.  One step - she would be over the edge, and that was her plan.  The crashing, merciless river would not let her live for long, even if she managed to fall between the jagged rocks that thrust out of the river like so many broken teeth.  The young girl was not in total control of her stricken mind, having never fully recovered from the blow to the head that had knocked her out during the rockslide.  Everything in her brain was foggy; nothing clear at all except the fact that both her mind and her body were in pain.  Disoriented, she had decided that death was the only escape from that.  She stepped forwards.  Something jerked at her belt and she felt herself falling, but it was not the direction she had intended.  She was falling backwards.  Arms caught her and she was lifted, none too gently, and carried away from the edge of the cliff.

Melissa did not resist.  She didn't care what happened to her.  Her unsupported head drooped back over her rescuer's arm, and she felt the blood going into it.  Perhaps she would go unconscious.  The thought was inviting, and she welcomed the blackness, inviting it into her mind. 

Cold water on her face drove the blackness away.  "What do ye think ye're doin'?" said a voice above her.  It was a woman who had spoken.  Melissa knew that from her voice.  She also knew that the woman was a northerner from her accent.

"Getting away from it all," said Melissa.

" 'At's the worst way to do it, lassie."

"Can't you just leave me alone?"

"Melissa.  No.  A can't just leave ye alone."

"How do you know my name?"

"A've been lookin' for ye.  Yer brother - he contacted the Scouts, told 'em ye were still presumably alive.  They contacted us Northerners."

"Jack!!" Melissa screamed, sitting up.  "He's alive?"

"Yes.  And very worried."

"And I...And I..." Melissa, overwhelmed, fainted.

 

When she awoke, she was lying on something comfortable and a bit crackly.  The blanket over her was slightly rough, but warm.  She didn't want to wake up and face reality, but a voice startled her.

"Melissa.  Up with ye.  A've got food, and yer goin' to eat it.  Now."

"But-"

"Jack."

That single name was very effective.  Melissa opened her eyes, sat up, and took the food.  Her mind was still foggy, even after she finished.

"Drink this," said the woman, holding out a mug.

Melissa took a swallow and felt the foggy curtain tearing.  What is this?  she wondered.

Melissa, when you're home, curled up in a chair eating cookies and reading, you may daydream.  The firm voice of Instructor Devin rang in her mind.  Slip out of reality all you want.  But when you're not at home, you must be on the alert.  No dreaming.  It'll fog your mind, and a good Scout won't let his or her mind fog.  They need it too much.  The gentler voice of Herbalist Chloe followed closely behind.  Lissa, you should be familiar with herbs - especially those that clear the mind.  If you've just struck your head and can't seem to get your mind clear, you must know what to do to get your senses back to where they should be.  Mind clearing herb.  Then the name was there, and she knew what she was drinking.  But Melissa still wasn't sure if she wanted mental clarity.  A fogged mind was just so serene.  More of Instructor Devin's lectures began ringing in her ears.  Melissa's Scout training was firmly ingrained in her.  She finished off the mug without protest.

Her mind was clear now.  Guilt pounced as she realized that she had turned her back on her teachers, her brother, and her God - the three most important things in her life.

"A suppose ye understand the gravity of what ye tried to do?" the woman asked.

Melissa nodded regretfully.

"Mm.  Realize it, repent of it, and put it aside.  Ye don't need to be hauling around unnecessary burdens."

"But I let them all down!" said Melissa.

"Ye've taken the first step.  That's good."

"And I couldn't be more sorry."

"There's the second.  Now set it all aside and go on," the woman said.

"I can't."

"They'll forgive you."

"I can't forgive myself."

"Yes, ye can, if ye put yer mind to it.  Quit moanin' and carryin' on.  Act like the Scout ye are."

"I'm not a Scout yet," said Melissa, a litte defensively.  She wouldn't have normally said this, but it was an escape from responsibility that she didn't want right now.

"Ye're close enough.   Don't use that as an excuse for escaping responsibility that ye don't want right now.  Ye've got to take it sometime, and better now than later."

Melissa eyed her.

"A know A'm tellin' ye things ye don't want to hear, but ye got to.  Melissa, do ye still want to be a Scout?"

"I suppose so.  It was always my dream."

"Then act like a Scout, and don't give up that dream.  Ye got that?"

"Yes."

"Good.  Now, my name's Gilthoniel Dragontongue, and A'm your mentor fer now."

"But I probably need to get back," Melissa protested.

"No, not yet.  Yer in no condition to do so, bein' all mentally shook up as ye are.  Ye need some time to stabilize before ye go back and dive into yer Junior Scouthood.  A can 'elp ye do that, and A'm goin' to."

"But-"

"Don't argue.  It's fer yer own good.  We'll stay at my home fer a few months.  Ye'll be ready to 'ead back by then."

"Alright."