Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume I

     Winter passed slowly.  The news that Melissa brought of the Aranara band caused some excitement, but the Aranara fled quickly, not wanting to have any sort of confrontation with us.     
       Finally spring’s chinooks melted the snow and a soft green began to spread on the hills, highlighted by colorful flowers.  The only reminders of winter’s icy grip was the snow that still clung to the tops of the mountains.   Many of the horses and unicorns had foals and colts, and Kaia’s cat, Precious, had a litter of kittens who often mistook me for a climbing wall.
      Jack and I were out with the herd again, watching the young ones as closely as their mothers, not wishing to give some wolf pack an easy meal.  Misty pleaded to come with us, saying that she was tired of being cooped up in the house.  I protested at first, but in the end let her come.  The extra pair of eyes did us good.
      The second week out I was riding around the herd when I heard Misty screaming, “Jake!  Jack!  Look over there!”  Both of us whirled and followed her pointing finger.  A pack of wolves was slinking out of the trees.  “Stay with the herd!” Jack called to Misty.  “Jake and I will handle this!”  Shrieking at the top of our voices we put the pack to quick flight.
      “Thanks, Misty,” I said, gripping her hand.  She flushed and gave me a shy smile.  Strange.  She’d never acted like that before.  I heard something behind me.  A snort?  No, it was more like a choke.  Misty, looking past me, flushed even redder.  I whirled in the saddle.  Jack was leaning over, hacking. Was it my imagination, or did I hear laughter concealed in that cough?  Jack was undoubtably very red in the face. 
      “Are you ok, Jack?” I asked.
      A few more coughs.  “Yeah,” Jack said, “ Just had a little coughing fit.”
     Behind me, I thought I heard Misty giggle, but when I looked at her, her face was straight and the very picture of innocence.  Why were they acting so strange?  I put the incident out of my mind.
      That night Kaia, Misty and I got a visit from Melissa.
      “I think the Aranara are planning something,” Melissa told us that evening. “I think they’re sending out scouts.  I’m not sure though.”
      “I thought you said that they couldn’t sneak around,” I said.
      “Most of them can’t,” Melissa said, “but there are some who can.  The Aranara aren’t dumb.  Their leader, Malfic Vespertine, is a wonderful strategist.  They have always wanted the northern mountains.     Their forces have grown very large, and I think Vespertine will attack soon.  Especially with all the unrest on the plains.”
      “The unrest on the plains?  Kaia, could you keep the cats under control?”  There was one kitten on my head, and from the sound of things, it was playing King of the Hill (Head?) with another kitten.  The game promised to get rather rough.  Kaia reached over and grabbed one kitten, and I nabbed the other. “What were you saying about unrest?” I asked Melissa, setting the unruly kitten down on the floor where it proceded to viciously attack my boot.
     “The king, Nicanor, is very ill.  At the point of death some say.  If he dies, his daughter, Princess Josephina Victoria, will be Queen.  However, Prince Reginald, King Nicanor’s half brother, is pressuring the king to give Ichabod, Duke of the Northern Forests, Josephina’s hand in marriage.  From all I’ve heard, Duke Ichabod is a jerk, and the princess is opposed to the match.  All the lords have taken sides, and there is probably going to be a fight over the matter.”
     “And you think Vespertine will attack at this time because the lords will be to busy arguing to help you?”  Kaia asked.
      “Yes.  However, I think that getting assistance from the plains is wishful thinking.  Those on the eastern plains don’t think we exist, and those on the western plains think we...I’m not sure what they think actually.  They just seem terrified that we’re going to cast spells on or kill them.”
      “Would you do either of those if riled?” Misty asked.
      “I can’t cast spells and I never met anyone who could, at least the spells the plains people think of.  But sometimes when I see the sun set or the moon rise over the mountains...” Melissa didn’t complete her sentence.  She didn’t need to.  We had all felt the spell- like sense of wonder when they saw the natural beauty of the sunset and moon rise.
      I felt a twinge of nervousness at Melissa’s prediction that the Aranara would raid soon.  I was also worried about the ‘unrest’ on the plains.   I knew that Prince Reginald was a man who, when he wanted something done, was difficult to stop.  But what would he do to force the princess to marry the duke?  Princess Josephina was,  from what I’d heard, very strong willed.  If she was opposed to the marriage, it would take nothing short of death to change her opinion about Ichabod.
      I shook my head.  Nothing good would come of this.

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume I

I am going to procede to torment you with yet another chapter of my story.  If you've been wondering, it is going somewhere, it's just taking it's time.

Melissa dismounted.  Making sure her weapons were in easy reach she slipped around the huge bolder that hid the entrance to the cave where she had left her mount.  Silently she melted into the forest. 
 Melissa smiled softly to herself as she glided through the woods.  This was the life she loved.  No one could see her unless she wanted them to, and she usually kept out of sight.  Crouching on a rock she watched two Northern riders walk their horses right below her, unaware of her presence.
 She wasn’t here to spy on the Northern people however.  A raiding party of about fifteen Aranara had been trapped in the Mid/Northern Sarco Mountains and it was her job to report their position.  Rising, she traveled along the ridge, keeping an eye out for any signs of the Aranara’s passing.  Then she saw it.  An Aranara boot print, firmly outlined in the snow.  It couldn’t be more than two hours old.  The Aranara appeared to be on foot.  Silently she raced back through the forest.
 Back at the cave she flung a white cloak over her shoulders and pulled the hood over her face.   Swinging up on Dawn, she began to run the Aranara down.

                                                                   ❊✺❊

 
 Gilthoniel Dragontongue peered closely at the tracks in the snow.  An Aranara raider  had  passed  through  here  quite recently.  But what was this?  Another track in the snow.  Substantially  smaller.  A girl or younger boy, Gilthoniel reasoned.  Taking her unicorn by the reigns  she followed the small tracks.  They led west, and whoever was running didn’t leave a lot of  trail to follow.  Gilthoniel smiled suddenly.  A Sarconian scout.  She went back to the place where  she had first seen the scout’s tracks, swung on her unicorn and began to trail   them.
 After riding for half an hour Gilthoniel drew her unicorn to a stop.  Looking through the trees she saw a girl crouching over some tracks.  The girl’s light colored cloak blended in with its surroundings so well the young scout was hardly visible.  The girl  straightened suddenly.  She  walked to her unicorn and put her hand on its neck, skimming the  forest with her purple eyes.
             As  soon as Gilthoniel began to move forwards the girl spun toward her, an arrow on the  string.
 “Relax,”  Gilthoniel said.  “I think you and I are hunting the same game.”
 “Maybe so, maybe not,” the girl replied.
 Gilthoniel slipped off her hood. “I think we are, Melissa.”
 “Gilthoniel!  Haven’t seen you in a while.  What are you doing here?”
 “The same thing you are, probably.  Getting  information  on the position of an Aranara raiding party?”
 “You  guessed it.”
 The girls  walked their mounts along the clear trail the Aranara had left.
 “These  Aranara don’t hide their trail very well,” Gilthoniel commented.
 “Few of them do.  They’re rather easy to track.  How much information have you got on the raiding party?”
 “They’ve been sighted a couple of times, always heading east.  My guess is that they will turn south when they reach the foothills.”  Gilthoniel glanced at her friend.  “With that hood over your face anyone would take you for a misshapen, walking snowdrift.”
 Melissa laughed quietly, then glanced at the tracks they were following.  “Gilthoniel, these tracks are fresh.  Only a few minutes old.”
 Gilthoniel knelt down to examine the tracks at close range.  “We’d best leave the unicorns here.  We don’t want to be spotted.”
 Dropping the reins of their unicorns the girls melted into the trees.  A soft scent drifted towards them.  The girls glanced at each other.  Wood smoke.  They crept forwards.  The Aranara encampment was in a small clearing next to a stream.  Gilthoniel and Melissa quickly noted the position and vanished.
 “Didn’t even hear us come or leave,” said Gilthoniel in disgust.  “Morons.”
 “Calm down, Githoniel,” Melissa said gently. “You know it’s been said you’re the stealthiest scout ever to ride the hills.”
 Gilthoniel glanced at her friend. “You heard me coming.”
  Melissa laughed. “Jack calls that my scouting sense.  It’s like I know when someone watching me, even if I can’t hear them.”
 “A strange gift.  Not many have it.  I trust my ears, mainly because they’re sensitive.  Your great aunt Melissa, the one who was with the founding of Sarconia, was so silent in the woods my people call her ‘Mistlissa’.  I think she was one of the best of all time.”
 “Sometimes I wish I’d known her, but I would have had to have been born about two hundred years earlier than I actually was to do so.  I guess I’ll have to satisfy myself with studying about her.”
 “You know more stories, legends and history than any person I know.  Where’d you learn them all?”
 “I did a lot of talking with Jonathan Carzim,  Joshuel’s great-grandfather.  He knows all the old stories.  He’s a good story-teller as well.  The best.”
 Githoniel smiled. “I only heard old Jonathan once, but he told those stories as if he were describing something he could actually see.”
 “That he did.” 

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume I

     Winter in the Sarco Mountains is terribly dull.  It is easy to sink into the blues, even though the monotony is occasionally broken by a desperate search for a scout that got caught in a blizzard.  The excitement ends when the scout is found, for he is usually holed up in a cave.  Once, instead of the search party finding the scout, the search party got lost and the scout found them.
    The scouts didn’t always come through safe however.  A scout friend of mine named Joshuel was nearly killed while riding near the Slit Valley.
     The Slit Valley was known for the spiders that lived there.  The superstitious believed that there was a curse on the place.  Curse or not, some pretty large and strangely colored spiders had been seen wandering through the woods in that area, and it was usually avoided.
     Joshuel had been attacked by a Kraser.  The Kraser were not the largest of the Slit Valley spiders, even though they were a rather intimidating creature,  standing about six feet tall.
     “I was riding about half a mile from the Slit Valley,” Joshuel told me, “when my unicorn, Firestorm, started acting like he was going mad.  I was just starting to get him under control when I heard this hiss behind me.  I turned around and saw a Kraser.  Those things know how to make themselves look a lot bigger than they really are.  They have long brown hair, and when they get mad, like this one was, it all stands on end.  He had two fangs, both of them dripping green venom, red eyes, and deadly pinchers on the ends of his legs.
     “That thing looked at me, and gave a cry that sounded like a cross between a hiss and a scream.  It reared up on its four back legs, making itself taller than it had any right to be, and ran at me.
     “The Kraser are practically invincible.  You can hack on them all day with a sharp blade, and they’ll take it like a tap, but I didn’t know that at the time.
     “Anyway, this thing comes running at me.  There was no use running from it, so I turned Firestorm towards it and drew my sword.  When he was almost on top of me he slammed his forefeet down.  Firestorm dodged, and I landed a pretty heavy blow on the Kraser’s leg.  It didn’t do anything.”
     “Is there any way to kill a Kraser?” I asked Joshuel.
     “Only one way that I know of, and you have to be an archer to do it.  Their only vulnerable spot is their eyes, and when they’re fighting, they keep them away from you.
      “We kept it up for almost half and hour, and by that time Firestorm and I were both starting to tire.”
      “How did you get out?” I asked
      “Well, this thing had us cold, but about the time he was about to deliver the death blow, I heard a arrow whistle over my head.  It buried itself in the Kraser’s eye.  That thing reared back and screamed.  I turned around to see who had shot and saw Melissa standing on a ridge near me, cool as ice, fitting another arrow into her bow.
      “She shot it about five times before it died.  We made camp and I asked her how she happened to come on me.  She smiled and said, ‘Southern business.’  That was the time she snuck into Aranara headquarters and stole a bunch of their battle plans.  The Aranara leader, Malfic Vespertine, has never forgiven her for it.”  Joshuel sobered suddenly.  “I’m worried about Melissa.  She traipses around the countryside so...boldly.  I don’t want her to get hurt or captured, but there’s really nothing I can do about it.   I just hope she’s careful.”

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume I

     Malfic Vespertine gazed stormily down the long wooden table, looking  towards the huge wooden door.  Everything was going wrong.  It had started a couple years before.
      He learned from his scouts that two potential Sarconian scouts, Jack and Melissa Breaker, were going on a trip with their parents.  He’d had his men start a rockslide in hopes of killing the family.  He had been angry when he found out that Jack and Melissa had escaped the rockslide, but 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.  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.  But then that dreadful lout, Gilthoniel Dragontongue, had gone and given Melissa hope.  Gilthoniel would pay for that.   A year later Melissa snuck into his office and stolen all his battle plans.
      He had called in his son.  “Melissa Breaker has stolen our battle plans, Malficence, ” he said.  “Take a detachment out after her.”
      So they had chased Melissa, but the young scout was good at hiding her trail, and stayed ahead of them.  An escort awaited her at the border.   Malficence had caught up with the escort and engaged them in fierce combat, but once again, Melissa escaped.
      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. “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.  Then he paused.  He had caught a glimpse of Melissa once, 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.  If we capture one, the other will come after him/her.”
      “Family loyalty,” chuckled one of the staff members. “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, but leave the girl alone.  I want her unscathed.   I will enjoy breaking her.  That pleasure in 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.

Originally I had this sequence going between Malfic and his jittery lieutenant.  However, they way I did it made Malfic look stupid, so I have heavily modified this chapter from it's origanal form.  If you have any tips on how to lengthen this and make Malfic and his staff all the more evil and scary, tell me.

                                                                                         ~AuthorElf

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume I

      The snow came,  sudden and unexpected, and Melissa brought word that the southern passes would be clogged with ice and snow before the week was out.   Jack and I combined our herds with those of the other herders, and we watched them constantly.
       It wasn’t long before we had about a foot of snow on the ground, but there was a break in the corral where the herd was kept, so we took the herd out.  It was almost always snowing.  I was always cold.  In fact, we were all cold.
        The day of the Aranara raid it was the coldest it had been yet.  I pulled my knit hat down over my ears, and the hood of my cloak over that.  My hood blocked my peripheral vision, but I was too cold to care.  I cupped my hands and blew on them to warm them.
       Suddenly Thunder’s ears pricked and he whinnied.  I looked in the direction that he was looking and saw movement.
      “Aranara!” I yelled.
      No one had to wait for confirmation, for the raiders had already burst from their  hiding place.  Within seconds we had the herd galloping toward town.  It didn’t seem that we’d reacted fast enough, for the raiders were already hot on our heels, trying stampede the herd.
      A blood-chilling yell sounded to our left, and Melissa, mounted on her unicorn, Dawn, dashed out from behind the snow-covered bushes and charged the raiders.  As she galloped toward them she was hollering at the top of her lungs and cracking a long, black-snake whip, looking about as intimidating as someone her size could possibly look.
      Steven Tecal detached himself from the herd and charged the raiders alongside Melissa, yelling like a banshee.   The two of them were amongst the raiders in an instant,  snapping their long whips about.  The raiders howled with rage as Steven and Melissa knocked off hats, nipped noses, sliced clothing and spooked horses.
      Several kids came out from town and took over the herd for us, driving it toward the corral where it was kept.  Freed from the herd Jack and I, along with several others galloped toward the place where Steven and Melissa were already reeking havoc.
      The raiders, deciding they were outnumbered, turned and raced back to wherever they came from.  We let them go, not wanting to start anything at this point, Melissa sending a few arrows whistling over their heads to speed them along.
      “That was either the most courageous or the stupidest thing I ever saw anyone do,” I said to Melissa as we rode back to the city.
     “It wasn’t courage.  It was responsibility.  It was something that had to be done,” Melissa told me quietly.

My dad has posted on his blog!  It is a really cool post!  Go to Defender and see it!

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume I

     There was something very important that I had forgotten about.  Jack was busy hatching plans to shove me in the lake.
      It happened about a week after we had successfully driven the Aranara back to their mountain stronghold to cogitate on their losses.  I was talking on the porch of Tenrea’s (the hot spot in town where everyone my age hung out) when Jack said,  “We have forgotten something very important.”
 That jogged my memory.  I began to inch away.  Before I knew what was happening Jack was chasing me across town.  When we got to the shores of the lake he had nearly caught up to me.  Suddenly I was in the lake and Jack was on the shore, laughing.
      “Alright, you ornery fellow,” I said, coming up and shaking the water out of my eyes.  Before Jack could even say, “Aggggg!”  I had grabbed his leg and pulled him into the lake with me.  He came up grinning like a maniac and splashed some water in my face.  For the next five minuets neither of us had any responsibilities.  We were just a couple of idiot teenagers having a water fight and a great time.  Jack finished off the water fight by giving me a dunking, and we flopped out on the grass to dry out.
      After I had dried out I headed back home.  The herd was being held just outside of town against impending Aranara attacks, so I was spending more time at home.  I was going to start teaching Misty to ride today.
      I saddled Lighting, my dependable horse, and helped Misty mount him, then swung up on Thunder. 
      “Grip with your knees, not your hands,” I told the giggling Misty.  “There you go.”
     She advanced surprisingly quickly.  Her riding form was nearly perfect from the beginning, and before the week was out I had taught her nearly everything necessary to riding a horse.
     Two weeks later I took Misty out with me to the herd.  She was mounted on Stardust, a gentle, intelligent unicorn.
     Ever since she had come to the mountains Misty had been awed by the beauty of everything around her.  Once she had realized that none of us were sorcerers, she had made friends quickly, and was very happy. Even the most protective of the unicorns had let her near their colts.  She had what Melissa called the ‘touch’.
     That evening Misty helped us take the herd back to the corral.  We rode back to the cabin in the blue moonlight.
      “Everyone at home told me that the mountains were desolate places with little vegetation, but they aren’t.  There’s grass and trees everywhere,” she said that evening.
      “The southern mountains aren’t like this, from what I’ve heard,” I told her. “They’re the desolate area.”
      “Isn’t that where the Aranara live?”
      “Yup.  And they aren’t very happy about living down there.”
      “Is that why they attack?”
      “I guess so.”
      The nip of cold in the air told me that autumn was well on the way.  I was glad to get by a warm fire in the cabin.
      “The southern passes will be clogged with snow soon,” Kaia told me. “The Aranara like to raid this time of year, mainly because we can’t chase them all the way to their stronghold.”
      “Well,” I said, “I’d better keep a sharp lookout tomorrow for raiders. Misty, you’d best stay here tomorrow, just in case.”
      The next day, however, there were no raids.  In fact, we were hit with a sudden warm spell that melted the ice in the passes.  Life went on as usual, even though there was tension underneath.
      Preparations for winter began.  The hoarding of food in attics and cellars. The breaking out and mending of cloaks and other winter gear.  The patching of roofs, wall, floors and windows.
 For now, at least, everything was normal.  How soon that would change none of us knew, but certainly none of us expected that change would come as soon as it did.

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume I

I added new music!!  The other music was too sad.  I had alot of fun looking at music to replace the music I had. 

Ok.  Next story chapter.

      When the group began to form to go down to Brenia, my friends and sister didn’t want me to go.
     “If they catch you, they’ll kill you,” was Jack’s statement.

     “I don’t care!” I cried, “I don’t care if they’re a bunch of hard hearted morons!  I don’t care if they’re the most knuckle-headed idiots ever to see the light of day!  They are my people.  I have friends down there. I won’t abandon them, no matter how much they hate me.”
      Melissa came riding up.  She had been scouting around Brenia’s outskirts, finding the safest approach.  She had heard our conversation.  “Anyone would be glad to have you for a partner,” she said to me, dismounting.  Then she turned to Jack,  “It’s safe for Jake to go.  The Aranara burned that entire section of the city.  Everyone probably thinks he’s dead.”
      Jack snorted. “There are such things as charred bones you know.”
     Alethea spoke up, “Jake, remember the fellow that was backing your mother towards the window?  He attacked me, and I stabbed him.  He was your size, and charred bones don’t have identification.”
      “You mean Jake’s ‘dead’?” asked Kaia.
       “Yes,” said Melissa solemnly. “Jake,  I hereby christen thee ‘Jake the Resurrected’, for you are recorded as dead, but you are alive.”
       I grinned, the others whooped with laughter, and they agreed that when we returned I should be properly shoved in the lake.
      “Alright, Jake,” said Jack, laughing, “Get ready to go.  I reckon dead people can go where they please.”

                                                                 
 
        The group was made up of about twenty people.  Even though Sarconians preferred to ride horses when they went down to the plains, all of us were mounted on unicorns, for they gave our small force a battle advantage.
       Melissa led the group expertly through the wood to a thicket that gave us a good view of the south-west side of the city.
       “I think the raiders are going to come out of that area.  They will go unnoticed until it’s too late for the people there to prepare their defenses,” Melissa murmured, pointing.
        I agreed.  The Aranara had always fallen on us, burned, looted, killed, kidnaped, and disappeared almost before we could gather our wits.
       We waited, our tension growing, for what seemed like hours, when suddenly the raiders leapt from the brush with a chilling
 war cry.  They started racing through the town, yelling and slicing into everything and everyone.
      We waited until all of the raiders had come out of their hiding place and then we darted out from where we were and went chasing after the Aranara.  It was bedlam.  Unicorns and horses neighing.  Dust billowing everywhere.  Men and boys yelling.  Women and girls screaming.  Swords and spears clashing.
       I could see very few of my companions through the dust, although I could hear them.  The yelling could have raised the dead.
I could dimly see Jack through the billowing dust.  He was fighting like a hero, ducking a slash on his left while parring one on his right and doing who knows how many other things at the same time.
       I heard a yell on my right and turned around.  A raider was heading toward me with drawn sword.  I drew my sword and parried several wild slashes and jabs before losing my balance and running my attacker through by accident.
      As I regained my balance I heard harried screaming and yelling on a side street near me.  I turned to see my old archenemy, Misty Johnson, a very pretty girl, despite being a brat, being fought over by two burly raiders.  No doubt they both planned to kill the other guy and haul Misty off as a gift for their beloved wife (who they would probably kill next week in a drunken fit).  They did this frequently.
     Archenemy or not, I was not going to abandon Misty to such a fate.  I charged the raiders, Thunder taking one out with his hornas I took the other out with my sword.  Misty fainted as I caught her around the waist and set her on the saddle in front of me. 
       I took her to a thicket and revived her.  The sounds of the skirmish drifted back to us through the woods.
 Misty opened her eyes and looked at me. “Jake Watson?” she gasped,sitting up.

“But you’re dead!”
      “That’s only what everyone around here thinks,” I told her, washing the blood off Thunder’s horn.
      “You saved my life even after I did all kinds of rotten things to you?”
      “After my mum died I promised myself that if ever I saw someone being attacked be the Aranara I would help them if I possibly could.”
      “Even if the person was your archenemy!?”
      “Yes.”
      “Can you ever forgive me for what I did to you?”
      “Yes.  As soon as the fight’s over I’ll take you back to your place.”
       “It’s not there anymore.  It was burned down the same day as yours.  With my mom and dad in it,” Misty added brokenly.  She looked up at me. “It’s true I tell you,” she sobbed, “They’re gone.  I don’t know where to go now.  I hardly escaped from the orphanage.”
      “You ran away from the orphanage?” I said, sitting down next to her.
       “Only because it was burning down,” she wailed.  Suddenly she flung her arms around my neck, buried her face in my shoulder, and cried as if her heart would break.  “Everything’s gone,” she moaned, “Most, if not all of my friends are either dead or captured by the Aranara.  I’m going to die next!”
 Nothing I could say would console her.  She clung to me like a frightened child.  I decided that what she had gone through must have changed her for the better.  While I was in this rather awkward situation,  Jack rode up.  I was glad it was him and no one else, for my friend had the kindness not to laugh at the scene before him.
       Misty eventually cried herself to sleep and Jack escorted me home.  The rest of the group would drizzle in later on, Jack told me.  Misty woke up when I was about half a mile from the house, but said nothing, only stared around her in wonder, her brown eyes wide.
       “Brought you a partner, Kaia!” I called as I rode up to the cabin.
 Kaia raced out onto the porch. “You poor thing!” she cried, observing Misty’s disheveled appearance.  “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
 I led Thunder to the barn.  The big grey unicorn nosed my shoulder gently as I checked him over.   I found only a slight graze of his flank, hardly noticeable.  I had treated it, given Thunder and the rest of the stock something to eat, and headed for the house before I noticed some pain in my arm and realized that I was bleeding.
 “Jake!  Why didn’t you tell me?”  said Kaia when she saw the blood on my sleeve.
 “I didn’t notice it until just now,” I told her.
 “Trying to be Mr. Tough Guy, hmm?” she smiled, kicked me gently in the shin and plunked me into a chair.  After examining the wound closely, she said,  “It, whatever it was, did more damage to your sleeve than to you.”
          Misty looked up from where she was sitting. “I don’t think I’ve thanked you for saving my life yet.”
 I smiled at her. “Your eyes told me.”

Tell me if I've misspelled anything or left out some words.  I've gone over my draft on the computer, but I may have overlooked something.

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume I

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume I

     When Jack shook me awake the next morning I was rested but could hardly move.

     "Ohhh, Jack. I hurt all over. Do I absolutely have to move today?"

     "Yes, you have to move," Jack said, grabbing my hand and helping me to my feet, "You need to work out the soreness. Don’t worry. It’ll get easier after today."

     I limped over to the fire, groaning and feeling about fifty years older. Most of the day was a blur of pain, but by the time we made camp I was a lot less sore, and beginning to think I might survive this after all. I discussed other things with Jack than what he should wear to my funeral, a subject that I think he was getting rather tired of.

     After that day things began to improve. By the time we got to the little, secluded valley we were headed for, I wasn’t sore at all and nearly ‘in shape’. Jack taught me to mount a moving unicorn, and helped me improve my shooting, (something we hadn’t been able to do because it would spook the herd). I grew stronger physically and mentally, almost without knowing it, though I distinctly remember Kaia being lighter when I returned.      A few weeks (or was it months) later as we were on our way back, my senses, now tuned to pick up faintest smell, the softest noise, the smallest flicker of movement, informed me that someone was near by. I was right.

     A woman stepped from the woods on our right. Unlike the other women I’d seen, her brown-blond hair was cut at the shoulder, and she wore a tunic instead of a dress. She scanned Jack and I with her piercing blue eyes.

    "Jack Breaker," she said, recognizing my companion, "How goes it with you?"

    "Quite well, Miss Gilthoniel," Jack replied respectfully.

    "Who is your companion?" she asked, her gaze traveling to me.

    "My name is Jake Watson," I told her.

She nodded approvingly, although I did not know what she was approving, and slipped silently off into the forest.

   "She’s probably been watching us," Jack told me, "no one sees her unless she wants them to. She’s a ghost in the woods, a mist that can vanish when it wishes. She sticks to the old ways, and can do almost anything. Even the fiercest of the Aranara are reluctant to tangle with her.

    "Those of us who live in the valley will have to start going back to the old ways soon. The Aranara have been leaving us alone, for the most part, but they are likely to start up their raiding on the outskirts soon. ‘Bad guys’ don’t stay undercover forever 

       "About sixty years ago it seemed that we’d wiped them all out in one of the greatest battles the mountains had ever known. But we know as little of the area that they occupy as they know of ours, so it is very possible that many survived, and we simply didn’t find them. Apparently we overlooked several hiding places, and an unknown number survived. A hundred sounds like a large number to you and I, but long ago, the Aranara were a numerous people, and are now it seems.

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume I

Finally.  At last I have found time to work on my story.  Time flies when you're on the computer.  It seems as if you've only started on what you want to do when...

"When will you be off the computer?  I want on, and you've been on forever."

You look at your family member, then at the clock.  By some strange magic the hands of the clock have moved forward further than you think they should have."But, but, but..." your protests die out as you pass out from shock.  Unconcerned, the usurper of the computer chair grabs you and dumps you on the family couch.  The computer is theirs....until someone else wants on. (At least, that how things are for me.  Okay, maybe I dramitized it a bit.)

      Contrary to my expectations, Jack found a way to get a vacation, and quickly at that.  The next morning he had his twin cousins, Anna and Stephen with him.

      "They'll watch the herds for us while we're gone," he told me.

      Even thought I was skeptical that a couple of ten-year-olds could keep their concentration on a herd of thirty unicorns all day, Stephen and Anna looked capable and confident.

      "Don't worry about the herd," Stephen told me. "Steven Tecal and his brothers are running their herds near us.  Any Aranara who tangle with Steven and his brothers are making a big mistake, and the Aranara know that just as well as we do."

      Jack and I stopped by my place to get me better equiped for a trip into the mountains.  Kaia, who had not been expecting me back quite that soon, ran out onto the porch.  "Is something wrong with the herd?" she asked, worried.

      "Anna and Stephen are with the herd.  I'm taking Jake into the mountains for a while," Jack answered her.

      "Ah.  Right." she said, throwing a knowing look at me.

      Jack and I rode deep into the Sarco Mountains, and it was dark before we made camp.

      Jack and Melissa were twins, but as I watched Jack across the campfire I could see that he was different from his sister in many ways.  His hair was as black as midnight, and his eyes were electric blue.  His sister hardly reached his shoulder, partially because he was over six feet tall, and partially because Melissa was rather small, though not as small as Kaia.

     Looking up at the sky later that night, I could see the stars scattered across the sky like diamonds on velvet.

      Jack shook me awake before dawn the next morning.

      "Go away," I muttered sleepily, accidentally hitting him with a wild flop of my arm. "The sun hasn't even started to come up yet."

       Jack grabbed his canteen, uncorked it, and let one cold drop fall on my forehead.  No one in the history of any civilization came out of their bedroll as fast as I did that morning.  I must have jumped a mile into the sky, spooking the unicorns, who looked at me and snorted, probably thinking that humans were some on the weirdest creatures on the face of the planet.

      "You wake up easier than your sister," Jack noted. "Melissa said she had to dump a whole canteen on her face before she got up."

       The sun was coming up as Jack and I finished breakfast.

       "We'll have to lead the unicorns from here on." Jack told me. " There are alot of low hanging branches, and it's a nuisance to be dismounting every thirty seconds."

       We walked further that day than I had ever imagined anyone could walk before we made camp, and I noticed with a touch of envy that Jack didn't seem to be half as tired as I was.  I fell asleep almost before I finished rolling up in my blanket, so tired that I would have slept with a snake that night if I had to.

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume I

This half of the chapter is sort of...well, it can be rather confusing.  Watch out.

      Things fell quickly into routine.  After about a week of working with Kaia I was able to take the herd out myself, leaving Kaia at the cabin. 

      We got up with the sun.  I went to feed the two horses, four unicorns, and two cows.  After the stock was fed, I milked the two cows.  The barn cats, sleek and fat from feeding on mice rubbed my against my legs, waiting for their share of the milk.

      By the time I fed the cats and got back to the house, Kaia usually had breakfast ready.  After we ate Kaia handed me my saddle bags, packed with lunch.  I went to the barn, saddled my unicorn, Thunder, and rode out with the herd.  Usually I stayed there all day.  At night I took the herd back to the home corral, ate supper and talked with Kaia.

     These were peaceful times.  Melissa and Alethea often dropped by, and I became good friends with Melissa's twin brother Jack.  Jack and I often ran our herds together.

      While we were on the high plains together, Jack began to teach me martial arts,  archery, advanced riding, and fencing.

      "There's a lady who lives up in the hills near Dragon Valley," he told me. "She's a master of fencing, and taught me.

      "There are still alot of things you need to learn, but I can't teach them to you with the herd around.  But leave it to me, and I'll see that you learn the things you need to learn."

      At the time, I had no idea how Jack was going to do this.  I knew that Kaia was capable of watching the herd I was in charge of, but I didn't know about Jack.  Melissa was almost always busy with her job as a scout, and Alethea was busy with the orphanage when the council didn't need her for some diplomatic mission.

     Let me point out, lest you get the wrong impression, that the Sarco Mountains were not a seperate country from the plains, even though the plains people and the mountain people rarely associated.  Both areas were ruled from the capital city of Stregillia, though the kings and queens had long since stopped paying any attention to what was happening in the mountains.

     The mountain people were not entirely uninformed about what was happening down on the plains however.  They had their information sorces, and knew the latest  news just as well as the plains people did.

     Even so, since none of the kings had appointed a govener here in a long time, the Council was the surpreme ruler in the mid mountains.  The Dragontongue family, to the north of us, was a different story.

     They did not consider themselves Sarconians, and thus were not under the jurisdiction of the Council, though, like us, they kept to the law of the land.  To the west of us was the land of Corvan.  It was a huge country, with great armies.  This is were Alethea came into the picture.  Being the superb diplomat she was, she was constenly visiting their leaders, making sure the alliance we had with them didn't fall apart.

     Our alliance with the Corvanie was to come in very handy in the near future, but none of us knew that at the time.  There hadn't been a major battle in the mountains for sixty years, and people were beginning to think that peace would last forever, a vain hope in any world. 

Ha!  Did I make that as clear as mud?  Tell me if you have any questions, spelling corrections, or sentence remaking to make things more understanable.

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume I

      Melissa and I said goodby to Alethea soon after we got into town, and Melissa led me off down a long street.  We rode about half a mile and stopped in front of a large log building.

      I knew Kaia the minute I saw her.  She was leaning against the porch rail with her back to me, her long brown hair wrapped around her head in a braided crown.

      "Kaia?" I said as I dismounted.

      She whirled around.  "Jake!" Not bothering to  use the steps she swung over the railing, landing in my arms.  She was as small and light as ever.

      "I thought I would never see you again!" she cried.

      "Kaia," I said, setting her down, "I think you better sit down.  I have some really bad news.  Mum's dead." Kaia sank back onto the steps.  "The Aranara killed her," I added bitterly.

      "I know,"she said, her eyes brimming with tears.

      "How could you know?" I asked.

      "I knew you would never leave Mum alone down there.  If you're here, she must be dead."  She looked up at me, "Don't get any wild ideas about going down south to get revenge on the Aranara for killing Mum.  They'll kill you." Her voice was choked.  "I've got a place about half a mile from town,"she said hastily, "Let's go."

      "What have you been doing?" I asked as we rode from town.  I was anxious to get off the subject of Mum's death, and remember her as she was alive.

      "I've been helping the Breaker family.  They've been breeding unicorns for a long time and their herds are so huge that they welcome some help with the herding.  I've been handling a herd of ten, but their a handful."

      Kaia lived in a small but cozy log cabin, and spent most of her time herding unicorns and horses.  Things stayed pretty peaceful, but the Aranara occasionally took the risk of stealing Breaker breed stock, known for their unmatchable speed.  Though these raids were rare, herders stayed with the stock, just in case.

There's no really good place to stop in this chapter, but the whole chapter is too long for one post.  That's why the stopping place I chose probably doesn't make any sense.  Hope you enjoyed. 

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume I

Alright.  To continue the story.

      We came to a high plain.  Up on the hill above it I could see that it stretched for miles.  I heard a thundering sound, but there was not a cloud in the sky.  Gazing down at the plain I saw a herd of unicorns.

      I have never seen anything quite as beautiful as a galloping herd of unicorns.  Muscles rippling underneath shiny coats, manes and tails flying in the wind,  an occasional spark flying from their hooves when they struck a rock.  Melissa came up beside me.

       "That herd belongs to my brother and I," she said "our family's been breeding unicorns for years."

       We trotted down the hill.  When we reached the bottom of the hill our mounts broke into a run.  We drew up as we came to the edge of the plain, and I looked down into the valley below.

      I had expected to see a cluster of small log cabins.  Instead, I saw a thriving city set withing a spreading valley, a lake sparkling near by.  The huge buildings in the center of the city were made of white stone instead of log, and looked like they had be bulit several generations ago, although they were still in good condition.

      "Sarconia City!" I gasped.  As I child I had often dreamed of this city, wrapped in the myths and legends of the plains people.  I realized that Melissa, sitting calmly on her unicorn next to me, was, without a doubt, one of the Sarconian scouts.  I had heard of them in the tales that I had enjoyed listning to, never dreaming that I would actually meet one of them.

      Melissa had turned at my shocked outburst.  "You know of this city?" she asked, surprised.

      "It's legendary down on the plains," I said.  "There are stories about it everywhere.  I never would have dreamed it actually exsited."

      We rode down a wide, well worn path that was carved into the cliff face.  Every fifteen feet the was a small, cavelike space about three feet deep carved into the shear wall.

      "When the scouts bring us news of Aranara raiders we position gaurds in the gaps.  The attackers have to run a gauntlet of good fighters before they can get to the city, if they ever do," Alethea explained.

      "I have a pretty good idea of where Kaia is," Melissa told me, "When we get into town I'll take you to her."

      "Thanks," I said.

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume I

      Soon after Alethea and I started out it started raining. The lightning lept from the clouds like white hot, many pronged forks, and the thunder crashed and rolled like a canyon rockslide.  The rain, driven by the howling wind, came toward us in waves, feeling like a bombardment of small paper balls.  It looked as if a giant was flapping a silvery, gauzy sheet.  The trees bent and thrashed in the wind, as if they were trying to snatch us and spirit us away.  Small branches were ripped off, as if by the hand of an angry giant, and hurled to the wind like missles, some missing us by mere inches.

      Alethea dismounted and I followed suit.  We took refuge in a small cave at the side of the trail, nearly soaked to the skin.  We built a fire and huddled close to it, trying to get warm and dry off.  The storm let up about the time we were dry.  Putting out the fire we started out again.

      The air smelled pure and fresh, and the sunlight sparkled off the dripping tree branches, seeming to coat them with diamonds.  There was an ever so slight brezee, and it carried the faint scent of pine.

      "It's beautiful but terrible at the same time," I murmured.

      "The mountains are that way," Alethea agreed.

      After two hours of riding, Alethea stopped, glancing around.  There was a soft flicker of movement to our left, and a girl stepped from the woods leading a gray unicorn.

      The girl had hair the color of walnut wrapped around her head once and flowing in a thick braid over her shoulder.   Her flashing eyes were like two purple stone glistening in the sunlight.  She was dressed in the same manner as Alethea: dark green pants under a flared sleeved, knee-length dress that was caught at the waist with a leather belt.  A quiver of arrows was slung over her shoulder, and she carried a bow.

      "Hey, Lethey," the girl said.

      "Hi, Lissa."

      "Did you get the message there in time?" Melissa asked.

      "Yes, but the didn't react in time, or listen for that matter," Alethea replied.

      "I'm not surprised." her eyes traveled to me.  "You are Kaia Watson's brother,"  it was a statement, not a question.

      "How did you know?" I asked, surprised.

      "Family resemblence is difficult to hide," she replied.  Melissa swung gracefully on to her unicorn, and we contiuned on our way.  

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume I

(Before anyone gets any ideas, none of the story I am writing is true.  It is fictional charcters in a fictional place.  Jake Watson is the main charcter and narrarator.)

       I suppose it all started the day I was hiding from Misty Johnson in the big lilac bush next to the marketplace.  There was nothing Misty loved more than her cat, Fluff, and I had been unlucky enough to step, quite accidentally, on Fluff's tail.  Although I had apolgized most profusely to Misty, I did not know of one thing that had been done to her, or her cat, for which she had not gotten revenge.

      So there I was, hiding in the lilac bush, sincerely hoping Misty wouldn't find me, when I heard the window above me being thrown open.  There followed a great amount of yelling, and while I was wondering what was going on, a girl landed next to me.  She landed lightly, as one used to jumping from second story windows, and this proved to me she was not Misty Johnson.  I had no time to think further, for the girl turned and saw me.

     "Who are you?" she asked, eyeing me warily.

     "Not someone who is going to kill me, if that's what you mean," I replied.  "Why were you jumping out of the window up there?"

     "I...I had some complications with some negotiations that could have been dangerous to my health.  The complications were dangerous to my health not the negotiatons, if you follow me."

     "I get you.  What is your name?"  The girl tensed, and her blue eyes narrowed.  She reached up with her left hand and flicked a lock of golden-brown hair behind her shoulder, keeping her other hand close to the hilt of her knife.

     "Why would you want to know my name?" Her voice reminded me of the ice that formed on the surface of Brenia Lake during the coldest part of the winter.

     "Just curious," I said apologetically.  "You look like a girl my sister spent alot of time talking to, two, three years back". 

     "What is your sister's name?"

     "Kaia.  Kaia Watson.  A trifle small for her age, but that didn't make her any less feisty."

      "Alethea Breaker.  I'm a good friend of your sister.  You would be Jake?"

      "Yes.  Have you seen my sister lately?"

      "Yesterday."

      "Is she well?"

      "Yes.  Quite well."

      "You people of the mountains are hated my many here.  What sort of message or negotiations were so important that you risked your life to bring them?"

      "The Aranara are on their way to attack the village," she said

      "But that's..." Alethea looked deeply into my eyes, "...entirely possible!"  I clapped my hand over my mouth.  I had meant to say "entirely impossible".  Then I heard yells from the north-west side of town.

   "Mum!" I yelled, crashing through the bush, Alethea right beside me.  Taking a moment to get my bearings I set off towards home at a dead run.

      As I came in sight of the house I saw my mother, a man with a spear pressing her toward an open second-story window.  "Mum!" I screamed, "Jump!"  she turned, grasped the window frame, and lept.  Suddenly a man reared from the hedge, and as I watched, frozen in horror, ran her through with his spear.

     With a cry of rage I threw myself at him, tripped, and fell flat.  The fall saved my life.  I heard something whizz over my head and bury itself in the wall behind me.  It was a hatchet.  I jerked it from the wall.  Turning, I hurled myself at the man before me, sliced his spear in half, and before I quite realized what I was doing I had buried the hatchet in his chest.  Twice.

      My mother died in my arms, run through by an Aranara's spear.  I was filled with a mixture of fear and greif.  I vowed that if I ever saw someone being attacked be an Aranara warrior I would do everything in my power to help them.

      My mother was the last of my family left on either side (exepting my sister)  so it was the orphanage for me for sure, and I was not happy about that.  I had no kin aside from my sister, I did not know her location, and I was not going to let myself get stuck in a orphanage or else I would never find Kaia.

      Alethea, who by now had taken care of the other fellow I'd seen, came silently up and put her hand on my shoulder.  Through my tears I could see her smiling sympathetically. "Can you ride?" she asked.

      "Yes, and I have a horse."

      "I can take you to your sister if you want."

      I was immensly grateful. "My horse is the brown one with the black mane and tail," I said, pointing towards the corral.

      "Looks like a good one," she said approvingly.  "I'll saddle him while you get ready.  The sooner we get out of here the better."

      I ran inside and grabbed my saddlebags, filling them with necessities.  On the way out the door i grabbed a warm, knee length, hooded cloak and my deceased father's gun and munitions.

      When I got outside, Aleathea had not only my horse, but her own, a black with a white star on his forehead.

      "Let's go," she said, and swung into the saddle.

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume I

      How do I begin this?  How do I begin to tell you of the ten years I spent in the mountains?  How do I tell you of Jack Breaker, master of fencing, Melissa, Jack's sister, skilled in archery, and do justice to all they did?  How do I tell you of my sister, Kaia, who, it might be said, brought me to the mountains, and her friend, Alethea, to whom no one could lie.

      Where does one begin a tale that seems so huge it could fill the universe itself?  I shall recount as best I can.

                                                     -Jack Watson