Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

Crystal stood in the center of the palace hall, motionless, watching as the messenger walked out the door.
It's not possible, she thought.  It isn't right, it isn't fair!  It didn't happen.  I can't believe that it did.  It's just a rumor, not truth.  Crystal continued lying to herself, trying to hide from the reality that had just slammed down on her head like a great, collapsing mountain.
What had happened to her up to that point had seemed like some strange dream.  She and her brother had been snapped up by the enchantress so fast that they hadn't even known what happened to them.  One moment they had been standing in the forest; the next they were standing in a strange castle.  Frantic exploration of their new surroundings had shown them that they only had access to two rooms of the castle; all other doors were locked.
Even when the enchantress began testing spells on them, events seemed like a surreal nightmare.  Reality had begun to creep in, however, when the enchantress somehow altered Walker's looks.  Until that time, Walker and Crystal had looked quite the same; same mahogany toned hair, same green eyes, same lack of height.  It had taken her some time to accept that the tall, frightened boy with dark brown hair and vividly blue eyes that stumbled in the door was her brother.
She had at first avoided him, terrified by his advances as he tried to sit next to her, hold her hand, or hug her.  When he finally spoke to her, she had screamed when she realized the voice was Walker's, then attacked him, demanding to know where her brother was.  Walker had replied that he was her brother, whether he looked different or not.  Fear had changed to anger, and Crystal, wielding a table knife, tried to push him off the balcony, believing that this strange person had murdered Walker.
Walker stopped her, but Crystal's inability to recognize him at all nearly broke his heart.  He carefully avoided his grief-crazed sister and found a corner, where he sat down and cried.  Crystal, miserable and confused, let him be.  Later, after Crystal had gone to bed, Walker slipped into the room and sat down on the edge of the couch where she slept, softly calling her name.  In the dark, without looks to confuse her, Crystal recognized Walker, asked him where he'd been and if he'd seen that strange boy who was pretending to be him.
Walker had then explained everything that had happened.  Crystal lit a candle and saw that what he had told her was true. 
"I'm sorry," she told him, "but you were running around in a different body, and I didn't realize it was you."
Walker had laughed and told her that when he had seen himself in a mirror he had screamed loud and long, then hid from the mirror behind a tapestry.  Hepsiba had been thoroughly amused by this and took the passageways with the most mirrors on the way back because they terrified Walker.  "That was why I was so frightened when I came in the door," he had said.  "Don't tease me if I spend most of tomorrow sitting in front of a mirror; I need to get used to myself."
And so that terror passed, and Crystal had slipped back into her dream state.  
Another jolt had come when the enchantress had tested a spell on Crystal.  Hepsiba, like most enchantresses, was determined to be the most beautiful creature in the world.  She had made a beauty potion for herself, but she was already good-looking, and sometimes beauty potions made people who were already beautiful very ugly.  So Hepsiba, seeing that Crystal was already good-looking, had forced her to drink the potion.  It had worked properly, to Hepsiba's delight and disgust, for she now feared that Crystal would be more beautiful than she.
Poor Walker had received quite a jar when Crystal had been slung into the room by the cross enchantress, stumbling into him and knocking them both to the floor.  It was only the day after Hepsiba had altered Walker's appearance; Crystal, not yet adjusted to her brother's new looks, had screamed.   Walker, quite stunned by his sister's ravishing appearance, had screamed as well, running backwards across the floor like crab and sitting heavily on the floor, mouth open.  Crystal had gone fumbling for a mirror, saw herself, and promptly went running for the safety of her brother's arms.  But the shock of that had passed, and they had adjusted to what they looked like.
Why the flying spell had been cast on them neither knew, but when the pegasus spell had been cast on Crystal, neither of them had been horribly surprised, now used to altered appearances.  Their escape to Elfarven and the rescue of Nibor had seemed like a fun adventure, as had the other events until now.  Suddenly, the dream had come apart. 
Crystal knew all too well that she could not adjust to Alec and Thera's deaths like she had adjusted to Walker's altered appearance.  Even though he looked different, her brother was the same person he had always been.  The looks of the Walker she had grown up with were gone, but Walker himself had remained with her.  Now it was different.  Alec and Thera were gone, and it wasn't a change in appearance.  They were dead, and Crystal knew that she would not see them again until after she had gone on.  It was a reality that she could not ignore; she could not slide back into her comforting dream world where everything was either right or would become so.  Suddenly, she was filled with an immense longing for her home, family, and a simple life without all the complications she now faced.  She just wanted to leave it all behind, though she knew that she could not.  Footsteps sounded behind her.  Blinded with tears, Crystal turned and flung herself into a comforting embrace, happy that Walker had come along at just the right time.

Argon was rather shocked when Crystal turned and flung herself against him, crying.  Not that he minded that much, but it was very unlike Crystal to act in such a manner.  He immediately knew that something was terribly wrong.  He became even more concerned when her grief, instead of gently quieting, began to accelerate.
The hysteria of her sobs left her gasping for breath, and she starting shaking uncontrollably.  Finally she drew a ragged breath.
"Are they really gone?" she asked.
Argon hesitated, wanting to tell her no, but also knowing that he could not lie. "They are really gone," he admitted to her.
She started sobbing again, more wildly this time, then buried her face in his shoulder, muffling broken-hearted screams.  He held her tightly, trying to support her slowly collapsing form,  not certain of what to do to help her.  Between screaming and crying, Crystal could barely draw a breath, and her energy quickly spent itself.  Her sorrow abruptly quieted as she fainted against him.
Picking her up, Argon carried her to her room and laid her on the bed.  Crystal moaned softly and appeared to have gone to sleep.  Tears trickled out from under her closed eyelids and she moaned again.  Argon dropped to his knees beside the bed and ran a hand through her hair, almost in tears himself.  Not even sleep is an escape from your sorrow, Crystal,  he thought sadly.
Walker entered the room silently and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking his sister's hands in his own.
"Is she alright?" he asked Argon quietly.
"I don't think so," Argon replied.
 
Crystal remained mute for days.  When she finally began to speak again, she was given to outbursts of anger.  When asked a question, her answer was short and cold.  If she asked a question herself, she would quickly become cross if she thought that it was not being answered properly or quickly enough.
Walker tried to do all he could for his sister, but much was demanded of him, and he did not have all the time he would have liked to devote to her.  Palace life was very slow for squires, however, and Walker had Toran look after Crystal to an extent.  He could have given Toran few challenges that were more difficult.
 Crystal often made it clear that she resented the presence of others, even Walker or Argon.  Any attempts they made to draw her out of her darkness were repulsed with short words barely controlled anger.  And so it was only expected that Crystal would resent the presence of Toran even more, no matter how respectful and considerate he was.  He continued to shadow her loyally, however, something that made Crystal all the more furious.
 
Crystal heard footsteps other than her own as she walked through the hall of the palace. "Toran!?"
Toran sighed and stepped out from behind a pillar, missing the days when Crystal's voice was gentle, for now sharpness never left it. "Yes, my lady?"
"Why must you continue following me?"  Crystal folded her arms crossly.
"Prince Walker told me to," Toran replied quietly.
"Well, I am telling you not to.  Go away."
"I cannot disobey my master."
 Crystal's eyes flashed angrily.  In the back of her mind, she knew it would be best to control herself, but the part of her that didn't care about what she did was far too dominating.   She slapped Toran and stalked off to her chambers.  A soft voice within her whispered softly that if she would simply admit that she needed support, her friends and family would be very happy to provide it.  But she still refused to admit obvious weakness, saying to herself that she was strong and could handle the matter herself.  The voice within her spoke up again, telling her that she was not handling the matter very well.  She ignored it.  Sitting down in a chair, she stared out the window for hours.
It was growing dark.  The door opened and someone entered the room.  "So, being angry and lashing out at everyone is going to make things better?"  Walker's soft, slightly sarcastic tone of voice echoed with truth; truth that Crystal didn't want to face.
"Why can't you just shut up and go away, Walker?"  Crystal asked crossly, not looking at her brother.  "You seem determined to poke your nose into my life, watching my every move.  And when you can't do it, you send your squire.  Leave me alone!"
"I am not going to do that."
Crystal jumped to her feet and whirled to her brother.  "Why not!?"
"Because this is not a time when you need to be left alone," Walker told her gently.
"And how would you know?" Crystal scoffed.
"What good has being so alone done you?  You've turned into an angry, sullen girl.  I hardly know you!"  Walker came over to her.  "Come out of your shell and accept some help with your grief."
"I am out of my shell!"  Crystal turned her back to her brother.
Walker put his hands on her shoulders.  "Crystal..."
"Don't touch me."  Crystal shouldered his hands away.
"Do you think Alec would want you to react this way to his death?" Walker asked, folding his arms.
Crystal spun around.  "SHUT UP!!"  She tried to slap Walker, but he blocked the blow.  Catching both her wrists in one hand, he held them in a vice grip.  Crystal began to squirm.  "Let go of me!"
Walker put his other arm around his sister's waist.  "Listen, Crystal.  You've acted like this long enough.  We are going to talk sense, and we are going to talk it now."
"You can't make me!"
"I can, and I will if it's necessary," Walker said firmly, deciding that he had held his peace for far to long.
"You just try!  I'm not going to talk to you!"
"Alright then.  Have it your way.  Don't talk to me, but I'm talking to you.  Now."
"No, you're not!"
"Listen, Crystal.  You know that Alec and Thera were followers of the Lord, just like you and I.  And for us, there is no real death in death.  They leave this world, but they go to be with the Lord forever.  You know that.  Would they want you to grieve like this because they have entered such happiness?"
Crystal avoided her brother's eyes.
"You know what I'm saying is true."
"Be quiet," Crystal responded.
"Ah, ha.  It's your pride, then.  The fact that you don't want to admit weakness.  You want to show us all that you can handle this on your own."
Crystal sighed.  Sometimes her brother could see through her like he could see through a windowpane.
"You know, Crystal, you're just making yourself look like an idiot by behaving like this."
"I am?"
"For the most part," Walker reaffirmed as gently as he could, his lecture finished.  He let go of her wrists.
Crystal laid her head on his shoulder and let the tears that she had held back for so long slide gently down her cheeks.  It made her feel better.  She had forgotten how comforting a hug could be and berated herself for doing so.  Walker hugged her for a while, then rubbed her shoulders and asked, "How long as it been since you went out flying?"
"Longer than usual," Crystal replied.
"Well, why don't you go fly.  It'll probably make you feel better."
Crystal nodded and jumped out the window, morphing into a pegasus as she did so.  She soared through the air, feeling her sadness fall behind her.  

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

Cadwallyder groaned in despair as the column of men in front of him crashed into each other and fell to the ground.  Would they never get it?  "Get up and reform!!" he yelled, his voice sharp with exasperation.  A mixture of groans and laughter drifted across the field as the column slowly reformed.
Cadwal paced back and forth, lecturing for what seemed like the hundredth time on the steps required to complete the maneuver.  Finally one of the recruits groaned,
"Do we have to keep on doing this?"
Cadwal stopped pacing and faced the column.  "No.  You don't.  You can leave right now if you want to.  But when war comes, you'll get the worse part of it."  Cadwal started pacing again.  "An army must function as a unit if it is to function at all against a well-trained enemy.  Donovan is giving a great deal of attention to the training of his men.  If he were not, there would be little need to train you, as you are already competent with weapons.   But that is not the case.  I have been in Donovan's camps and I know that his army is receiving some of the best training that an army can get.  Therefore, if we are to meet them in battle and win, you must receive training as well.  If you are not trained as they are, well, many of you will die on the field, and the rest will die digging the graves of their comrades or under the whip of Donovan's task-masters.  That is why I march you up and down this field until you think your feet will fall off.  That is why I yell at you until I'm hoarse and then get someoneelse to yell at you for me.  Because I want you to be an army that no other army can stand against; an army that is worthy of your country and your king."  Cadwal clasped his hands behind his back, drew his eyebrows together and peered at the troops.  Not one of them said a word or moved, so he decided that he had gotten his point across.  "Let's do it again, slower this time..."

Cadwal dragged tiredly into the room and greeted Argon with a deep bow that seemed more like an attempt not to fall over.  Argon quickly waved him to a chair.
"How are they doing, Cadwallyder?" Argon queried.
"Better," Cadwal rasped, sinking into a seat.  "Still rough around the edges and not moving as smoothly as I'd like but better than when they started."  His voice, hoarse from yelling, was barely above a whisper.  A servant brought in a hot drink, which seemed to revive Cadwal's voice somewhat.  "Once I am finished with this group, my work will, for the most part, be done.  They can move on and train their own units." He turned to Walker, who was sitting in another one of the chairs.  "How is it coming with the cavalry?"
"Very quickly," said Walker.  "Everyone up here knows how to ride, and cavalry movements come naturally for them, not to mention the unicorns."
"I wish I could say the same for the foot troops," Cadwal sighed.  "You Sarconians seem born to ride."
"Well," said Argon, "Perhaps we should have the Sarconian half of the army mounted.  We can do nearly anything from the saddle, so it would be no great difficulty.  Train them in the basic infantry maneuvers, Cadwal, but concentrate your skill on the Aranaran recruits.  They will be more adept on foot."
Cadwal nodded.  "That is a good idea."
 
 Fallen leaves drifted across the courtyard, pushed by a soft breeze that stirred Crystal's hair and blew a few annoying strands into her eyes.  She pushed the hair back, tossing her head.  The wind picked up slightly; Crystal felt a slight chill in the air and knew that fall was well-settled in the country.  She turned back towards the palace for her cloak, then stopped, listening, for the rumble of hooves was carried in the wind.  Hiking up her rust-colored skirts, she raced up to the parapet that stood atop of the wall of the courtyard, her leather moccasins making no sound on the smooth stone stairs.  The wind was stronger here; her clothes and hair whipped about her.  Shielding her eyes, she gazed northward across the valley.  A well-ordered company of horsemen was riding towards the city.  She rested her hands on the top of the parapet and leaned forwards, looking intently at the banners that led the column.  The wind caught them, and she could see the devices.  One was the banner of the Old Kingdom, and the other, to her delight, held the distinctive symbol of the Left-handed Warriors.  She turned to a nearby page.
"Tell the king that the Left-handed Warriors have come," she told him, trying to contain the excitement that coursed through her.  The boy dashed off, and Crystal turned back to the parapet, straining her eyes toward the oncoming group, trying to see either Thera or Alec.  The distance was still to far for her, however, and she could only see a mass of riders. The page came running back.  "The king wants you to go out and direct them on where to camp!" he called up to her.
Crystal turned, leaned down towards the courtyard, and called for her mount.  A groom was soon running in with Cameo.  The unicorn wore no tack but a light halter.  She raced down the stairs until she was level with Cameo's back, then leaped onto the unicorn.  The groom tossed her a brown cloak as she landed.  She thanked him quickly as she threw it around her shoulders, suspecting the timely arrival of the cloak to be the work of Toran, Walker's ever-observant squire.  She touched her heels to Cameo's side and raced out of the city.  Her hair, which had been in one long braid down her back, came loose and streamed behind her; her cloak and wide sleeves followed suit.  Some of the loose fabric of her skirt billowed in the wind.  Crystal grinned fiercely.  She loved riding at this fast, wild pace; Cameo's mane lashing her face and the steady pound of the unicorn's hooves matching the beating of her own heart.
Cameo reared as they halted a little in front of the leaders, neighing a greeting to the other unicorns in the group. Crystal pulled a strip of cloth from a small pocket in her wide leather belt and tied it around her head so that her wildly whipping hair was restrained to some degree.  The company stopped as the leaders came up to her.
"My lady Crystal," came the greeting.
"Head Instructor Trent."  Crystal bowed slightly.  "It is good to see you.  I extend the king's most cordial greetings, and his highness speaks for all of us here."  She smiled warmly.  "You are most welcome."
"Thank you," said Trent.  "Where would it be best for us to pitch camp?"
"Right over there."  Crystal pointed.  "Near the shore of the lake."
Trent nodded.  "I will see to it immediately."  He galloped off, calling instructions.
"Crystal!" one of the riders called.
Crystal turned.  "Thera!"  The girls urged their unicorns forward, closing the gap between them, leaned from the backs of their mounts and embraced.  "Ohhh, it is good to see you again," said Crystal happily.
"And you!" exclaimed Thera with her usual enthusiasm.  "We would have come sooner, but, well, you probably know how long it takes to get any amount of people mobilized."
"Oh yes," said Crystal.  "And Alec?  Where is he?"
"Over there, somewhere," said Thera, gesturing vaguely towards the now distant group.  "Trying to be everywhere he is needed and help everyone, in his usual Alecish manner."  She smiled affectionately toward the party.  "I'd better go and keep an eye on him.  He'll be so busy helping everyone else set up camp and get settled that he'll forget about his own gear until later tonight when he's so tired that he'll just shove it into a pile and sleep on it until further notice."  Thera smiled and shook her head.  "Well, pretty soon he won't have to worry about his camp gear because I'll be taking care of it for him."  She laughed at Crystal's puzzled expression.  "I guess you didn't know.  He asked me to marry him."
Crystal grabbed her friend's hands.  "Thera!  How wonderful!  He's such a kind young man!"
"Isn't he though?  We're getting married as soon as we possibly can, probably sometime this winter.  Oh, I'm so excited!"  She bounced in her saddle.  "I hope we can talk more soon; I desperately need you to help me plan my wedding.  But for now, I probably need to go and do my part in this camp setup and make sure my betrothed's tent gets pitched.  It'll be cold tonight, and he shouldn't be in the open."
"You'll be a dear wife," said Crystal, laughing.  "Alec's one very lucky young man.  I'll talk to you again as soon as I can."
"Alright."  Thera rode away toward to Left-handed Warrior's slowly emerging camp.
Crystal watched her for a moment, then turned back towards the city.
"Are they getting settled?" Sedge asked as she rode into the courtyard.
Crystal nodded.  "Yes."
"Good.  I'll go check on things later if Walker doesn't." Sedge swung up onto his unicorn.  "Well, despite some difficulties, Cadwallyder is bringing his recruits forward.  I was just about to go out there.  Would you like to come with me?"
"Certainly."
They rode from the courtyard and out to the trampled field where Cadwal had toiled to train the men for so long.  They halted a slight distance from the column, which was marching in a smooth rhythm.  A shouted order came from Cadwal; half the column marked time until the other half of the column was slightly ahead of them.  Then, with smooth precision, the column of fours moved into line of battle.
Sedge rode over to the line, which stood motionless.  "Smart work, Cadwal," he said admiringly.  "You certainly know your stuff."
"Thank you, General." said Cadwal, saluting.  "I do my best.  The real test will be later though, during battle."
"I have no doubt that the men will perform," said Sedge reassuringly.
"I pray you are right, General," said Cadwal.  He turned back to the men and shouted another order.  The line of battle moved back into column of fours.  The column marched briskly to another part of the field, then performed another maneuver.
Sedge turned to Crystal.  "If the entire army is trained as well as that group has been, well, they will actually be able to call themselves an army."
 
Donovan's army reached the foothills, and the Sarconians began to send out patrols to keep an eye on them.  From their reports, all was quiet in the Strianelian camps.  The tension eased slightly and the Sarconian patrols became smaller, for Donovan's general was not sending out his own patrols.  Much of the patrol duty had fallen on the Left-handed Warriors.  The mountain scouts of old had fallen almost into oblivion during the long time of peace, and the Warriors were the next in line when it came to wood-craft and stealth.
Alec leaned down and rubbed the neck of his unicorn.  It nickered softly.  The scout next to him paid the unicorn no mind, but skimmed the trees carefully with his piercing eyes.  Beside them, Thera dismounted silently.
"What's wrong?" she asked the scout.
"It's too quiet," the scout replied.  "There is something not right about this place."  He swung onto his horse.  "We should leave, and quickly."
Alec nodded and turned his mount.  Suddenly, a arrow whizzed down and struck Thera's unicorn in the neck.  It collapsed, dead.  Alec grabbed Thera's hand and pulled her into the saddle behind him.  Another arrow came down and struck Alec's unicorn.  It screamed.  The scout's horse panicked.  Rearing, it began to run away from Alec and Thera as the scout fought to bring it under control.  A second arrow downed Alec's unicorn.  Rolling free of the animal, Alec and  Thera drew their swords as a Strianelian patrol swept towards them.
 
The scout regained control of the horse and turned back towards his companions.  He could see that they were under full attack.  He knew there would be nothing he could do if he turned back and fought with them.  Wheeling the horse, he headed back towards Sarconia City, his mind set on getting reinforcements.
 
Alec and Thera fought back to back, but the numbers they faced were horribly overwhelming.  After what seemed like hours of fighting, they stood, disarmed and helpless, in the hostile center of the Strianelian patrol.  Alec turned to Thera.
"I should have never let you come."
"And what would have happened if I hadn't?  I would still lose you."
Behind them, they heard the sound of a sword being unsheathed.
"As it is," Thera continued, "We get to go together."
Alec slid his arms around her.  "I guess so."
Thera rose to her tiptoes as Alec leaned down to kiss her, the love flowing between them dulling the pain of cold, hard, steel. 
 
Sedge urged his unicorn to a faster pace.  From the scout's report, Alec and Thera were under attack from a fairly large patrol.  They drew up as they came to the edge of the bluff above the fight and saw Alec and Thera standing together in the center of the patrol.  A Strianelian drew his sword and stepped towards the pair.  Suddenly, a young man with a bow was beside Sedge.  A well-aimed arrow flew from the bow and struck down the man.  The Sarconians drew their swords and prepared to charge down the hill.  Right before Sedge gave the signal, a man sprang from the patrol below them and thrust his sword through Alec and Thera.  They slid gently to the ground.
"Charge!!!" yelled Sedge.
An angry roar rose from the Sarconians as they charged down the hill, bent on avenging the murder of their comrades.
 
The wild, chilling yells of the Sarconians came faintly to Alec's ears.  More acutely came the soft sounds of Thera gasping for breath.  "Thera?"
She smiled faintly.  "See you in heaven."  A faint smile came to her pain-filled face as she laid her head on Alec's shoulder.  The ragged breath stopped, and her body went limp in his arms.
With a whispered prayer, Alec commended his soul to its Maker.  Closing his eyes, he resigned himself to follow Thera into eternity.
 
The Strianelian patrol quickly fled before the wrath of the enraged Sarconian soldiers.  A medic bent over Alec and Thera in the clearing dust of the battle.  He slowly looked up at the gathering men.  "They are gone."
Sedge watched quietly as the men built makeshift stretchers to carry the dead, wondering how many more times they would look down an a friend and know that all they could do for that friend was give them a proper burial.

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

I must apologize for a few choppy sections in this chapter.  I'm having some trouble smoothing a few things over.

Crystal shifted a few of the pillows on the couch she was reclining on.  Her time in Corvan had been quite pleasant, for the most part.  Brian's fast action in repealing harmful laws had promptly won him the favor of his people.  The threat of civil war no longer hung over Corvan like a dark cloud. 
A dark cloud still hung over the castle, however.  Leonardo was spending his time sulking, and his resentment towards Walker seemed to grow by the hour.  Walker  had given Leonardo as much space as he could, but the matter had had to collide at some time, and it did.  Leonardo had challenged Walker to a duel.  Brian had protested, but Walker had accepted Leonardo's challenge, telling Brian that maybe if Leonardo lost his desired throne in a duel, he wouldn't feel like it was stolen from him.
Crystal was somewhat apprehensive about the duel, but she did not allow it to consume her.  She knew she had been trained by one of the best swordsmen in the known world until she could spar with him on nearly even terms, and she and Walker could duel for hours with no clear victor.
Crystal glanced up at the clock and realized that she should probably head down to the courtyard where the duel would be held.  She laid aside her book made a motion to rise, and the room suddenly exploded with movement.  She had casually kicked off her shoes, and now a maid sprang up to slide them on her feet.  Pages magically appeared out of nowhere, ready to deliver any messages she might send.  A servant came over with her cloak, asking if she wanted it.  She nodded, and the servant draped it over her shoulders.
She exited the room, servants trailing in her wake.  It had taken her some time to adjust to their almost constant presence.  She was nearly used to it by now, however, and generally ignored them.  There were already many people in the courtyard.  Brian was sitting under a canopy and beckoned Crystal to come over to him.  She sat down at his side.  Walker was nearby, swinging his sword in slow circles, loosening his arm.  Two squires were roping off the center of the courtyard.
At last the two combatants faced off.  Leonardo swung angrily at Walker.  Walker parried the blow, pushed Leonardo's sword to the side, and advanced in a swift offencive combination.  Leonardo retreated, trying to recover from the skill of Walker's attack.  Walker backed off, and the duelists began circling each other.  Once again, it was Leonardo who attacked, and he could still find no way through Walker's seamless defense.  Walker lightly leaped in and knocked Leonardo's sword from his hand with a few quick blows.
Leonardo stared at Walker, shocked.  "How did you do that?  How did you beat me?"
"I knew some things you didn't," said Walker.  "Good fight."
Leonardo nodded dumbly and walked into the castle.
Suddenly, there was a commotion at the end of the courtyard.  A messenger dashed in and dropped to his knees in front of the canopy, clutching his side and gasping for breath.  "My lord," he panted, "Eresna has declared war on us.  They are attacking the norther border as we speak.  General Ruthford needs reinforcements...now."
"How long ago was this?" asked Brian.
"A couple of days.  I nearly ran three horses to death trying to get here."
"General Ruthford will have his reinforcements."
The messenger nodded his thanks, still gasping for breath.
Brian began rattling off orders, and the castle sprang into action.  Brian sent a messenger to General Ruthford, telling him that reinforcements were on the way.
That evening, a message came to Walker from Argon.  Walker looked grim as he read it.  "High King Donovan has refused King Argon's terms.  Donovan has declared war.  His army marches on the Sarconian border.  I must go there.  The Sarconian army is still small compared to Donovan's; Argon will need all the help he can get."
"I shall go with you," said Crystal.
"It would be safer for you to stay here," Walker told her.
"With a war brewing with Eresna?  I will be as safe in Sarconia as I would be here."
"So stay here," said Walker.
"I cannot."
"I think there is something deeper here," said Brian.
Crystal blushed and looked at her toes.
"Well?" asked Walker.  "Are you finally going to admit how you feel about Argon?"
Crystal blushed even redder.  "I love him.  I feel like I should be with him during these dark times."
Walker shrugged.  "Have it your way, since you will whether I like it or not.  I'm leaving right after sunrise tomorrow."
"I cannot take the threat of Eresna lightly," said Brian, "But Corvan promised Sarconia military assistance in event of a war.  I'll send a few hundred picked horsemen with you."
 
Crystal walked swiftly through the halls of the castle.  Preparations for her and Walker's departure had started immediately.  She had been to her chambers, and Gari was now directing the packing of her belongings, so Crystal was sure that everything was under control.  Now she was helping her brother.  Walker's squire had fallen terribly ill a few days before.  Although the doctors were confident that he would live, his days as a squire were over.  Walker needed a capable replacement and fast.  Crystal had spoken with Walker's squire, and the boy had given her the names of three boys who might be able to replace him.  She was off to find and interview them.
The first boy was very nervous.  He was the youngest a squire could possible be, and, although Crystal could see a great deal of potential in him, he was not ready yet.  The second boy was better; Crystal thought she had found what she wanted, but she interviewed the last boy, just to be fair.  He changed her mind.
His name was Toran.  He had been a squire for an older knight who had recently died.  The knight had taught the boy well, and Crystal was pleased at the speed with which he answered her questions.  Crystal had decided earlier that none of the boys would know why they were being interviewed until she had made her choice.  The decision was easy; Toran easily outstripped his competition in savvy and intelligence.  The youth nearly passed out from shock when she informed him that she had chosen him to be Walker's squire, but he recovered quickly and attacked his new job with vigour. 
They departed early the next morning with the sun in their eyes.  Ebony was less than happy over being held back by the horses of the calvary that rode with him.  Walker and Ebony frequently galloped down the line to make sure there were no stragglers, then up the hill to survey the overall situation.  Cameo was quieter and did not demand the constant exersise Ebony did, contenting herself with galloping up the hill with Ebony every now and then.  Toran could have easily killed both himself and his horse trying to stay near Walker, but Walker was alert to the situation and told Toran to stay behind with Crystal.
 
 ~~~~~~
 
Argon glanced around the busy courtyard, observing the activity from the steps of the palace.  The courtyard faced north, nestling against the white stone wall of the palace.  The sliced-off oval shape was walled near the front, then gave way to sturdy pillars where the gardens started.   Directly in front of where he stood, at the furtherest extention of the courtyard, a fountain was built into the wall.  The gates of the courtyard were on either side of it; one facing north-east, the other north-west.  Both stood open.
"They're coming!" hollered Daryn from the roof.  He bounded down the stairs, taking them two and three at a time, landed lightly at the base, and bounced gracefully to his place behind Argon.  The young squire never walked unless he had to; he much preferred running and jumping.
Argon looked back at his squire and gave him a quick wink.  Daryn answered with a mischievous grin.  The pressures of the kingship laid heavily on Argon's young shoulders, and he often found himself searching for something to do to relieve his tension.  Daryn was always happy to help, and they now had a secret between them.  They had engaged in a stair-jumping contest in one of the less-used parts of the palace the previous night.  Neither had won; they had been laughing too hard to finish the competition.
Argon's swift eyes caught the flash of mail glinting in the party coming over the valley floor.  Walker and Crystal were with the vanguard.  The horsemen branched off to the army's camp, but some of the figures continued towards the palace.
The people in the courtyard cleared as the the figures dashed in.  They reined in their mounts near Argon. 
They have changed, Argon thought.  Both Walker and Crystal had more of an air of command.  A thin band of silver rested in Walker's brown hair, a sign of his rank of Heir Apparent of Corvan.  A Corvanie soldier behind them held the long pole that supported the standard of Corvan: a black panther on a purple background.
They dismounted.  Walker's squire, a Corvanie boy whom Argon did not recognize, took Ebony and Cameo's reins.  Walker and Argon exchanged a warm handclasp, then embraced.
"It is good to see you, my friend," said Walker.
"And you, Walker," said Argon. "Crystal?  You look well."
Crystal smiled.  "I am, thank you."
Ebony reared.  The high-spirited unicorn, feeling the mountain air and knowing that his home pasture was nearby, wanted to leave the courtyard, squire or not.  The boy bravely kept hold of Ebony's reins and managed to keep his feet as the unicorn dragged him about.  Daryn went to his aid, and soon the unicorn was dragging both boys in crazy circles.  Crystal released a burst of laughter, for the whole thing sounded like this:
"Agg!  Whoaaaaa!  Steady there.  Now, Ebony, there's no need for this- ahhhh!"
"Hang on!  I got him!  Yarg!  No, I don't have him!  Help!"
"I've got him, sort of, hold on.  Oof.  Really, Ebony.  Just calm down.  Hey, are you alright there?"
"No!  Ohh, owwwww....my toe...  Erg...PLEASE Ebony!  Stop it!  Ahhhhh!"
"Your toe?  My elbow!  Ouch!  Ebony, you are the most difficult unicorn a squire ever had to deal with!  You know that?"
"He knows it and is proud of it.  Ugh!  Honestly, Ebony, if you don't stop, we won't be able to unsaddle you and groom you and turn you out in the lovely fresh grass.  So STOP!"
This reasoning evidently made sense to Ebony, because he stopped trying to rid himself of the boys that held desperately to his reins.  Daryn stepped back and let Walker's squire move in closer to the unicorn and take its bridle. 
Daryn glanced at Argon, and Argon gave him a quick nod.  Daryn picked up Cameo's reins and the reins of Walker's squire's horse, and both boys headed for the stables.  The standard-bearer headed to the army's camp, and Walker and Crystal went inside the palace with Argon.  They headed for a sitting room on the east wing.
"Argon?" asked Walker.  "You look tired, my friend."
"Donovan marches on us, and what do I have to defend my people with?  It seems that we have an army, yes, but it's little more than sheer man power.  They have not been trained to function as a unit like Donovan's men have.  There have not been any battles here in a very long time, and there is no one with military experience.  I honestly don't know what to do.  Cadwalladyr and his nine friends have had such training, but I don't know if I can put the load of training an army on them."
"Cadwalladyr?" asked Crystal.  "That name in unfamiliar."
"Cadwalladyr is a deserter from Strianelian Army.  He came here with nine others not long ago."
"I have some people in my group that could help them," said Walker.  "And I would be glad to help as well."
"Very well.  First, I think we'll find those that are not familiar with the use of the sword.  Most know what they're doing when they pick up a blade, but some will not.  Walker, I'll leave it to you and Crystal to train them.  The rest will start  drilling."
"What plan do you have for the officers?"
"There are no officers yet.  We'll be looking for people with leadership qualities who can actually command to become officers.  I'd rather not have inept clodpoles leading troops."

...............................................................................................

I was given the Lovely Friend Award by GraceElizabeth.  Thanks Grace!

In passing it on, I have to give it right back to GraceElizabeth.  She used to comment on here before she got a blog.  I always enjoyed what she had to say, and now that she has a blog it has been very easy to create a friendship.

Kantare.  I consider myself privliged to know this young author who is on the verge of getting his first work published.  The conversations that we've had (thanks to the inventor of c-boxes) have been mentally stimulating and often help me get past a difficult part in my writing.

Luthien.  From speaking of the oddities of writing to the oddities of relatives and other more serious subjects, my conversations with Luthien are undoubtably refreshing and fun.

*sigh* So many lovely people, so little time, and so few words that one can use. 

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

Warning - Contains mild thematic elements and some tragic dying.

Argon leaned on the railing of the balcony, looking north to where the army was camped.  His words of a few months before came back to him. I never wanted any of this to happen, but I have no control over the events that have been set in motion. I will be a warring king, it is inevitable. How many people will I send to their deaths, fighting their own countrymen?  And will I ever be forgiven for it?  He sighed.  He still felt that way.  There had to be a way out of the war; there just had to be.  Why are we threatening war anyway?  Why don't we just secede and leave Donovan to go about his business?  What has he done to anybody?
Daryn peeked around the corner.  "Milord?  The guards caught a small group of Strianelians at one of the passes.  The leader of the group has asked to speak with you and is waiting with his companions in the courtyard."
Argon nodded, turned from the balcony, and headed down to the courtyard, Daryn trailing in his shadow.
There were ten of them, all dressed in the uniform of the Strianelian Army.  Nine were standing; the tenth was tied onto the shoulders of one of his companions like a pack.  He did not appear to be conscious.  Argon had originally thought that it was a group of messengers, but these were definitely not couriers.  Their clothes were torn and dirty.  They all appeared to be exhausted. 
"Do you come in peace or war?" asked Argon.  He guessed that none of the boys were any older than he was. 
"Both," the youth who appeared to be their leader replied.  "We've come to join your army."
"What lead you to desert Donovan?" Argon asked.
"He is a fake," the youth said in disgust.  "He pretends to be good and kind, but underneath it all he is a beast."  His companions nodded in agreement.
"Did you people carry your friend all the way here?" asked Argon.
"Yes."
"Will you let me take a look at him?"
 The boys parted and carefully laid their unconscious companion on the stone pavement of the courtyard.  Argon knelt over him and gently felt his pulse.  The boy moaned softly.  "What happened to him?" Argon asked
"What happened to him is part of the reason we left," said the leader.  "Our story will explain it all."
"He looks like he's been whipped within an inch of his life," Argon commented.
Grief and rage mixed in the eyes of the boys.  "He was."
"Daryn," said Argon.  "Find a medic and send him down here.  Then go get General Carzim and tell him that we have some people joining us."  He rose and turned to the leader of the small group.  "I would like to hear this tale of yours.  Are you up to telling me at this time, or do you need rest?"
"I can tell it now."
They moved a little ways away from the group.
"I and my friends come from various towns and farms near the foothills.  When news of Donovan's draft came we all had mixed feelings, but, for the most part, we were not opposed to entering the army.  They took us to camps and gave us various tests to make sure we were capable of service.  After that, we were divided into squads of ten."  The boy began to point to his companions.  "That is Trent, there's Fane and Saith, brothers.  We call them Flint and Steel sometimes because of all the sparks that fly between them, but they're true as Nymphs and good to the core. The others are Carn, Mael, Gwyngad, Ninian, and Kynon.  Our wounded companion is Jeston, and I am named Cadwalladyr, though most call me Cadwal.
"Jeston had a widowed mother and a sister.  He was their sole provider.  He went to the commanding officer and told him of his family, who was depending on him for survival.  Then he requested permission to go home to them, or at least be given a leave to arrange care for them while he was gone.  The officer refused his request.  While Jeston was trying to get a leave, the king rode in and asked what was going on.  The officer told him.  The king asked Jeston what his squad leader said about the whole thing.  So Jeston came and got me, I was the squad leader, and I told the king that I thought Jeston should at least be given a leave, if not sent home altogether.
About this time, Jeston's sister came to the camp.  She joined our argument that Jeston should go home.  The king, however, backed the officer up.  We continued to protest as respectfully as we could, but they would have none of it.  Jeston's sister finally began to lose her temper.  'How can you claim to be a merciful king if you act like this?' she asked Donovan.  The officer became angry and sliced her head off.  'It would be terrible to separate mother and daughter,' said Donovan.  In no time, a detachment was sent to kill Jeston's mother.  Then the king left.
"Jeston was furious.  He challenged the officer to a duel on the spot.  The officer threw him a sword, and he fought bravely, but it was skill against incompetence.  Jeston lost.  That didn't stop him from yelling at the officer, however, and he used some very...colorful language.  That made the officer even more angry.  He grabbed Jeston, tied him to a fence, and flogged him within an inch of his life.  We got him back to our hut later that night.  We had become a pretty tight group, and seeing Jeston all bloody and half dead with pain made us mad.  Our dicision to desert was almost unconscious.  I don't even remember discussing it.  The next thing we all knew, we were sneaking out of the camp and heading for the hills.  We've been on the run ever since.  That was about a week ago.  Jeston hasn't gotten any better; the elements have been less than kind.   We've been taking turns carrying him, but he's unconscious most of the time.  I think the wounds might be infected."
"Don't worry about Jeston, Cadwal," said Argon.  "Most of our medics have Elvish training in the arts of healing.  All that can be done for him will be."
Cadwal moved off the join his companions.  Conan came over to Argon.
"Is the boy's story plausible?" Argon asked his friend.
"From what I know of Donovan, yes," said Conan.  "That is why I have encouraged you to demand Donovan's surrender and threaten war."
"I do not want to make the first battle move," said Argon.  "Most of the people are still blind to who Donovan really is.  We must wait for him to make the first move, and all our actions, at least at first, must be defensive."
Conan nodded agreeably. 
"We must merely defend our borders for now," Argon continued.  "I've looked at the agreement between Sarconia and Strianel when they merged into one country, and we have a right to secede when we want to.  I have demanded Donovan's surrender because of the agreement between the Breakers and the ConRays, but I do not intend to press the issue until he becomes violent."
"He has become violent," said Conan.  "Killing Jeston's mother and sister...that was violent."
"It heats my blood as well, but it is not something to start a war over."
"You are confident that Donovan will make a move as soon as he gets your letter?"
"Yes."
Conan folded his arms and looked east.  "You're probably right."

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

The day before the coronation, they were surprised by a visit from Jenuel. 
"My Lord!" they gasped, springing to their feet as he appeared in the room. 
He greeted them, then motioned for them to sit down and sat down himself.
"I hear you are going to be coronated tomorrow," Jenuel said to Argon.
"You are more worthy to be king of this country than I," Argon replied quietly.
Jenuel smiled.  "My kingdom is not of this world, Argon; my kingdom is of another place.  I could rule this world if I wanted to, and no one would be able to stop me.  But Argon, when you become king, you will find that you will have two kinds of followers.  You will have those who follow you because they love you, and you will have those who follow you because they are afraid of what you might do to them if they are your enemies.  I want people to follow me because they love me.  That is why my kingdom is not of this world; if it was, I would not have the hearts of all my people."

The next day, Main Hall was filled with people.  The high ceilinged room was made entirely of white marble.  Near the walls, ornate pillars rose, towering above the polished floor.  Between the pillars were stained glass windows; the sunlight streaming through bathing the white marble with many vivid colors.  At the end of the room opposite the carved wood doors was the dais.  It was raised above the rest of the room by five steps.  There was one huge pillar on either end of the dais, and between these pillars were two thrones. 
Jenuel stood on the dais in front of the thrones.  He was dressed simply, as always, but a being of his bearing did not need rich clothing to help create the aura of command that he carried.  Crystal smoothed her dress somewhat impatiently; things were taking a long time.  She was near the center aisle of the hall; which was set apart from the rest of the floor by the fact that it was about an inch lower.  The edges of the aisle were beautifully carved, and one could trip on them if they weren't paying attention. 
At last the trumpeters announced Argon entrance, and everyone turned.  He tread the long length of the hall, mounted the dais, and knelt at Jenuel's feet.  Jenuel lifted the crown from a nearby pillow and brought the jeweled circlet to rest on Argon's head.  Argon rose smoothly.  Jenuel put his hand on the young king's shoulder.
"May your sword be swift, may your words be wise, may your dealings be just, may your path be smooth and may your line never die."  Jenuel turned him to face the people.
 At most coronations, there was always a great deal of cheering after the king was crowned.  But there was something different about this one.  The Breaker family had not held the throne for many centuries, and the fact that a Breaker was finally returning to rule filled the people with awe.  Like a wave, the people silently knelt.
Argon's eyes filled with tears, and he choked slightly.  He turned to Jenuel, who smiled encouragingly to him.  All these people, thought Argon, and they look to me to rule them.  I hope I don't do anything stupid.  He could feel eyes on him, and knew the people were waiting for him to speak.  "A new era has begun," he said.  "Let us pray it is a good one."
The tension and complete solemnity of the event was broken.  Tongues were loosed, and, like the rising of a summer storm, the people cheered.

 
Crystal sighed and looked down at the piece of parchment in front of her on the low desk.  It was almost covered in writing, most of it scratched out.  She read the part that wasn't scratched out out loud.
"That'll never do," said Argon in a tired tone.
Crystal was the only one in the room besides Argon who was sitting down.  Walker was leaning against a pillar, eyes half closed.  Sedge was next to him, looking as if he were asleep on his feet.  Cartagh and Charissa were over to one side with Sonarwyn.  Argon's squire, Daryn, an eager lad whom it was nearly impossible not to like, stood  behind the king.  Crystal shifted the papers about on the desk, adjusted the pillow she sat on, and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment.
"Do you want to give it another stab, Argon?"  she asked. 
Argon was trying to write a letter to Donovan, informing him of Argon's legal claim to the crown and announcing that if he did not surrender to Argon, Sarconia and Aranar would secede from Strianel and probably make war on her.  Unfortunately, things weren't going very well.  "Yes," said Argon, "I would very much like to stab it.  But I can't, now can I?"
"I'm afraid that would qualify as losing your temper," said Cartagh.
One of the great double doors at the end of the hall creaked open slightly, and a hooded figure entered.  He walked down the hall and knelt in front of the dais, throwing back his hood as he did so.  "My lord," he murmured.
"Conan!!" yelled Argon, springing up from his throne.  He cleared the steps in a single bound, pulled his friend to his feet, and hugged him tightly.  "What happened?  How did you escape from Donovan?"

They sat down on the lower steps of the dais, and Conan began his story.  "I was the first to surrender to Donovan.  He told me that he had been expecting a great deal of trouble out of the mountain people, so the swiftness of my surrender pleased him greatly.  I've been his squire for all this time, and I've been able to overhear a great deal.  Messengers have been coming from both Hepsiba and Menian; they seem to be developing connections at court.  Rumor reached Donovan of the army you have been massing, and he has begun building his own army.  He's going through the cities right now, taking all able-bodied males between sixteen and forty-five into his army.  He will move to the farms soon, though his plan for them is somewhat different; only those between eighteen and forty will be taken.  Some of Donovan's councilors protested this, but I'll say this for him; he's no fool.  He's leaving people to run the farms.
News has reached him of your advance on Sarconia City, and that is why I'm here.  He sent me to 'calm the rebels' and...I hate to say this, but...I was also sent to tell Tess that he wants to marry her."
"What?!" Argon exclaimed.  "Lord have mercy, why?"
"Donovan realizes that the Breakers have a claim to the throne.  He wants to tie the VenTal's and the Breakers together; he believes that then no one can dispute his claim or the claim of his heir."
"This is most shocking," said Argon.  He turned to his squire.  "Go get Tess.  I guess Donovan will figure out our plan soon, considering that you will not return to him."
"I don't have to, thankfully.  He has released me from his service and told me that I could stay in the mountains if I wanted to."
Daryn returned with Tess soon after.  "What is it, Argon?"  she asked after greeting Conan.
"Donovan has asked for your hand in marriage," Argon told her.
Tess's eyes narrowed in disdain.  "I could never marry him."
"That's what I thought you'd say," said Argon, "and it's fine with me."
"By the way, Argon," said Conan, "did I interrupt something?"
"Yes, kind of,"  Argon said.  "But it was a welcome interruption.  I wish Dillon was here.  We've been trying to compose a letter announcing our secession for some time now.  Dillon would know how to word it properly."
"Well," said Conan, "Why don't we look it over again."  He crouched down next to Crystal and read the draft of the letter.  "The gist of the letter is good," he said, "but it lacks the language that is used for this sort of thing."
"I know," said Argon, sinking back onto his throne.  "That's my problem."
Conan sat down cross-legged next to Crystal and picked up a pen and parchment.  "Talk it out, Argon.  We'll get down what needs to be said in common speech, then transfer it into something more regal."
Conan's suggestion worked.  Argon talked out the letter easily when he was not trying to work it out in formal speech.
"Okay," said Conan when they were finished, "First we'll replace 'I's with the royal 'we' and so forth..."  There was a scratching of pens as both he and Crystal did this.  After this they began looking for more refined synonyms for various words as they edited the drafts.  Some time later they had a satisfactory letter.  It was sent off with a messenger.
Late that night, a messenger arrived from Corvan with a letter for Argon from King Fredrick.  The letter was brought to Argon promptly on its arrival, and he dealt with it first thing the next morning.  Crystal watched him somewhat nervously as he opened it.  They all had every reason to believe that it was a declaration of war.  Argon's eyebrows shot up as he read the letter, and he looked up at the messenger.
"I have no idea of Prince Brian's location," he said.
The messenger looked surprised.  "But all our resources say that he is in the Sarco Mountains.  King Fredrick misses his son and is hoping to reconcile with him before his proximate death.  It was thought that you would know where he was."
"Well, I do not.  I will do what I can to find him, but I cannot guarantee anything."
"Argon," said Walker.  "Why don't you let Crystal and I go after him?  He is our uncle, after all."
"Alright," said Argon.
 
 Sonarwyn's steps echoed in the hall that was lit only by her candle.  There was no draft, but the candle suddenly gutted out.
"Oh, bother," said Sonarwyn.  Suddenly she was grabbed and pinned against the wall.
"Decided to go on a little escapade, did we?"
 With horror, Sonarwyn recognized the voice of the demon who had chosen her.  "Let go of me."
The demon laughed softly and placed her in a firmer pin.  "Let go of you?  No.  You're mine, and I'm not letting go of you until I'm good and ready."
Sonarwyn squirmed, but to no avail; the demon's hold was strong.  She tried to scream, but a hand was clapped over her mouth.
"None of that.  Hepsiba asked me to bring you back to her, but I'm not going to.  I'm going to take you to a place you will never escape from."
Sonarwyn shook her head. 
"Oh yes.  And then," the demon shoved its face into Sonarwyn's, "I will keep you there until you learn that I am your master."
Sonarwyn kicked it in the shin.  It growled angrily and pinned her to the floor.
 
Walker threaded his way back through the halls towards his chambers.  He and Crystal had spent nearly the whole day trying to track down where their Uncle Brian might be, and they had a good lead.  Suddenly a low growl and a thump came from a dark hall.
"Hello?"  he called.
There were soft scuffling sounds, then a frantic, "Walker!  Help!  Oh!  Stop it!  Walker!!"
He recognized Sonarwyn's voice, grabbed a nearby torch and raced down the hall.  "Sonarwyn?  What's going on?"  He rounded a corner and saw a tall man trying to drag a struggling Sonarwyn away.  "Put her down now," he said.
"No."  The man looked up at Walker, and Walker saw the completely black eyes.  "She's mine," said the demon.
"Not anymore!" yelled Walker, switching the torch to his left hand and drawing his sword.  "In the name of the Lord of Heaven, drop her!"
The demon reluctantly released its hold on Sonarwyn, and she half crawled, half lunged towards Walker, cowering against his feet. 
"Well," the demon laughed as it looked down at Sonarwyn, who was in tears from her fear, "breaking you won't be as hard as I thought."
"You'll never get the chance," Walker told the demon coldly.  "In the Lord's name, go!"  He threw the torch at the demon for emphasis.
"I'll be back for you, Sonarwyn, my slave," said the demon as it vanished.
Walker knelt down to where Sonarwyn was huddled on the floor, weeping.  "You are into it very deeply.  A bit over your head it seems."
"He'll be back," Sonarwyn sobbed.  "He'll be back and take me and...and...oh..."
"I smell demons," said someone from behind them.
"Yes," said Walker.  "One's been here, Cartagh.  It was trying to take Sonarwyn."
Cartagh crouched down next to them.  "And you got it to leave?"
"Yes, I think I did," Walker replied.
"Get her on her feet and take her to a well-lit place," said Cartagh, gesturing towards Sonarywn.  "If you can't get her on her feet, carry her there.  The demon is very close, I can feel it.  I'll go drive it away so it won't go bothering her for a time.  Go, quickly."  He grabbed the torch and went tearing off.
Sonarwyn pushed herself to a sitting position and tried to climb to her feet.  "I can't," she said, sounding rather scared.  "I can't get up.  My legs feel like jelly."
"The demon's doing, no doubt," said Walker.  He picked up Sonarwyn and headed for a sitting room.  The sitting room was as dark as the hall, but Walker quickly stoked up a fire and lit several lamps.  He had set Sonarwyn down on a fainting couch.  He considered going to get Crystal, knowing Sonarwyn would like the company, but he was reluctant to venture into the dark, possibly demon-infested hallway.  Thankfully, just at that moment, Charissa entered, sent by her brother.
"Are you alright?" she asked Sonarwyn, sitting down on the edge of the couch.
"I think so," Sonarwyn replied.
Argon and Crystal also entered the room.  Apparently they, like Walker, had been heading from the library to their chambers when Cartagh had intercepted them and told them a demon was loose.  He had told them where Walker had taken Sonarwyn and firmly suggested they go there.
"From the looks of things," said Crystal, "Cartagh is putting the entire palace under temporary lock-down; making sure that no one is in the halls."
"A wise decision on his part," said Argon.  "He does not have to worry about harming anyone if he and the demon end up in combat."
They stayed quietly in the room for some time.  Sonarwyn, frightened and exhausted from her encounter with the demon, went to sleep.  Walker, feeling slightly protective, covered her with a light afghan.  There was a loud scratching at the door.  Walker and Argon loosened their swords in their sheaths, and Crystal pulled a dagger from a hidden pocket in her dress.  Charissa leaped to her feet.  As she did this, it seemed that she had always worn a veil over her face and had now cast it off.  A ripple past from the crown of her head to her toes, changing her appearance to a degree.  Her dress seemed to be made of a foaming waterfall, and her hair was pulled back into a net of pearls.  The door creaked open a crack, and long, talon-like fingernails peeked through the crack.  The door began to open further, and the occupants of the room prepared themselves for an attack from a demon.  Then there was the nasty sound of steel on flesh, and a dead body fell into the room, revealing Cartagh behind it.  The demon    rose from the body and fled, screeching, from the light.  With a furious yell, Cartagh chased it.  They could hear him shouting at the fleeing demon.
"Run, you ugly, despicable instrument of evil!  Run!  If I get you I'll strangle you and tear you into little pieces!!"
Charissa smiled.  "Cartagh hates demons."  The body the demon had been in had shriveled into a lump no bigger than a book.  Charissa flung it into the fire, and it was consumed.
Sonarwyn, over who's head Walker had mercifully pulled the afghan, softly said, "Is it over?"
"I think so," said Crystal, going to the door and shutting it.  "Cartagh said he'd come and get us when it's safe, so we'll wait a bit longer."
Cartagh was not long in coming.  Walker and Argon went to their chambers. 
"I'm finding myself rather frightened," Sonarwyn admitted.
"I'm sure I'd feel the same way," said Crystal.  "Why don't we share a room for the night?  It'll be easier on you."
"You'd best stay in Crystal's chambers," Cartagh advised.  "The demon probably knows where Sonarwyn's chambers are, and besides, Crystal is protected by a Higher Power.  You will be quite safe with her."
The two Nymphs walked Crystal and Sonarwyn to Crystal's chambers.  Charissa drew a handful of water from a fountain, formed it into what looked like ice, and, with a single twist of her hands, turned it into a lamp which Cartagh lit.  "Here," she said, handing the lamp to Crystal.  "Demons hate light, and this lamp will not go out unless Cartagh tells it to."
"Thank you," said Crystal.
"I'm going to stay on the window seat here for the night," said Cartagh, gesturing to a window seat across the hall from Crystal's door.  "Don't worry, Nymphs don't need to sleep like humans do."
Crystal and Sonarwyn went into Crystal's chambers and shut the door.  The canopy bed was so huge that both of them could easily sleep in it without hardly knowing the other was there.  Crystal hung the lamp on the headboard and they went to sleep.

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

Argon looked carefully at the terrified girl in front of him.  Yes, she's the one, he thought.  "What happened after you ran off?" he asked her.
"I met the Lord of Heaven," she replied, her voice hardly above a whisper.  Her eyes searched Argon's desperately.
"Is she the one?" Cartagh asked.
"Yes," said Argon.
Both Cartagh and Walker laid their hands on their sword hilts, waiting for the signal from Argon that would end Sonarwyn's life.
"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Argon asked Sonarwyn.
Sonarwyn dropped her eyes. "Forgive me."
"Charissa," said Argon, "What do you think?"
"She is not innocent; executing her would be just, but she is no longer dangerous."
"If we were all subject to justice alone," said Argon, "we would all be killed.  Do not fear, Sonarwyn.  Your life does not end today, nor tomorrow."  He reached out and helped her to her feet.  "We contacted our last supporting lord last night," he told Cartagh and Charissa.  We are all joining at the School of Lore, so I'm headed there."
"If you are headed there," said Cartagh, "so are Charissa and I." 
They packed up the camp.  After a brief whispered conference between them, Argon and Walker mounted their unicorns.  Walker pulled Sonarwyn up behind him.  They set off at a swift pace, Cartagh and Charissa running easily beside them.  They cut cross-country and arrived at the School of Lore at noon.
A tent city had been set up around the School.  Sedge greeted them from the stairs of the School with a yell that sounded more like a battle cry than a greeting.  Tess was at his side; both wore mail.
"Is there any news from Crystal?" Argon asked.
"Not yet," said Tess.

~~~

Crystal's powerful wings kept her and Alec aloft easily.  She soared south until she saw the Nitrasia River below her.  Then she turned east to follow the river.  The sun was lowering in the sky when they neared the School of Lore.  She landed in the woods nearby and returned to human form.
"I'd rather not blast the news of my power all over the School," she said.
"I understand," said Alec.
They ran out of the woods and through the camp.  Argon and Walker came out of the School as they ran up and greeted them joyously.  
"It didn't take you long to get here," said Argon.
Crystal laughed.  "No, it didn't.  Is the army rallied?"
"In part," said Walker.  "We've been able to contact the southern lords, but we're not sure how to bring the southern army up without drawing attention.  We don't want to head to Sarconia City without them."
"Don't bring it up," said Crystal calmly.  "Just send messengers back and forth.  This army can come from here, and the southern army can come up at the same time.  You'll assault the city from both sides."
"What ever did we do without you?" asked Argon.
"Got along very well, I'm sure," said Crystal.  "You underestimate yourself, Argon."
 Sedge came up, accosted Alec, and they went off with Walker to look over the army.  Argon tucked Crystal's arm through his and they headed off through the halls.
"How are you doing, Argon?" Crystal asked.
"Well," he replied.  "Did you know Hepsiba had an apprentice?"
"No.  'Had'...that's past tense.  Is she dead?"
"No.  She's here with us."
"An enchantress here!?  Are you going mad, Argon?"
"No.  She is not an enchantress any more.  She's with Cartagh and Charissa."
"Whom?"

"Ah, I forgot you haven't met them.  Cartagh and Charissa are Nymphs from far to the north.  They picked up Hepsiba's former apprentice, Sonarwyn, a bit north of here.  She was fleeing from her mistress, pursued by a demon.  She's here now.  I'm taking you to meet her."
They entered a room.  A boy and two girls were sitting in it. 
"Crystal, this is Cartagh and his sister, Charissa."  Argon gestured towards two Nymphs with brown hair and green eyes.  "And this is Sonarwyn." 
A dark-haired girl rose from her seat and held a hand out to Crystal.  "Hello," she said. 
Crystal took the girl's hand.  "Hello."
They all sat down.
"You said you knew something of what Hepsiba is planning?" Argon asked Sonarwyn.
"Somewhat, although she has probably changed her plans now that I have joined you."
"She doesn't know that you've joined us," said Crystal reassuringly.
"Yes, she probably does.  She sees far.  She might give information to Donovan, if he pays her enough."
Charissa drew water from thin air and spun it in her fingers, forming it into different shapes.  "We should act swiftly."
"You are right," said Argon.
Sedge came in the door with Walker and Alec.
"Sedge," said Argon.  "how does the army look?"
"They're looking good."
"Can we be prepared to move out at any moment?"
"Yes, we can."
"Make the preparations then.  Alec, can you set out tomorrow to tell the Warriors to join us?"
"I can," said Alec.
"I'll tell the stable director to get you a mount," said Walker.
"Sedge," said Argon, "Send one of our swiftest riders south to rally an army there.  We'll advance on the city at the same time.  Most of the residents will join us, and those that are not with us will probably flee the city.  Cartagh, Charissa, go with the messenger and organize the army down there.  Stay in contact with us."

Cartagh, Charissa and Alec left the next day.  Crystal drifted though the halls of the School of Lore.  After two months of almost constant activity, she hardly knew what to do with herself.
"Crystal!" The call came from Tess.  "Are you doing something?"  she asked.
"No," said Crystal.  "Why?"
"Come with me."  Tess led Crystal to a room full of women and girls.  It looked like a quilting bee, except that the women were not sewing quilts, but banners.  "We've almost finished sewing the banners of the different divisions," Tess said.  "There has been a great quandary over what banner Argon shall ride under, but it was finally decided that he should go to war under the banner of the Old Kingdom.  Such a banner could be years in the making, however, and we seamstress's' were rather worried about having it done in time.    But a second cousin of mine who lives in Sarconia City hit upon a rare treasure in the vaults of the Palace there."  Tess found a package and pulled back the paper.  "This is one of the banners that has survived from the days of the Old Kingdom.  Legend holds that this banner was made by Princess Jennifer Bijan for her brother, King Derek, when he went to war against the Southerners, also called the Aranara."  Tess carefully laid out the banner on a large table with Crystal's help.  "It is worn, but still in good condition.  A bit of work with needle and thread and it shall be good as new."  The two girls sat down at the table and began to work with the heavy, green fabric.  "Have you heard Derek and Jennifer's story?"  Tess asked.
"Wasn't Jennifer the only Sarconian Queen to ever inherit the throne from a sibling?" asked Crystal.
Tess smiled.  "Yes.  You know the story then?"
"Not very well."
"Derek and Jennifer were the children of King Stephen Bijan and his wife, Sonarwyn, who was an Elvish princess.  They were as close as brother and sister could be.  After King Stephen's death, Derek took the throne.  Sarconia was threatened by the Aranara, and it looked as if King Derek would have to go to war.  Jennifer made a banner for him, by legend, this one.  Jennifer was a bold girl, and begged her brother to allow her to ride to war with him.  When he refused, she went anyway, disguised as the bearer of his standard.  She was captured and enslaved by the Aranara, although Derek did not know it until he returned to Sarconia City and learned of her deed.  Flung close to insanity by rage and grief, Derek led a wild mission to rescue his sister.  It failed.  Derek went out of his head for a time, but slowly regained his mental health.  A few years after Jennifer's capture, he set out to rescue her again.  The mission, this time led by a king in full possession of his mind, succeeded.  Jennifer was rescued but Derek was badly hurt.  He was unable to recover his health, and, a year after his return, he died. 
"Poor Jennifer was grief-stricken, feeling that Derek's death was her fault.  He had bequeathed the crown to her, and she took it up out of respect for his wishes.  But her sanity seemed, and probably was, badly damaged; her councilors feared that she would commit suicide.  In desperation, they sent a message to a childhood friend of the queen's, Andrew, begging him to come, hoping that he might be able to help her.  Andrew came quickly and was able to give Jennifer's nearly shattered mind the support it needed.  Jennifer was able to take up her duties as queen, and she and Andrew fell in love and were married.
"Soon after, the Aranara invaded again.  Jennifer, who had not remotely forgotten her brother's death or her own captivity, attacked them without mercy.  The Aranara were more than beaten to their knees, and there was peace for many years."
"What happened to Queen Jennifer?" Crystal asked.
"Well, being half-Elfin, she would would have greatly outlived her husband, but Andrew and Jennifer were very close; one was rarely seen away from the other.  When Andrew died, Jennifer felt that she could not continue her duties as queen, so she passed the crown to her son, Jeffrey.  After this, she was often seen drifting through the gardens like a ghost, oblivious to all that was around her.  Jeffrey walked with his mother when he could; her mind was still sound and, when asked, she would give him wise advice.  But she soon faded with grief for her husband.   One day she told her son that she was going.  When he asked where, she replied, "Home.  To my God, and to my lord, Andrew."  She had often referred to Andrew as her lord.  Then she calmly told Jeffery not to spend to much time weeping for her because, after all, why cry for someone who is going home?  Then she went out, sat down on her favorite bench in the garden, and there she died."
"Why was the Bijan name not lost then?" asked Crystal.
"Because, by tradition, if a king died without an heir to carry on his family's name and if there was no brother who's children would carry on the family name, the king's sister's firstborn, instead of having his father's family's name, would have the family name of his uncle.  That way the name would not be lost.  So Jeffrey carried the name 'Bijan'."
"I see.  That is quite a tale."
"It is."
 Crystal and Tess carefully mended the banner over the next few days.  At last it was finished.  It was a beautiful piece.  The dark green fabric of the background was only slightly faded, and the faded lines seemed only to add to the banner's glory.  The white unicorn had been worked into the very weave of the fabric, but it was outlined with pearls and the hooves and horn were entirely embroidered in slender, silver beads.  The wreath of dawnflowers  around the unicorn's neck was of rubies and emeralds.  The design had been repeated on the opposite side.  Both girls could not have been more proud to present it to Argon.  It was placed on a long, carved pole and furled, waiting that message from Cartagh and Charissa saying that they were ready.

The message was not long in coming.  When it arrived, the army was swiftly mobilized under Sedge's expert supervision.  Crystal dressed for war, though they all hoped and expected that the city would surrender peacefully.  To occupy herself, Crystal had spent hours polishing and sharpening her sword, Margarites.  Now she drew it from its sheath and was happy to see that it was in perfect condition.  After tightening the laces of her molded leather corset slightly, she buckled the sword around her waist.  She put on her traveling cloak and slung her bow and quiver over her back.  Her baggage had been packed and placed with the baggage train earlier.  She went out the door, trying to control her excitement.  She would be riding in the vanguard of the army.  Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself, bringing her emotions under control so that she would be able to think clearly.
The vanguard was waiting at the bottom of the front steps.  She and Argon were the the only ones who had not yet arrived.  Grooms were holding their unicorns.  Crystal took the reins of her mount and leaped lightly into the saddle.  Walker sat quietly on his unicorn, an enormous sword slung over his shoulder instead of a bow and quiver.  Sedge was beside him, a double-bladed ax on his back.  The banner snapped in the wind overhead.  Argon came bounding down the stairs, took a flying leap, and landed on Dawn's back.
"Let's go!"  he called, wheeling Dawn, and raced away towards the ranks of the army.  The others followed him.  They slowed as they neared the ranks and turned to ride parallel to them as they made their way to the front of the army.   The men cheered as they cantered past, a brave show of flashing mail and weapons.
They reached the edge of the city on the afternoon of the next day and camped.  They could see the campfires of the southern army on the other side of the city.  The people who's allegiance was with Donovan were leaving the city, terrified.   The next morning, Argon sent a message to the leaders of the town, politely requesting that they surrender the city.  They complied most cheerfully, and Argon and his entourage were welcomed with open arms.
 As the vanguard rode through the streets, people pressed towards them excitedly.  Those in the vanguard who were close to Argon made sure their weapons were in easy reach, fearing an assassination attempt.  But there were none.  They rode up to the palace amidst joyful shouts.  Argon was graciously welcomed by the steward of the palace.  "The palace and its staff are at your disposal, my lord," said the steward.
Argon thanked him.   Sedge rode out to the army along with most of the vanguard, but Crystal and Walker stayed at the palace with Argon.  The staff eagerly did everything they could to make them comfortable.  Crystal was ushered into a room by chattering maids who helped her dress and did her hair before she went down to enjoy a scrumptious dinner.  During the evening, Crystal and the others were lavished with so much attention that they hardly knew what to do with themselves.  Crystal soon found herself in a soft chair with a cushion under her feet and a goblet of spiced cider in her hand.  The others fared similarly.  Argon quietly dismissed the servants, and they settled down to talking.  It was decided that Argon's coronation would be as soon as possible.  They retired late that night.

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

Author's note - This chapter deals slightly with demons and lightly touches demon possesion, but it doesn't get too dark. 

Sonarwyn glided eagerly through the halls of her mistress's castle.   Hepsiba had said the she had a special assignment for her.  Sonarwyn was merely sixteen, young for an enchantress, and she was amazed that her mistress considered her prepared for an assignment already.  Sonarwyn came into Hepsiba's chambers, and the senior enchantress turned to her student with a smile that was almost kind.
"Good evening, Sonarwyn," she said.
"Good evening, Mistress.  You said you had something for me to do?"
 Hepsiba looked into the fire.  "I suppose you know by now that I have a demonic companion."
"Yes."  This seemed off the subject, but Sonarwyn knew better than to question why her mistress was saying what she was.
"There is a demon interested in being your companion, Sonarwyn."
"Really?!"  Sonarwyn was shocked.  Gaining the notice of a demon was rare, and even rarer was the demon deciding to become your companion.  Once it had chosen you, you had to provide it with someone or something to posses, and then it would stay near you and lend you its power. 
"Yes.  I have never known an enchantress so young to be noticed already."
"But I have noticed her already," said a voice that would have been normal except for a icy undercurrent.  What stepped from the shadows of the chamber would have been a man, except that the eyes were totally black voids: a sign that this body was not the demon's true form, but someone it had decided to posses.  It came over to Sonarwyn and put a hand under her chin.  "You have great skill, my young enchantress.  If you complete the mission your mistress assigns you, I will be your companion."
"What is the assignment?" Sonarwyn asked.
"Argon Breaker and his friend, Walker Firestone, are out gathering support," said Hepsiba.
"Almost everyone thinks that Argon surrendered to the High King," said the demon, "But we know better, don't we?"  It slid an arm around Sonarwyn's waist.
Sonarwyn nodded.  It had been a easy thing to see through her Art.
"I want you to stop them," Hepsiba continued.  "Kill them and anyone with them."
"When do I leave?"
Hepsiba smiled.  "Arrangements have already been made.  A horse is waiting for you by the drawbridge."
"Come, my dear," said the demon.  "I shall walk you there."
They walked through the castle halls, the demon's arm around still her waist.
"I wonder where Argon is," Sonarwyn asked herself as they neared where her horse was waiting.
"Not far south of the School of Lore," the demon told her.  "Put the reigns of your horse over your arm."
Sonarwyn did so.  The demon pulled her against it in a crushingly tight embrace.  Sonarwyn felt that she could hardly breathe, and everything was blurry.  Before she passed out, however, the embrace loosened, and she found that the enchantress's castle was nowhere to be seen.  Sonarwyn realized that she and her horse had just been teleported.
"Argon is about two miles from here," said the demon.
Sonarwyn tried to steady herself, but things were still a bit blurry, and she felt tipsy.
"You humans never teleport very well," the demon said, holding her up.
Finally Sonarwyn thought she had regained herself, but when she tried to walk, everything spun.  "This is infuriating!" she cried in frustration.
"It will pass."
Slowly the dizziness subsided.  Sonarwyn mounted her horse.
"I shall be waiting at the castle for you," the demon told her.  It vanished.
Sonarwyn looked around and saw campfire smoke.  She turned her horse towards it.
 
Sonarwyn crept closer to the camp.  Two boys sat by a small fire, apparently oblivious that she was coming up on them.  She prepared to fling her magic against them and kill them, but there was a strange barrier around them of a type she did not recognize.  She might be able to break through it, but it would sap a dangerous amount of strength.   She would have to get closer.
She came silently forwards, and when she was almost at the fire, one of the boys noticed her.
"Argon!" he yelled, jumping to his feet. "Behind you!"
Sonarwyn tackled Argon's companion and lifted her hand, preparing to use magic to end the boy's life.  But suddenly, she began to feel nauseated and found that the nausea was creating a barrier between her and the magic.  She leaped off him, and the nausea subsided.  She flung her hands in the air, calling more of the the demons to aid her.  They came; the power filled her, throbbing through her very blood.
"En ton onoma fon ton Kurios fon Ouranos, apeimi!"  thundered Argon.
The demons fled, and the power drained from her.  Sonarwyn snarled at Argon.   She had recognized the Elvish and knew that he had sent the demons away in the name of the Lord of Heaven.  She immediately understood why her magic had failed to work on Argon and his companion; they served the Lord of Heaven.  There was no name she hated worse than the name of the Lord.  Hatred for Him and all who served Him filled her, giving her strength.  She drew her sword and attacked.
The battle did not last long.  Sonarwyn soon found herself without her sword.  Using her strength to call on the now distant demons, she prepared to cast a spell on herself that would allow her to disappear.  She felt the power drift to her and uttered the spell.  From the expressions on the boy's faces, she knew it had worked.  Pulling out her dagger, she leaped at Argon.  He grunted in pain as her dagger grazed his arm.
"En ton Onoma, apeimi!" shouted Walker.
For the second, infuriating time, Sonarwyn felt the power leave her, and the spell lifted.  Argon pushed her almost effortlessly back.  She stumbled and sat down hard.
"It seems you had a mission to kill us," said Argon.  "You have failed.  Now what?"
Sonarwyn gathered what strength she had left and fled.  She ran through the forest, the brush tearing at her clothes.  Finally, she tripped, fell and found herself lacking the strength to rise.  Slowly, she found her anger being replaced by fear.  She had failed.  Her mistress would be furious with her, and Hepsiba had been known to kill in her fury.
Then she felt a presence.  It hurt her and nauseated her.  A bright light spilled over her and she rolled away from it, curling against a log.  The presence came closer and Sonarwyn was filled with terror; there was no escape.  She put her arms over her face and curled as close to the log as she could.
"Sonarwyn," said a great voice.
She screamed.  Nothing that she had ever heard in her life had been as terrifying as the way this person spoke her name.
"Look at Me, Sonarwyn."  
Sonarwyn lowered her arms.  She dared not disobey.  The face she saw was wise and kind, but stern.
"Is this what you really want?"
Sonarwyn could do nothing but tremble.
"Come back to Me, and leave it all behind.  It will not be easy, but you will be at peace and find joy."  The presence was gone.
"Silly little enchantress," taunted a demon who now came near.  "Silly, silly.  Let me take you, posses you.  You will be powerful and kill the other enchantress!"
Come back to Me.  The voice echoed in Sonarwyn's mind.  "Who was He?"she asked.
"We all hate Him, hate Him, hate Him!  He is the Lord of Heaven.  He wants you.  But you will not be a powerful enchantress if you give yourself to Him!"  The demon wrapped itself around Sonarwyn's leg.  "Give yourself to me and you will be powerful."
Powerful... Her entire life after being taken in by Hepsiba as the enchantress' apprentice had been centered around becoming more powerful.  But now her powers had been thwarted by people who knew next to nothing about magic, and, for the first time in years, Sonarwyn began to doubt herself.  She looked into her own future and saw herself becoming more and more powerful, killing her mistress and taking her place.  The name Sonarwyn  would be feared, whispered reverently in corners.  Her armies would be the greatest in the world.  Kings would fall at her feet and beg for mercy.  She would rule the world; all would fear her, and that was where her doubt began to creep in.  Yes, all would fear her, but few, if any, would follow her out of love and loyalty; they would all be too fearful.  When that fear turned to anger, someone might kill her, and who would mourn her passing?  No one.  She would be powerful, but she would be alone.  "Will I find peace or joy?" she asked, though her heart already knew the answer was 'no'.
The demon was silent. 
Power or joy.  Both tugged furiously at her, but one finally won over.  "I will go to Him," Sonarwyn said firmly, rising to her feet.  
"No, no, no, no.  Silly, silly."  The demon grabbed her and she found herself teleported to somewhere she did not recognize.  "Find Him now!" laughed the demon.
Sonarwyn gazed up at the stars, trying to find her bearings.  By the position of the stars, she decided, she on the lower slopes of Mt. Rindava, directly southeast of Rindara.  She had to go south and a little east.  She started out.  
The demon followed her, babbling on in a maddening way.  It had taken on a small shape.  Sometimes it would run ahead, sometimes it was so far behind that she thought it was gone, and sometimes it was right next to her, hanging on her leg or arm, laughing in a rather hysterical manner.  As Sonarwyn's steps became ever more purposeful, the demon's laughter faded.  At last it snarled angrily and began attacking Sonarwyn's mind, trying to posses her.
They spent the rest of the night in combat.  Sonarwyn found that, for all her magic, she had no power over the demon.  Using magic against it only made it more powerful.  It was all she could do to shield her mind and resist it.  Just when she was about to give up, the sun rose, sending a ray of light over her.  The demon fled from the light.  Sonarwyn realized that she had until nightfall to get as far as possible, given that her mistress did not come after her.
She began to run.  Hunger washed over her, but she threw the thought aside as best she could.  Her feet pounded against the ground.  Stopping briefly by a stream, she drank some water and found a wild herb that was known to stem hunger pangs.  She put some of the leaves in her belt and chewed on some more of them as she ran on.  Towards the end of the day, a cliff loomed up in front of her.  Grabbing her dress partway down, she tucked it into her belt, making it a little above knee length.  Then she started climbing.  The rocks cut her hands, but she summoned her will and made it to the top alive just as dark enveloped the land.
"The little enchantress is still going, hmm?"
The demon was back.
"Go away," said Sonarwyn.  "I want to sleep."
"No, no.  I'm not going away.  Give yourself over!"
"No!"
The demon sprang at her.  They were locked in combat until a silvery light came over both of them.  The demon skittered off, and Sonarwyn looked up to see a fairy.
"Have I seen you before?"  They fairy's eyes were locked on Sonarwyn.
"I think you may have." The fairy looked familiar.  "Have you ever been in Hepsiba's castle?" Sonarwyn asked somewhat shyly.
"Yes, she tried to train me as her apprentice," the fairy replied.
"N-Nibor?" said Sonarwyn, stunned.  "But you're an Elf!"
"Half actually.  At full moon I change.  That's why I'm so short."
"Oh.  Why are you out here and where am I?  I'm scared and there a demon chasing me."  Sonarwyn dumped all this out in a rather miserable manner.
"The Lord of Heaven led me here.  I think we are a bit north of Mt. Rindava."
"The Lord of Heaven?  But...I'm a former enchantress and-"
"Former?" Nibor interrupted.  "But I thought you wanted to be an enchantress."
Sonarwyn sighed.  "Yes.  But not anymore.  There's no future for me there.  But that life is hold me.  I'm being followed by a demon that wants to process me!"
"Process?  But that-"
"I mean progress...pay less...posses!  It wants to posses me."  Sonarwyn yawned widely.
"You need some sleep," said Nibor.  "Here, I'll build a fire to keep the demon away.  And I'll stay with you for as long as you need me."
"Thank you.  It's been so long since I frepped...uh...slept..." Sonarwyn's eyes fell shut and she went limp on the ground.
Nibor flew around, gathered some logs and kindling and started a fire in a small cave nearby.  She got some leaves and branches and made a bed for herself and a bed for Sonarwyn by the fire.  After laying Sonarwyn on a leaf-bed, she went to sleep herself.
The demon lurked about the furthest reaches of the light from the fire, growling.  "Mine, Sonarwyn...you are mine," it hissed, slavering.
"Stay back from her," said a cold voice.  The demon that had chosen Sonarwyn as its companion came from the shadows.  "She is mine."
The smaller demon cowered away from him.  "Yesss, yesss, of course."  It groveled most apologetically.  "But let me get her for you.  Save you the trouble...master?"
"Very well.  Get her.  But if you fail and one of the servants of the Lord comes after you, you will get no help from me."
"Underssstood, yesss.  I get her...for you.  No failure."
"No failure.  Or else."  The other demon vanished.
The small demon sank against the ground.  "Oh dear.  He is so powerful...must not fail...will die.  Will worse than die!  Oh dear.  I need a plan." 
 
Nibor left Sonarwyn at sunrise the next morning, and the girl continued on.  Nibor had wanted to stay with her, but Sonarwyn feared that her mistress would come for her and did not want to put her new-found friend in that danger.  Her hands were hurting terribly, not to mention the rest of her.  She came under the shadow of a cliff, and the demon sprang out and grabbed at her.  She leaped away, lost her footing, and rolled down a hill.  She lay motionless for a moment, eyes closed, but as she prepared to get up, she felt the cold steel of a sword against her throat.  She slowly opened her eyes.
Two people stood over her, a boy and a girl, alike as nature could allow them to be.  The boy held his sword near Sonarwyn's throat, and the girl had an arrow trained on her.  Sonarwyn heard snarling and saw the demon lurking in the shadows.
"A enchantress and her demonic companion," said the boy in an stiff tone that would be called icy, save that it was burning hot like blue fire.    His green eyes hardened with disdain and his fingers flexed on his sword hilt, as if considering driving the blade through Sonarwyn's throat.
"No," said Sonarwyn.  "A former enchantress and her demonic tormentor."
"I've heard better stories than that, enchantress."  The sword pressed against Sonarwyn's skin.  She drew back from it as best she could.
"Steady, Cartagh," said the girl in a voice that was as soothing as running water.  "Do not kill in your anger."
"Please.  I'm not an enchantress.  I seek the Lord of Heaven."
"Why do you seek him?" the girl asked, tossing her head slightly to throw a brown lock of hair out of her face.  Her tone was no more kind than that of her companion, but it was still inquisitive.
"I saw him...night before last.  He said he could give me peace."
The boy's eyes softened mildly, though the change was nearly imperceptible.  The blade of the sword was withdrawn slightly from Sonarwyn's throat.
"Silly!" screamed the demon from the shadows.  "Don't go with them!"  It attacked Sonarwyn's mind violently.  She fought back as hard as she could, but darkness began to envelop her.  Suddenly, it seemed that cool water rushed into her mind, washing out the darkness.  Sonarwyn went unconscious.
 
When she awoke, the girl was sitting beside her, bandaging her hand.
"I am Charissa," said the girl.  "The one who held his sword on you is Cartagh, my twin brother.  We are Nymphs from the mountains north of the Zentora River, which is north of Elfarven.  You need no longer fear Cartagh's  wrath.  When the demon attacked you, we realized that you were telling the truth.  Cartagh is gone, dealing with the demon.  He will be back soon."
"I am Sonarwyn, formally the student of the enchantress Hepsiba."
"How did you run afoul of your mistress?"
"I failed in a mission.  I'd rather not talk about it."
"Very well."
Cartagh came back into the camp, his green eyes blazing angrily.  "I don't like demons," he said through clenched teeth, sitting down next to Charissa.
"Where is it now?" asked Sonarwyn, sitting up.
"Rather far away from here by now, I think," said Cartagh in a reassuring tone.  "It is a powerful demon, and it was out to get you.  You are lucky to be yourself right now."  He leaned over and touched a small pile of wood.  It ignited.
"You are a magic user?"  Sonarwyn asked, wondering how Cartagh could have dealt with so powerful a demon and still be unharmed.
"No," Cartagh replied firmly.  "When the world was created, the Nymphs were given power over the four staples of life and beauty: fire, water, air and earth.  I am a Fire Nymph.  I can do anything I wish with fire so long as I remain faithful to the Lord of Heaven.  Unrepented rebellion against Him will cause me to loose my powers; it is the same with the other Nymphs as well.  Charissa is a Water Nymph.  It was she that entered your mind and shielded it from the demon.  She can do anything she likes with water.  Air Nymphs are rarer and not as well known, but they have power over air.  Earth Nymphs are better known as Wood Nymphs.  They love the plants and most commonly use their power to tend the beautiful gardens they live in, but they can use their power as a weapon as well, and it is best to be on their side when they do."
"Why are you so far away from your home?"
"We are going to join King Argon."
They came to the Delphia River at sunset.  Charissa leaned down and touched the water, and an ice bridge came up.   It melted as soon as they crossed it.  They camped on the bank.  Sonarwyn enjoyed the undisturbed night of sleep.
The next morning, they heard the thunder of hooves.  Two riders came towards them.  With a sickening jolt, Sonarwyn realized who they were.  Argon and Walker pulled up next to the camp and greeted Cartagh and Charissa.  Sonarwyn kept her head down, hoping to go unnoticed.
I could run.  I should run.  I have attempted to kill the king; they'll never forgive me for it.  Suddenly, she realized that Cartagh was talking about her.
"... name's Sonarwyn.  We picked her up a bit south of Kena Mountain.  She says she's a former enchantress who failed in a mission and thus ran afoul of her mistress, Hepsiba."
"I might have seen her before," said Argon, "though the circumstances were far from friendly."
Sonarwyn wanted to melt and vanish into the ground.
"What happened?" asked Charissa
"She tried to kill Walker and me," Argon replied.
Sonarwyn's stomach churned with fear.  Every part of her screamed at her to run, but she was frozen in place by terror.  Footsteps approached, and hand was placed under her chin, and Sonarwyn was forced to look straight into the eyes of the person she had tried to kill.

En ton onoma fon ton Kurios fon Ouranos, apeimi!  - In the name of the Lord of Heaven, go!

En ton Onoma, apeimi! - In the Name, go!

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

Crystal swung her legs over the side of the bed, thrust her feet into her boots, and promptly pulled them back out. "Ow!"
"What's wrong?" Thera asked.
"My boots pinch my feet."  Crystal put her hand into her boot, looking for something jammed in the toe.  There were pranks of this sort at the Academy, things had been put in her boots before, but this time there was nothing.  She put her feet in her boots again and received the same result.  She looked up helplessly at Thera.  "What's going on?" she asked.
"I think you may have grown," said Thera.  "Here, try my boots."
Thera's boots fit perfectly.  "But your feet are bigger than mine!"  said Crystal in shock. 
"Not anymore, it seems," said Thera.  "That's my spare pair of boots, so you wear them until we can get you some that fit to replace your old ones."
The misfits didn't stop with the boots.  Some of Crystal's clothes were more form-fitting than they had been and others didn't fit at all.  Crystal finally settled for a dress that had always been just a bit too large and now fit normally.
Alec started with surprise when she met him for their morning lessons.  "Is it my imagination, or are you taller?" he asked.
"I'm taller," said Crystal.

The growth continued at an insane pace.   Crystal found that she had to move with extreme caution to avoid slamming her head into low-hanging objects, tripping on stairs or knocking things over.  The growing pains were almost constant, and, coupled with the sore muscles from her practice, made Crystal's life rather miserable.  There were many times when she was nearly sent to tears from the pain.
"I don't know how much longer I can take this!" she wailed to Alec after a fencing lesson, dropping to the ground and fighting back tears.  "I hurt all over, all the time!"  She pounded the ground helplessly with her fist.
"You've been here  nearly two months," said Alec.  "You were already in decent physical shape when you got here, so the pain from that should start easing off soon.  You are growing very fast.  I've heard of growth spurts, but never at this rate."
"Is there something wrong with me?" asked Crystal.
"No, as far as I can tell.  You're quite healthy, just going through a growth spurt gone insane.  It should end soon, though."

It did end soon.  The pain subsided, and Crystal was able to put more concentration into her lessons.  A letter came from Argon to the Academy.  It was very general, stating merely that he and some friends were gathering support in the north Sarco Mountains and requesting that the Left-handed Warriors be ready for action.  After the messenger read the letter, he slipped quietly into the chattering crowd and found Crystal.
"Argon wished me to give this to you personally," he said, pulling a letter quietly from his pouch and passing it to her.  Then he vanished into the mass of people.
Crystal found an empty corner and looked the letter over.  Not wishing to open it in so public a place, she tucked it into her dress and headed for her room.  She raced up the stairs without tripping on them for the first time in weeks.  She went into her room, lit a candle, and threw herself on the bed to read.
This letter was far more detailed than the one that had been read to the students at the Academy.  Argon told her of how he was teaching Walker to fence.  "Your brother is very skilled," he wrote.  "Lately, we've been able to use the practice halls at the lord's castles to fence and often end up with an audience of squires, pages, and other servants.  There are few girls at the castles who have not tried to catch Walker's special attention, but he is either oblivious to them or simply ignores their advances."  The letter continued, telling her the number of troops they had gained and the various amusing or exciting incidents that had happened while they were traveling.  "You must find out how soon you will be able to join the army at the School of Lore," Argon said, "and it must be very soon.  The time draws near for us to act."  There was not much more. 
Crystal sighed, folded the letter, and slid it under her pillow.  I'll have to ask Alec how soon I will be ready tomorrow, she said to herself.  She pulled a book off her nightstand and flipped to a bookmarked page.  Alec had been teaching her Elvish, and not a night passed where she did not have something to translate from the Elvish.  This particular night she had a poem called 'The Lament of the Wanderer'.  She read through the lines, enjoying the romantic sense of it.  Lately all the translations had been descriptions of battles and various pieces of literature on battle strategy and fighting.  Useful, yes, but this was a welcome change.  She pulled out pen and parchment and began writing out her translation.

 She met Alec the next morning on the archery field.  "Alec," she said, "I really hate to ask this, but Argon wants to know how soon I can join him at the School of Lore."
"We'll see," said Alec.  He strung his bow and shot three arrows at the bull's eye on the target.  They landed tightly in the center.
Crystal strung her own bow and chose three arrows.  She shot swiftly and managed to best Alec's shot by a hair's breadth.  After this, they got unicorns from the stables and practiced shooting from a moving mount.  Alec had  little instruction for Crystal; she had mastered archery very quickly.
Later in the morning, they were able to move out to the practice field.  Drawing swords, they faced each other, but Crystal sensed that there was something different about this particular duel.  Alec's face was expressionless, his eyes hard and unreadable.  Crystal dropped quickly into a comfortable, defensive stance.  Alec swung at her, and she parried, surprised at the ferocity of the blow.  Alec dropped back, eyeing her emotionlessly.  Crystal realized that this duel was very nearly for real.  Her mistakes would not be corrected but exploited to Alec's advantage, and he would not hesitate to give her the harmless nicks and cuts that he had so far avoided.  She knew that Alec would not seriously hurt her, but he would test her to her limits.
Alec remained motionless for what seemed like an eternity.  Crystal fought to control her impatience and tried to occupy her mind with studying the practice field for obstacles out of the side of her eye.  Then Alec sprang at her, engaging her in a more vicious duel than she had yet experienced.  She dropped to the defencive.  Slowly, as a rhythm came out of the blows, she tried for the offencive.  The duel raged on, domination swaying back and forth.  Alec held nothing back but slammed every trick and combination he had ever learned against Crystal's defense.  She held her own well, however, and he had yet to touch her with his blade.  Suddenly she rushed at him with a somewhat improvised and unexpected combination.  His guard was knocked aside for the briefest moment, and the tip of her sword ripped the shoulder of his tunic.  He felt the slight trickle of blood down his arm.
Unbeknownst to the two combatants, a large group of spectators had gathered on the edge of the practice field.  Not a sound came from them; it was rare, even here, to see such an incredible display of skill.
Alec spun and switched styles.  This threw Crystal off, and Alec gave her a cut on the arm, but she recovered with stunning speed.  Crystal thought she saw the slightest glint of pleasure in Alec's so far emotionless eyes.  Neither knew quite how long they had fought, only that they were drenched in sweat and coming to a point where they would have to hold their own by sheer will-power.  Finally, Crystal came at Alec with a combination that she had not yet tried.  She burst through his guard and, before he had a chance to recover, sent her sword flying towards his head.  She turned it at the last second, and the flat of her blade slapped softly against Alec's cheek.  They stood there, motionless and heaving, for a moment.  Then Alec lowered his sword.
"There is nothing more I can teach you," he said.  "You are as skilled with the blade as most that I have seen."
Crystal dropped her sword arm, and both she and Alec were startled by loud cheering from the edge of the field.  Students swarmed around them.  The boys shouted exuberantly and pounded Alec on the back so hard that he nearly had the wind knocked out of him while the girls squealed with delight and scurried about like butterflies.  The instructors stayed to the side, observing the im-prompt-to festivities with regal approval.
Crystal saw Thera pressing through the crowd towards her.  She gratefully grabbed her friend's hand.  Thera half dragged her exausted roommate from the crowd and helped her up the stairs to their room.  Crystal bathed, rested, and ate lunch, then rode out to a clearing with Alec and engaged in duel of martial arts that was just a fierce as the sword-fight earlier that day.  That night she collapsed into her bed, drained of all energy.
 
Crystal was awakened the next morning by Thera bouncing into the room with an bundle.  "You're leaving today!" said Thera.  "Alec says that you are as ready as you'll ever be, and he doesn't want to keep the king waiting.  So," she dropped the bundle on the floor, "I've brought your gear."
"Gear?" Crystal asked sleepily, her voice half smothered by the pillow.
"Yes!" Thera said excitedly.  "Up with you!" she cried, pouncing on Crystal and shaking her.  "Clothes, weapons, the works, girl!  You must get ready to go!"
Crystal tumbled slowly out of bed.  There were three basic kinds of outfits in the bundle.  One was dark blue pants that were laced up the sides.  Under the lacing, one could see a strip of deep brown.  The lacing ended slightly below the knee, and the brown panel made the pants flare somewhat.  With the pants was a dark blue tunic and a molded, dark brown leather corset that laced at the sides.  This style was repeated in the other two outfits.  One was green.  The corset, which was made of a light brown colored leather, was not molded.  The last outfit was tan and cream with a soft leather corset.
There was a longbow and quiver of well-feathered arrows.  Thera pulled out three pairs of stilettos.  They were very slim, far more slender than any kind of knife Crystal had ever seen, and only one set had a cross-guard.
"These are used like hair-sticks," said Thera.  "This one," she held up the set with the cross-guard, "is worn with  battle dress."  She tapped the dark blue outfit.  "This pair," she took out a pair with leather-wrapped handles and no cross-guard, "is worn with this."  She tossed them on top of the green outfit.  "And these,"  she pulled out the last pair, "are worn with the white one."  The last stilettos were absolutely beautiful.  The handles were engraved and a string of well-cut glass beads hung from the ends of the handles, glistening almost like diamonds.  "Alec took forever picking this out," said Thera, holding up a long, slender bundle.  "I doubt he'll agonize over anything more than this until he plans his marriage proposal."  She flung back the cloth to reveal a sword on a leather belt.  The pommel, two-handed grip and cross-guard were gorgeously inlaid with mother-of-pearl.  An emerald surrounded by small pearls was inlaid on both sides of the sword where the grip joined the cross-guard.  Crystal pulled the sword from its sheath.  Something was written on the blade in the Elfin tongue.  "Margarites," she read.  " 'Pearl'.  That is the sword's name?"
"Yes.  Most simply put, is it not?  And yet it fits the sword perfectly.  Its former owner was not one for complex names."
Crystal slid the sword back in its sheath.
"Well," said Thera, "get dressed and come down to the Dinner Hall as soon as possible.  You can pack after breakfast."  She left.
Crystal dressed in the green outfit and laced on the corset, which was essentially like a sleeveless jacket that flared well past her hips.  She braided her hair and wrapped it in a knot on the back of her head, thrusting the stilettos into it like hair-sticks.  The stilettos were sheathed, and the sheaths were equipped with small hairpins to keep them from coming out when the stilettos were drawn.  Swiftly she pulled on her boots, laced them up, and headed down to join the rush of students headed for breakfast.
She met Alec at a table.  "Are you ready to go?" he asked her.
"Nearly," she replied.  "Just a few things to pack."
"Good.  I'll wait for you out front with the unicorns."
"Don't worry about the unicorns," Crystal said.  "I can get us there just as fast, perhaps faster."
"How?" asked Alec, bewildered.
"You've read the prophecy," said Crystal, a mysterious tone in her voice.  "You should have some idea."
Alec almost dropped his fork. "Powers?"
"Mhm," said Crystal around a mouthful of biscuit.
 
Crystal went back to her room after breakfast.  She swiftly packed her clothing and buckled on her sword.  She threw her gray cloak over her shoulders and slung her bow and arrows on her back.  Thera came into the room. 
"I'll miss you Crystal," she said.  The two girls embraced.  "Take care of yourself."
"You take care too," said Crystal, and headed out the door.
She went to the front of the building to where Alec was waiting.  He eyed her with some suspicion.  She tossed him her bags, then morphed into a pegasus in front of his stunned eyes.
"Wha-?  How is this possible?"  he said, astonished.
Crystal nipped him gently on the shoulder.
"I take it that means, 'Let's get going,' " said Alec.
Crystal bobbed her head.
"Okay...but I haven't ever done this before.  Head south until you hit the Nitrasia river, then follow it east."  Alec put the bags across her back, then mounted.  Crystal took off and headed south.

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

Walker eyed Argon carefully.  Over the past several days, they had fenced as much as their energy allowed, but Walker had yet to hold his own against Argon for more than five minutes.  Walker turned his mind back to the duel at hand.  Argon attacked with amazing speed, but Walker parried his blow.  Argon made another thrust, and Walker barely dodged getting hit in the leg.  He tried for his own attack, but Argon's defence was seamless, and Walker soon received a smack on the arm from Argon's cudgel.  A few more swift blows were exchanged, but Walker was soon on the floor with his cudgel out of reach.
"You're getting better," said Argon, helping Walker up.
"Not that I feel like it," Walker groaned, rubbing his now sore arm.
"That's because I'm not holding anything back.  I was at first, but you're quick, and now I'm not holding back.  You ready for a few more passes?"
"Sure."
They fought for a while before Sedge came in the door, rubbing his forehead.  "Argon," he gasped, "if I was ever your friend, you've got to go to my father and prove that you didn't surrender to Donovan!"
"Was he not happy when he heard the news?"
"He was more than not happy; he was furious!  He ranted about how we should have stopped you for half an hour before I was able to get a word in and tell him that you sent a decoy."
"And what did he think of that?"
"He said, 'By the Lord of Heaven, it had better be true, or we'll gather an army, storm the capital, and get Argon back!'  You've got to go, Argon, before he does...something!  I don't know what he might do, but my father is a man of action, and I'd rather not find out what he might do."  Sedge ran a hand through his hair, making most of it stick out the wrong way.
They ran out to the stables and mounted their unicorns without bothering with their tack.  Sedge did not live far from the School of Lore, and they were there in short notice.  Sedge's father was waiting on the steps of his small castle.
"Is that you, Argon?" he called.
"It is, Lord Axton," Argon responded.
"So, you didn't surrender," Axton said as they dismounted in front of the castle.
"No, I did not," said Argon, coming up the steps.
"Then we must give thought to rallying the supporting lords and gathering an army.  Come inside, and we'll see what we can find."
They went inside to a large study and found places around a large table that was partially covered in books and papers.
"I've been looking at this for some time," said Lord Axton, "And I have compiled a list of lords that will definitely be with us."  He handed Argon a piece of parchment.
Argon skimmed the list, nodding.  "Yes, I can agree with all of these."
"I do not think we should waste any time," said Sedge.  "You should begin rallying your army immediately."
"I don't know," said Argon.  "Maybe we should wait."
"For what?" asked Walker.  "My sister?  I don't think she would want you to wait on her.  You don't have to be hesitant all the time, you know."
"That was...blunt," said Sedge.
Everyone was silent as Argon considered what to do.  "You're right, Walker.  We do need to act, and now.  I should have initiated this earlier."
"You've been worried about Con," said Sedge.  "Anyone who is as worried about a friend as much as you have been is going to be distracted."
"That's really not the best excuse," said Argon.  "I should have worked past my worry.   Con bought us time at a high price, and I shouldn't waste it any longer.  Where's the nearest lord?"
Sedge jumped up from his chair and dug through the pile of papers on the table.  At last he withdrew a map and unrolled it, weighting down the corners with inkwells and assorted knickknacks.  "This lord here is quite close," said Sedge, tapping a point on the map.
"I'll go there then," said Argon.  "Where do you suggest we rally the army?"
"Here at the School of Lore," said Sedge.  "Sarconia City would be more central-"
"but its central location would be the problem since we want to do this quietly," finished Argon.
"Exactly.  The people down here in the Arnia Valley will help us, I know, but the only problem is bringing an army past the city without drawing attention."
"Let us cross that river when we come to it," said Argon.  "I'm sure a way will present itself when the time comes.  As it is, let us start gathering troops in the north first."
"I'll go with you," said Walker and Sedge at the same time.
"Sedge..."  said Argon.
Sedge folded his arms. "Conan got to go last time!"
"And I want you to stay behind this time for the same reason as last time," said Argon calmly.  "You are my general; I need you here to organize the troops as they come in."
Sedge narrowed his eyes.  "You sure make staying behind seem very important."
Argon laid his hand on Sedge's arm. "And it is."
"Oh, very well," Sedge said resignedly.  "I might as well not get in the habit of being insubordinate.  Don't have too much fun without me."
"We won't," Walker promised.

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

After Conan left, Argon started moping.  Nothing his friends could do would cheer him up.  Finally Tess said, "Argon, you can't go on acting like this."
"Conan's dead; I just know it!" wailed Argon.  "I should have never let him go!"
Crystal, who was trying to read a book, rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to whack Argon up the side of the head.  He had been saying this for days and it was starting to get annoying.  "Argon, if Conan was dead we'd know about it already," she said in a near monotone.
"Maybe.  Maybe he isn't dead.  But maybe he's worse than dead!"  Argon dropped his head onto the table, pulling at his hair and moaning intelligible words.
"How do you and Conan know each other, anyway?"  Walker asked curiously.
Argon raised his head from the table and started tracing the carvings in it with his finger."He grew up here at the School; I met him when I came.  We were always getting in trouble together; most of our profs couldn't tell us apart and rarely bothered trying to figure out which one of us was the real culprit in whatever slight mischief had been done."  Argon managed a weak grin.  "We switched names all the time, so often no one ever really knew who had done it but us, and we never told.  We never guessed we'd be in the deadly switch we are in now."
"It's not deadly!" hollered Crystal and Tess at the same time.
"How do you know?"
"Because if Donovan kills Conan and everyone thinks he's you, what do you think will happen?  Massive rebellion!  No one agrees with killing someone who has already surrendered to you; it's not considered proper.  He won't risk angering the people this early on in his takeover," said Tess.
"But what if he kills Conan and frames someone else for it?"
"This depressing subject has eaten away at your mind for long enough," said Tess.  "Why don't you teach Walker about sword fighting?  He'll need the skill if we're going to be in the middle of a war soon."
Argon started the lesson reluctantly, but Walker was an eager student, and Argon soon forgot his woes.  Crystal sat on a window seat and watched them eagerly, trying to pick up on some of the skills.
After a time, Sedge came up to her.  "There is a messenger from the Lord of Heaven here for you," he said.
Crystal slid off the window seat and followed Sedge to the Main Hall.  A man was waiting for them.  He was neither young nor old.  He seemed almost Elvish, but not quite so.  He greeted Crystal kindly.
"Good morning, Crystal.  I am Gabin, a messenger from the Lord."
"What does the Lord have to tell me?"
"I am to take you to the Left-handed Warrior's Academy tomorrow.  There you will be trained."
"As the Lord wishes.  I will tell my brother.  Has lodging been found for you?"
Gabin smiled.  "Yes.  Dawn tomorrow?"
"Yes.  I shall be ready."
 Crystal went back through the halls and found Argon and Walker.  They were resting.
"Walker," Crystal said, "I'm leaving tomorrow."
"To check on Mother and Father?" Walker asked.
"No.  A messenger came from the Lord.  He is to take me to the Left-handed Warrior's Academy."
"You are sure he is not a fake?" asked Walker.
"I am certain."
Walker nodded. "Alright."
 
Crystal and Gabin left at dawn the next morning.  Crystal was mounted sidesaddle, so she would appear as a young noblewoman out for an early morning ride.  With Argon's decoy gone to Stragillia, they had truly moved into an underground rebellion and had to keep a low profile.
A few miles away from the School of Lore, Gabin stopped his unicorn.  "I have to blindfold you, Crystal.  The Left-handed Warriors keep the location of their training center secret; indeed, you will not learn where it lies until you graduate."
"I understand," said Crystal.
Gabin blindfolded her, and they went on.  After a while, they stopped for a brief lunch.  Right before they left, Gabin spun Crystal around until she lost all sense of direction.  Then he helped her mount her horse and they traveled on through the high forest. 
Evening came on, and they camped.  The next day they started out again.  Gabin said that they would have been there sooner, but he was going at a slow pace. 
"We'll be there soon after lunch," he said.
Soon after they started out after their noon repast, the sounds of the forest that had previously drifted to Crystal’s ears began to be replaced by the sounds of people.  There was a faint sound of clanging steel and the sound of horses and many people.  She turned her head, trying to pick up and identify the various sounds, wishing she could peer through the blindfold that covered her eyes.  Gabin lead her horse toward the sounds.  She shifted somewhat uncomfortably; riding sidesaddle was making her stiff.  They finally came to a stop.  Crystal’s sensed picked up the presence of something very large near her.
 Gabin was talking to someone who’s voice she did not recognize.  She heard the soft jingle of the bridle as someone else took the reins of her horse. "Let me give you a hand there, miss," said a pleasant voice.
 Crystal reached out carefully, and the person helped her dismount.  She shifted her feet on the ground; it was grassy and soft.  The air was crisp.  Whoever had assisted her still had his hand on her elbow.  She turned her head toward him, or at least where she thought he was.  "I am still in the mountains, am I not?" she asked.
 "Yes, you are.
 Gabin came over. "Crystal, I’m going to go find the head instructor.  Alec," Gabin addressed the young man next to Crystal, "Can you stay with her, or do you have a class to get to?"
 "I can stay with her," Alec responded.  Gabin left.  "Come over here, Crystal, is it?  We can, or at least I can, watch the archers.  I suppose you can only hear them.  At least we’ll be out of the way."  He led her over a ways and helped her seat herself on the grass.  Crystal’s senses promptly picked up the twang of bowstrings, the soft hiss of arrows, and the thump as they hit the target.
 "What does it look like?" asked Crystal.
 "There are ten archers," Alec replied, "shooting at mid-range targets..." Alec carefully described each archer’s motions, then told Crystal the outcome of the shot. 
 Footsteps approached.  "Thank you, Alec," said Gabin.
 "You are welcome, sir," said Alec, getting up.
 "Nay, Alec, stay," said a voice that Crystal did not recognize. 
 Alec dropped back onto the grass next to Crystal.
 From the following sounds, Crystal guessed that Gabin and the stranger had seated themselves on the grass across from her.
 "Crystal," said the stranger, "I am Trent, the head instructor.  Tell me, have you been in combat before?"
 "Once, sir," Crystal replied.
 "Whom did you meet?"
 "A Death Rider, sir, and his dragon."
 "Was this before or after you met the Son of the Lord of heaven?"  Trent’s voice was worried.
 "Before," Crystal responded.
 Trent began to sound very worried indeed.  "How long after the confrontation did you meet the Son?"
 "The next day."
 "Tell me, Crystal, did the Death Rider’s skills impress you?"
 "Sir, the Death Rider was skilled, but ugly."
 A smothered giggle came from Alec.
"Was his...appearance your only drawback?"
 "No.  He seemed to me to be the incarnation of the word 'despicable'."
 Trent breathed a sigh of relief.  "Too many people who have met the Death Riders in combat have aspired to become like them to gain power.  I had to ensure you were not on of those."  Trent continued asking Crystal questions, and she quickly realized that he was testing the strength of her faith in the Lord of Heaven.  "Crystal," he said finally, "The Lord of Heaven has commanded that you be trained as a Left-handed Warrior.  However, the circumstances are pressing.  You are close to the future king, are you not?"
 "Yes, Argon and I are friends."
 "War is going to come soon.  You will need to be at least mostly trained, if not fully, by the time it gets here; Argon will need you near him.  Therefore, we do not have the time for you to go from class to class, for it would take years to finish your training in that manner.  Alec here has just finished his training a few months ago.  Alec, will you pass your knowledge on to her?"
 "As best I can," said Alec.
 "It’s settled then.  Crystal, you will be getting more of a crash course; Alec will skip things you already know and concentrate on those you don’t.  It will be draining.  Are you willing to do this?"
 "Yes," Crystal said.
 "All right then," said Trent.  "I'm sorry, but I must rush off."  He said farewell and left.
 "I'd best be going too," said Gabin.  "I might see you later, Crystal.  Alec." He too left.
 "Come on," said Alec.  "Once we're inside, you can take off the blindfold.  You're probably tired, so we'll just go over some history today; nothing physically tiring." Alec led her around a corner, up some stairs, and though a door. "You can take off the blindfold now," he said.
 Crystal pulled the strip of cloth from her eyes and looked around. "It's almost the same as the main hall in the School of Lore!" she said in amazement.  It was true.  The same kings stood across from the same queens, although the statues were in white marble, rather than full color.
 Near the door was a fountain, and Alec filled two wooden cups with water from it.  He handed Crystal one of the cups, seated himself on the low platform the first queen stood upon, and motioned for Crystal to join him.  Then he began to tell her the history of the Sarconian rulers, carefully outlining their deeds and giving one or two interesting facts about them before moving on to the next.  It took most of the afternoon, and their only interruption was an instructor briefly whispering something in Alec’s ear.
 As the sun began getting low in the eastern sky, Alec finished his lesson.  "Try to remember the basic points of all that," he told Crystal.  "If you’re having trouble, go to the library.  The people there are most helpful and will locate any books you need."
 A spry-looking girl came lightly around the corner.  "Hello, Alec," she said.
 "Hello, Thera," Alec said. "Crystal, this is Thera.  She is your roommate."
 The girls greeted each other, and Alec said goodbye and left them.
 "Your bags are already in our room," said Thera.  "I'm really excited to have roommate again. My old roommate left a few months ago, and it's been a bit lonely.  Here, right through this door is the girl's dormitory.  There are classrooms below us, but the second floor is mostly rooms.  This is the East Wing; the boy's dormitory is in the West Wing.  How was your ride?"
 "It was good," said Crystal.  "Quite peaceful, compared to my other rides with Walker and Argon; they were... eventful."
 "You have met Argon Breaker, the future king?  What's he like?"
 "He is somewhat difficult to describe, but he will make a good leader."
 "I am glad!  Here is our room."  Thera opened a door.
 The comfortable room contained little furniture.  Rich, earthy tones gave it a peaceful feeling.  A small balcony overlooked the practice fields.  Thera helped Crystal put her clothing in the enormous wardrobe.  Crystal changed clothes and brushed her hair.  A bell began to toll.
 "The dinner bell," said Thera excitedly.  "Come on, Crystal."
 The two girls left their room and went out into the bustling hall.  The wave of excited chatter increased as they entered the Main Hall and joined the boys, who were leaving their dorm.  It was not a time where one could get angry because their toe was stepped on.  Indeed, if you came down on a toe, there was no use trying to find out whose toe it had been; you could only shout a random apology into the crowd.
 Alec came up beside Thera and Crystal.  "Loud, isn't it," he said to Crystal.
 Crystal nodded, gratefully taking Alec's proffered arm.  He guided her expertly through the crowd to the stairs that led down to the Dinning Hall.  It was here that the unorganized mass of people became a neat line.  Alec and Crystal stood on the third stair from the top.  Everyone moved against the wall to allow the elderly instructors and their assistants to pass to the front of the line.  An instructor called for silence and shouted some room numbers.  "You are helping with the cleanup!  Go to the front of the line!"  There was a clatter of feet on the steps as the people assigned to the kitchen passed the front of the line. 
The dinner was good.   Alec explained the schedule of the Warrior’s Academy, and Thera explained the layout of the buildings.  Each one of wings was had three stories , with one story below ground, the ground floor full of class rooms, and the third floor with dorm rooms and a parlor for socializing.  The Main Hall also had three stories.  One story was below ground, the second, or ground, story was two stories high, and the third story was the library.  The first story, or basement, of the Main Hall was the Dinning Hall and kitchen.  Below the West Wing was the Armory, where the weapons were kept, and below the East Wing was the Assembly Hall.  The Assembly Hall was where everyone went when the instructors wanted to call a meeting, but mostly it was a gathering place where the students congregated to play games, instruments, or just talk.  It was to this room that Alec took Crystal after they finished eating.
 They sat down on some cushions at a low table.  "Private training isn’t normally done," said Alec,  "and I'd like to do it in such a way that we aren't disrupting any classes.  So...in the morning, we'll join everyone for warm-ups, then, instead of going to fencing, we'll do archery.  Then when we'd normally to archery, we'll do fencing.  After that, they normally do martial arts, but we'll just stay on the practice field and work on knife-play.  Then there's lunch, and, after that, riding.  We'll split off from the main riding group and go out to a clearing a few miles from here and do martial arts.  Then we'll spend most of the rest of the afternoon riding or doing bookwork.  How much do you know book-wise?"
 "My mother was learned," said Crystal, "and before I left home I knew nearly all she had to teach me, but I really don’t know how much that was."
 Alec spent the rest of the evening testing Crystal’s knowledge and was pleased to find that he had little to teach her in academics.

 
The days breezed by.  Crystal's muscles hurt from the rigorous exercise, but she enjoyed Alec's lessons.  One evening, after lessons, Alec said, "Tomorrow is the last day of the week.  There aren't going to be any lessons."
"What are we going to be doing instead?" Crystal asked.
"Cleaning the School and grounds.  You and I are helping with the Main Hall."
The next morning was a flurry of activity.  Crystal attacked the floor of the Main Hall with a scrub brush.  This kind of activity was not foreign to her; she had often scrubbed the floor of her own home.  The mindless scrubbing gave her time to think.  She thought about everything that had happened up to that point: her capture, the time with the enchantress, the escape, Elfarven, Cecilwyn...
"Are you angry about something?"  Alec's voice broke through her thoughts.
"I don't think so.  Why?"
"You're scrubbing that floor like you want to scrub it into dust."  Alec swiftly removed the dust from a slender crack between two of the stones on the floor with his own brush.
"I was just thinking."  Crystal shifted her position to a different part of the floor.
"You must have been thinking hard."
"I guess."  Crystal's mind drifted back to Cecilwyn.  'Because I still love you, in a way.'   That girl is a disgrace to all Elvendom.  I have a great respect for Elves, but her!  She annoys me.  Crystal found that she was scrubbing much harder than was needed.
"I think you are angry about something," said Alec calmly.
Crystal poured out her annoyance with Cecilwyn and then, before she could stop herself, her feelings for Argon.  She blushed violently.  She had not spoken of her love even to Walker.
"No need to blush, Crystal," said Alec.  "I hear that Argon is very fond of you.  I would not be surprised if he returned your feelings."
Crystal stopped scrubbing and looked at Alec in disbelief. "That's impossible!"
Alec just smiled and continued scrubbing the floor.  Crystal got the feeling that something very important was being hidden from her. 
She leaned forwards.  "It's the prophecy.  It speaks of my fate.  What's going to happen?"
Alec did not look up from the floor.  "I have been forbidden to tell you.  It would bring you much worry and pain to know what is in the future."
"Why?"
Alec looked at her with the same piercing gaze that Blake had given Walker weeks before at the Red Lantern in Rindara.  Finally he spoke.  "Nothing good comes without cost."

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

 Argon was up with the dawn.  He spent some time praying, wondering if Jenuel's visit from the night before had been a dream.  He finally left his room, thinking of how he would spend his morning.  Down the hall, a nervous boy stood just outside Crystal's door with a bowl of fruit.  He was obviously relieved to see Argon.
 "GoodmorningmylordcouldyoutakethistotheLadyCrystalforme?" he gasped in one breath.  Without waiting for a reply, he handed Argon the bowl and nearly ran down the hall.
Argon smiled, guessing the boy was frightened to get anywhere near a Corvanie princess.  He tapped on the door, but there was no reply from within.  Cracking the door and peering inside, he saw that Crystal was still sleeping.  He stepped silently into the room and set the bowl down on a table.  Going softly to the window, he shut the heavy drapes so Crystal could sleep as long as she desired.  Then he left the room, closing the door gently behind him.
Walker came out of his stateroom.  "How is she?" he asked Argon, referring to Crystal.
"Asleep," Argon replied.  "I get the feeling that she was very tired." 
They began walking down the hall.
"She was.  Argon, I've been reading."
"What book?" Argon asked absently.
"The Word," Walker responded.
This caught Argon's attention.  "Of the Lord of Heaven?"
Walker nodded.  "Yes.  But it confuses me."
"How so?"
"A couple of years ago," Walker explained, "a man came through town, talking about the Lord.  He said that all we have to do is believe that Jenuel is the Son of the Lord, and we will be saved.  He was very convincing, and that's what I believed.  There was another man who came through a few months ago.  He taught of immersion.  Crystal accepted the belief and asked our father if he would allow her to be immersed.  My father is a kind man and told her that if her conscience would trouble her if she was not immersed, he would stand between her and immersion. So she was immersed.  All this time I believed that she was wrong, but now I've read the Word, and alot of the verses seem to imply that immersion is necessary.  So I'm confused.  Is the first man right, and I'm merely misunderstanding the Word, or have I believed the wrong thing and Crystal the right?"
Argon sighed, wondering how to best answer his friend.  "Belief in needed for salvation, but Walker, even the demons believe, and they certainly aren't saved."
"So what's the truth?"
"Before the Dark Years, Jenuel, whom you have met, came here as one of us.  He taught and healed, but we had him executed for really no reason but envy; he never did a bad thing in all his life.  In his death, he took on and paid the price of everyone's sin."  Argon's eyes became distant.  "That's love."
"How can that be true?  We saw him alive."
"Three days after he died, he rose and conquered death for us."
"What does this have to do with being immersed?"
"When we are immersed, it is a sign that we are joining him in death and dying to ourselves, surrendering unconditionally and becoming totally submissive to the Lord's will."
"But even if we surrender to His will and live a perfect life ever after, we've still sinned and are in an unsaved condition.  It is sin that separates us from the Lord?"
"It is.  But in immersion we are washed clean of sin."
"So immersion washes away our sin."
"Symbolically, yes."
"And merely believing cannot do that?"
"Well, does believing you are clean take the place of a bath?"
"No."
"In the same way, believing that you are clean of sin does not take the place of immersion."
"I'm still a bit confused."
"In what way?"
"I try to be a good person, but as much as I sin, I might as well live in the middle of a river!"
"No.  You're only immersed once.  After that, you're part of the Lord's family.  When you sin, all you have to do is pray for forgiveness."
"Is praying for forgiveness the same as being immersed?"
"Yes."
"So why do we have to be immersed?  Why can't we just ask for forgiveness and save the trouble of getting wet?"
"Well, as you said before, sin separates us from the Lord.  So even if you prayed all day, your prayer would not be heard.  Immersion washes away that sin, and only then are your prayers heard."
"But if you are immersed and then praying for forgiveness because you sinned, why does that sin not separate you from the Lord?"
 "When you are immersed, you become part of the Lord's family.  So asking the Lord for forgiveness is just like telling your father you are sorry when you do something wrong and seeking his forgiveness.  You know that even though you are in trouble, he still loves you.  And although you might face punishment for whatever you did, you'll be forgiven for it.  It's the same way with the Lord."
"In summery then, how are we saved?"
"I heard a preacher once use the words 'hear', 'believe', 'repent', 'confess', and 'be immersed' to sum up our salvation process.  First, you hear the Word.  Then you must believe that it is true.  After that comes repentance.  I'd forgotten to mention that.  You must be sorry for what you've done and ready to change, or else immersion is just a bunch of getting wet.  Then comes confession, confessing that you believe Jenuel is the Son of the Lord.  Finally comes immersion, the end of an old life and the beginning of a new one.  Does that all make sense?"

"Yes.  It does.  Argon, can you immerse me?"
"Yes.  Do you want to do it now?"
"When else?"
Argon grinned.  "Let's go find a fountain."
They trooped out to the gardens and found a fountain that was deep enough.  Sitting down near the edge, they pulled off their boots and socks then slid into the waist deep water.  Argon put his arm behind Walker's shoulders.
"Walker, do you believe that Jenuel is the Son of the Lord?"
"I do."
"Then I immerse you in the name of the Lord, His Son, and the Holy Spirit."
Argon lowered Walker into the water, then lifted him back out.  Walker broke into a wide grin as he surfaced.  He and Argon embraced.
"Welcome to the family," said a soft voice from the edge of the fountain.  Argon's cousin, Tess, stood there with an armful of towels.  "I try to keep an eye on all the immersions around here," she said. "Usually, the person is so excited about being saved that everyone forgets about the towels." 
They splashed out into the chilly air and wrapped themselves in the towels that Tess provided.
"Morning is such a lovely time for an immersion," said Tess.  "A new day, a new life, and a whole new family."
"You see many immersions then?" asked Walker.
"Oh, yes.  Practially everyone at the School has been immersed or is on the road to do so.  So we are all brothers and sisters in the Lord.  That's one of my favorite parts.  When I was a child, I would often try to talk my parents into adopting Argon because I wanted him to be my brother.  And now we are brother in sister in the Lord.  But right now I'm going to act a bit like your mother.  Off you go to put on dry clothes so you won't get chilled."

If you have any questions about the doctrine I'm using, please ask me.  I will be happy to answer any questions and give you the scriptures that I'm am using as my belief foundation.

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

Yes, Chapter Ten is here, finally.  My humblest apologies for its late arival.  The translations of the Elvish are at the bottom.  After each phrase or sentece, I have placed a letter that corrosponds with the translating footnote.

When Crystal awoke the next day, everyone else but Argon was asleep. She threw off her blankets, pulled on her boots and wrapped her cloak around her. Argon stood on the edge of the ridge, the morning mists crawling about her feet. The sun had not yet risen.
Crystal went over to Argon. "Are you alright?"
Argon turned to her. "Why was I chosen?"
"To be king?"
"Yes. Why not someone older, wiser, more experienced?"
"I do not know." Why am I one of the Prophesied Four? Why am I chosen to undo evil. Who am I, that I am chosen. Who am I, that a king asks for my council?
Argon put a hand on her arm. "Are there no answers? A country to rule, people who will want me dead, people who will follow me to the death, how to I manage it? The country will be ripped in half as soon as I make my claim to the throne. The land will be ravaged by civil war, and I," Argon looked sadly at Crystal, "I will be the cause." Argon dropped his head. "I never wanted any of this to happen, but I have no control over the events that have been set in motion. I will be a warring king, it is inevitable. How many people will I send to their deaths, fighting their own countrymen?" A tear fell. "And will I ever be forgiven for it?" The tears flowed more freely, and Argon’s hand tightened on Crystal’s arm. He drew her cautiously towards him, and she let him envelop her in a hug and cry into her hair.
"There is strength in you, Argon," Crystal said. " You have the strength; if you did not, you would not have been chosen. Remember what Mad Della said before we left, "Do not forget the Lord of Heaven,"? I asked Blake if he knew who Jenuel is. He said the Jenuel is the Son of the Lord of Heaven. So it seems that we are on the Lord’s side."
Argon was bringing his emotions under control. "I am glad to know that," he said. "My future looks less bleak. It would be even brighter if-" Argon stopped and sighed.
"If what?" asked Crystal
"Nothing."
Argon reluctantly stepped away from Crystal. "It would be even brighter if you were by my side." Was what he had almost said. Good heavens, Argon, he thought, that’s practically a marriage proposal. Hugging her was forward enough. Marriage? You don’t even know her parents, not have you asked for permission to court her. Stay back you feather-brained moron, and stop letting your attraction to her drag you around!
The sun was rising, and the others were beginning to stir. Crystal pushed her hair behind her ears. "You okay?" she asked Argon.
Argon nodded.
Crystal went back to camp, started the fire, and began cooking breakfast. Blake and Zephyr got up, but Walker, defying the sun, pulled his blankets over his head. Crystal jabbed at her brother with a wooden spoon. "Awake!"
Walker did not move.
"Lazybones! Slug-a-bed!" Crystal jabbed him again.
Walker ignored her.
Crystal put some food on a plate and held it just above Walker’s nose. Soon, as she had hoped, an arm appeared from under the blankets and groped toward the plate. She moved it just out of reach.
"Controlling female," said Walker, sitting up. He continued muttering to himself. "...flying all day....won’t let me sleep..." then "annoying sis-mph," as Crystal shoved some food in his mouth.
She handed him the plate. "Eat. I’ll get your blankets."
Walker sighed. "It’s hard to stay angry with you."
"Good. I don’t like it when you’re mad at me."
"Well, your cooking sure makes it difficult."

 They started out after breakfast. In the mid-afternoon they saw the shimmering gleam of the beautiful Delphia River below them. The fishermen who lived on its banks waved to them as they flew overhead.
"We’re three-fourths of the way there!" Blake called. "Tonight we will rest at the School of Lore!"
They stopped briefly on the south bank of the Delphia River to rest. The fishermen and their families welcomed them and offered them fish, which they accepted. Walker went hunting with Zephyr. When they returned, Crystal did not inquire about the hunt, for she suspected that they had feasted on very fresh meat.
The sun was setting when the School of Lore came into view. It was near the bank of the glistening Nitrasia River. The white marble building gleamed in the setting sun. From the School to the bank of the river stretched a beautiful garden. Graceful trees, delicate flowers and sparkling fountains created a peaceful setting.
Zephyr and Walker landed in the midst of the garden. Most of the students there looked nervous, but one approached them without fear.
"Ego aspazomai humeis!" he called in the Elvish tongue.
Crystal had picked up on some Elvish in Elfarven and began translating to herself. He said, "I greet you," she thought.
"Ego aspazomai humeis, hetairos!" Argon responded.
"I greet you, friend," Crystal translated mentally.
"Emos psuche estin poiema chairo oti fon ton eisodos fon ton basileusa," the young man said.
Something about the coming of the king and being glad about it, Crystal thought. I wish my Elvish was better. But how will Argon respond to that?"
"Ego charis umas," said Argon.
"I thank you," Crystal translated to herself.
A slim girl ran up. "Emos kuriosb Argon!" she cried in surprise. "I did not expect you so soon, emos basileusc, but I am glad to see you safe. Come inside, all of you, and we shall talk." She led them to a large room. Walker calmly morphed into human form. The girl gasped. "You are one of the Proeidon Tessaresd! I knew it was coming, but I did not know the time was on us!"
"It is, emos anepsiose, Tess," said Argon, "though I fear it."
"Do not fear it, cousin. You are the king."
Argon sighed. "Am I?"
"You are." It was Jenuel’s voice. He seemingly materialized among them. They knelt. "How long will doubt, Argon?" Jenuel asked.
Argon dropped his head.
"Your people must be led. You are the rightful heir. It is intended that you take the throne, and you are not alone in this struggle."
Argon slowly raised his eyes. "Forgive me, Lord. I have given too ready an ear to my fears."
"Do not fear. I am with you, always. Argon, basileus, be strong, do not fear; ask and wisdom will be given you. Walker, pistos heis, be strong, fear not, ask, courage will be given you. Crystal, parakletos, do not lose heart; the time will come when you may be the comforter of all. But ask, and strength will be given you.
"Blake, Zephyr, Tess, hold on, and stand by your king.  Ton helios anatello!"  Jenuel laid a hand on Argon's head, then vanished.
" 'The sun rises!' " said Crystal.  " 'Ton helios anatello!'  What did he mean?"
"That there is hope," said Argon.  A new light had come into his eyes and his tone was firmer.  "Do not fail to remind us of that, Crystal Parakletos."  His tone held an air of command. It was obvious that Jenuel's words had affected him greatly; doubt had obviously been slung aside.
"Basileus-king, pistos heis-faithful one, parakletos-comforter," said Blake.  "How prophetic!"
"Please, Blake," said Walker.  "I'm getting tired of being prophicied."
"Ah, you are a very well-prophicied person already," said Blake.
"There goes my chance for a normal life," Walker sighed.
Argon put a hand on Walker's shoulder.  "I think that chance left us all long ago, emos hetairosf."
"But we still have the chance to live normal prophicied persons' lives," said Crystal.
"I think that's our fate," said Argon.
"And how shall be go about fufilling our destiny, emos kurios?" asked Crystal.
"We gather support," said Argon.
"Good thinking," said Walker.  "We must know where people's alligiance lies before you are proclaimed king.  I suspect the VenTals have a good deal of support."
"Not to metion money to bribe even more support than they already have," added Tess.  "But you are tired from your journy.  Come, rest.  You will need strength in the coming days."  She led them out of the room, down what appeared to be a back staircase, and out into the main hall.  Crystal had to think to keep herself form gawking.
They had came out beside the front doors.   Above the doors was a stained glass depiction fo the banner of the old kingdom; a white unicorn on a green background with a wreath of red dawnflowers around its neck.  the center of the hall was four stories high, with the third and fourth stories having balconies that were supported by pillars.  The pillars on the right were kings, and across from each king was his queen.  They were all in color.  Behind them, stone reliefs deppicted various life-size persons.  As the hall stretched on, the line of rulers ended, and the supports were wooden pillars.  Crystal realized that these were places for future rulers.    At the end of the hall, above the doors that went into the gardens, the Strianelian banner, a yellow lion on a dark blue background, was depicted in stained glass.
"Breathtaking, is it not?" said Tess.  "This is one of four places in the kingdom that are considered the most beautiful: Evenvinder, the palace at Stragillia, the palace at Sarconia City, the Left-handed Warrior's Academy, and The School of Lore."  They began walking down the hall.
"A good many of the ancestors are here," said Argon.
Crystal nodded, a bit afraid to speak in the intimidating shadow of the rulers and their knights.
They were placed in cozy staterooms.  Crystal curled up beneath the warm blankets on the canopy bed, grateful for the softness after sleeping on the ground for so long.  They were meeting in council the next afternooon, and Crystal had decided to spend most of the next morning sleeping.
The sound of the fountains drifted up from the gardens, soothing her.  She could hear the river, a faint and far off rushing.  Crystal sighed contendedly, knowing that she must savor this night she spent in peace and safety.  In the future, they would be rare.  She blew out the candle.  the crickets were singing.  She fell asleep thinking of her parents back home.

Here's the translations for you.

a - Emos psuche estin poiema chairo oti fon ton eisodos fon ton basileus. - My heart is made glad because of the comming of the king.

b - emos kurios - my lord

c - emos basileus - my king

d - Proeidon Tassares - Foretold Four

e - emos - anepsios - my cousin

f - emos hetairos - my friend

BTW, new post on TruthSeeker!

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

1. I hate taking down the Christmas tree every year.

2. I would blow up the vacum cleaner if I could get away with it.

3. I keep breaking my pencil lead while writting exciting or intence scenes.

4. I get really annoyed when something is just plain black (like my Bible Bowl bag or my writing portfolio) so I trim it with  beads.

5. I like notebooks with pretty covers.

5 weird things about myself:

1. My CD rack is catagorized, and each of those catagories is alphabatized. 

2. I can be found in my room carrying on an animated conversation with someone who does not exsist.

3. I have dreamed the future.

4. I sometimes handle the computer mouse with my left hand but keep it on the right hand setting.

5. I keep being mistaken for one of my cousins.

5 things on my desk

1. Pencils.

2. A calander.

3. My digital clock.

4. A lamp

5. At least one notebook.

5 of your best friends:

1. My Bible Bowl team  

2. BookFreak

3. Everybody on my 'Friends' list.

4. Ashley (someone on the JV volleyball team with me)

5.  Kaitlyn (my off setter on the JV volleyball team)

5 things you love to do:

1. Write

2. Read

3. Play the piano

4. Find out what people's names mean

5. Run with my hair loose

5 people you tag:

1. BookFreak

2.  Starling

3. onedaymore

4. Altariel

5. Rose

Chapter Nine

The next day they were all exhausted.  Crystal awoke fairly early and relieved Argon, who had been on watch all night.  He collapsed on his blankets and promptly fell asleep.  Crystal stayed on watch until noon, when both boys roused themselves.  They cooked up some food from their provisions and fell to, unconcerned with the lack of utensils.
 Argon glanced over at Crystal who was docilely liking her fingers, marveling that she could make such an unrefined behavior appear so delicate.  His observation was suddenly interrupted by the angry, far off roar of a dragon.  Two black dragons appeared on the horizon.
 “They must be cohorts of the stranger and his dragon,” said Walker.  “I doubt they’re happy about yesterday’s deaths.”
 “The Death Riders Brac spoke of, Walker,” said Crystal, “Could these be them?” 
 “Aren’t they half demon?” said Walker.
 “Yes,” said Argon.  “At least, the stranger I killed yesterday looked half demon.”
 “Ugh,” said Crystal.
 The two dragons circled in.
 “What are we going to do?” Crystal wondered.
 They were suddenly aware of a glaring light behind them.  The Death Riders screamed in terror and fled.  Argon, Walker and Crystal slowly turned, shielding their eyes.
 The light was coming off a person.  His eyes were kind and filled with infinite wisdom.  Crystal felt wonderfully alive.  For a moment it seemed that the person was quite tall, but then she realized that she was on her knees, as were the others, although none of them thought it was strange.
 “Who are you?” whispered Argon in wonder.
 “I Am,” the stranger replied.  He motioned with his hand for them to rise, and they did so.  Either the light faded, or their eyes adjusted to it .  “There is a long, herd journey in front of all of you,” the I Am said.  “I have come to tell you things you need to know.”  He seated himself on a rock, and the trio dropped into the grass at his feet.  “There is one matter that you don’t need to know, but I will tell you for your own peace of mind.  Walker, Crystal, the messenger got to your parents, and he is bringing them to Elfarven.”
 “Thank you, Lord,” said Crystal.  “That puts my mind at ease.”
 “Now,” the Lord said, “you often wondered what went wrong with the enchantress’ spells, and you also wondered why you do not fly sporadically into the air any longer.  I shall tell you of the things, but to explain, however, you need a brief introduction to magic.
 “There is no such things as ‘Black’ or ‘White’ Magic.  ‘Magic’ is simply another name for demonic power.  To practice magic is to mess with demons.  Yes, this is what Hepsiba has done.  Beware, she could eventually become demon-possessed.  To tell the truth, none of the enchantress’ spells went wrong.  They merely...counteracted with each other in a somewhat complex series of ways.  You do not fly into the air because the flying spell has been absorbed into some of the spells that were cast on you.  Most pacifically the horse spell that was cast on you, Crystal, and the lizard spell that was cast on Walker.”
 “Soo...” said Walker, “Crystal would be a horse and I would be a lizard if we hadn’t been able to fly before said spells were cast?”
 “Yes.  The flying spell stayed somewhat independent for a short time afterward, but it was absorbed into the other spells very quickly.”
 The Lord Talked with them for hours.  The sun went down, and the sky began to darken.  The trio began to get drowsy, and, one by one, dropped off to sleep.

 The next day, Crystal awoke at dawn.  She pushed herself up on one elbow.  Argon and Walker were still asleep nearby.  The Lord was sitting on the rock, watching the sunrise.  She sat up.
 “Good morning, Crystal,” the Lord said.
 “Good morning,” she replied.
 Walker, slowly waking, rolled over and drew a deep breath, but his nose was right on a flower.  He sneezed violently, startling both himself and Argon.  Crystal giggled as Walker and Argon sat up suddenly and stared at each other with dazed expressions.
 “What blew up?” Walker asked sleepily.
 Crystal exploded with laughter.  “You sneezed, Walker,” she said between giggles.
 “Oh.”
 Argon looked up at the Lord.  “Well, we’ve got that worked out, now what?”
 “We go to Rindara.”
 They began to pack up the small camp.  Jenuel, as the Lord said they might call him, whistled.  Three unicorns raced toward them: a gray, a white and a brown.  Dawn also trotted towards them.  Argon mounted Dawn, Jenuel mounted the white unicorn, Crystal mounded the gray and Walker the brown.  They set off at a swift pace.
 They rode almost all day and reached Rindara in the late afternoon.  Most of the buildings were of colossal size, and several were built into the towering cliffs that skirted the nearby mountains.  The streets were paved with river rock.  Crystal drew her hood over her face.  The dismounted inside of town and led their mounts through the streets, searching for an inn.  Suddenly, Crystal tripped on something, lost her balance and nearly fell.  Walker caught her arm and half dragged her upright.
 “Oh, I beg your pardon, my lady!”  The voice would have belonged to a young man, but it was loud and came from rather high up.  It came from a large green dragon.  “I recently went through a growth spurt,” the dragon continued, “and I am still not used to the length of my tail.  My humblest apologies for having it out in the street.”
 “It’s alright,” said Crystal.  “I am unhurt.”
 A young man came out of a store near them.  He attempted to swing under the porch railing and ended up hitting his head on it.
 “I am Zephyr,” said the dragon, “and this is my Rider, Blake, who as also gone through a growth spurt.”
 “Nice to meet you, miss,” said Blake, rubbing his forehead.
 “We are looking for an inn,” said Walker.  “Do you know of a good one?”
 “Well,” said Blake,” the Red Lantern Inn down the street had goo accommodations.  I usually stay there.”
 “I will leave you now,” said Jenuel.   He turned his unicorn and galloped away.
 “I’m staying at the Red Lantern,” said Blake, “so Zephyr and I can take you there if you like.”  
 The Red Lantern Inn, like most of the buildings in Rindara, was huge.  It was built into a cliff; apparently made to accommodate several Riders and their dragons as well as non-Riders.  Some stable boys took their unicorns, and they entered the large common room.  There was a large variety of people there: travelers in dusty cloaks who told fantastic stories, old Riders and their dragons who lounged by the enormous fireplace, telling whoever cared to listen of the old days, and young Riders with their dragons perched on their shoulders who soaked up the stories like sponges.
 The innkeeper was a jolly fellow with seven daughters. 
 “Well now!” he said. “Blake, Zephyr, my old friends!  Your usual accommodations I suppose?  Yes, they’re empty.  Good, I’ll tell Tess to make sure things are ready.  Argon!  How are things going for you?  You know, with the ConRay family gone, you are in a very high position,” the innkeeper dropped his voice, “my lord king.  I’ll make sure your room does not have obvious windows.  Never know who might want you dead. 
 “Walker, Crystal, Jenuel came by to tell me about you.  He said you should no longer wear your hood.  This is the time to reveal your identity.  Dara!” the innkeeper called to another one of his daughters, “see that their room is next to Argon’s.  Would you like your supper down here or in your rooms?”
 Argon, Walker and Crystal looked around the room and saw nothing hostile.  “We’ll take it down here,” the replied.
 Zephyr excused himself to go hunting.
 “What was that ‘my lord king’ thing about?” Blake asked in an undertone as they waited for supper.  “Are you Amara’s heir, Argon?”
 Argon sighed.  “Yes.  I was hoping to keep it quiet, but everyone seems to know it.”
 “Everyone two had read the prophecy will know as seen as they lay eyes on you!  Everything fits in!  The time draws near to the restoration of the kingdom!”
 “I have spent four years at the School of Lore, and I have never heard of this prophecy,” said Argon.  “Where has it been all this time?”
 “Hidden from you three,” said Blake.  “It is not for us to know our own destiny.  The prophecy is well kept; there would only by two or three places it could be found.  The School’s professors read the times well; they would have known the time was near when you came.  They simply hid it away.”
 “What if I fail to restore the kingdom?” asked Argon.
 “The prophecy does not speak of failure,” Blake replied.
 “I just don’t feel like I’m worthy to take up the kingship.”
 “Then you are the true king.  Where are you headed now?”
 “The School of Lore.”
 “I would offer to take you there, but Zephyr cannot bear all of us.”
 “Blake, does the prophecy speak of powers?” Walker asked suddenly.
 Blake looked surprised.  “Yes,” he said cautiously.
 You take Argon,” said Walker.  “Crystal and I will be right beside you, literally.”
 “...Alright...tomorrow morning, outside of town?” 
 “Yes.  We’ll rest when we get to the School,” said Crystal.
 “What about Dawn?” asked Argon.
 “I know a friend who can bring him down to the school,” said Blake.  “He’ll be fine.”
 With these thing settled, they were able to enjoy the good supper.  Blake was very interested in their account of the Death Rider’s attempt to kidnap Crystal, and Argon’s duel with the Death Rider, as well as their other experiences.
 “I have had friends tell me of seeing strange riders on black dragons, but none have ever been attacked.  But you are three of a group called ‘The Prophesied Four’: those who would set things as right as they can be in the broken world.  You will be one of the dark force’s prime targets.”
 “Is the exiled Prince Brian of Corvan the fourth?” asked Walker.
 “Yes.  Tell me, have you heard any of the prophecy?”
 “We have,” said Crystal.    She recited the parts they knew.
 “Who told you?” Blake asked when she had finished.
 “Lord Tarian.”
 “The Lord Tarian?  To whom the prophecy was originally given?”
 “Yes.”
 “Then I trust he told you all you need to know.  The rest will be revealed in to you in due time.”
 “You know the entire prophecy?” asked Argon.
 “Yes, but I will not tell it to you; it would give more anxiety that assistance,” Blake looked piercingly at Walker for a moment, then looked down into the mug of cold cider.
 Argon nodded.  “One’s fate is not for them to know.  Blake, how far is it to the School of Lore by dragonback?
 Blake looked up from his contemplation of the cider and pulled out a map.  “Here is Teranse, the country of the Elves.  To the west is Eresna, to the south Strianel and to the south-west, Corvan.  We are here, in Rindara, about a day’s journey north of the Teranse/Strianel border.  Now the School of Lore is here, on the bank of the Nitrasia River in the Sarco Mountains.”  Blake measured the distance with his fingers.  “I’d say...two days, give or take a bit.  We’ll be there in a more timely fashion than if we followed the road.”

 Argon, Blake and Zephyr left early the next morning.  Walker and Crystal followed them on foot until they were well out of town.
 “Crystal,” said Walker, “I want to try something.”
 “What?” Crystal asked.
 “Well, I was thinking that if you were on my back before I morphed, it would save you the trouble of mounting.”
 “Okay...” said Crystal.
 Walker lifted her piggy-back, then morphed.  Crystal released a sharp cry of surprise as the ground dropped from under her.  Walker looked back at her. “You alright?” he asked.
 “Yes,” Crystal replied.
 Walker took off.  They were not in the air for long before they saw Argon, Blake and Zephyr.  Walker landed smoothly near them.
 “Where’s Walker?” asked Blake.
 “Right here,” said Walker.  He morphed back to human form, and Crystal slid off his back.
 “Powers indeed,” said Blake.  “Alright, let’s get going.”
 Crystal hopped onto Walker’s back, and he morphed.
 “Here, Zephyr,” said Walker, “since I’ve only got one person on me, why don’t you let me carry the supplies?”
 “That’s very kind of you,” said Zephyr, carefully lifting the bundle of supplies onto Walker’s back. 
 “Not at all,” Walker replied, “just unload me before I return to human form.”
 “Got it,” said Argon.  He and Blake jumped onto Zephyr’s back, and the dragons took off.
 The day went well; the only difficulty was the winds that raced around the mountains they flew next to.  Zephyr, however, was very good at using these air currents to his advantage.  Walker followed his lead, and they had no mishaps.
 They crossed the boarder into Strianel before they camped that night.
 “What’s the situation here,” Argon asked.
 “Well,” said Blake,” The VenTal’s are highly interested in the throne.  I think it’s safe to say that Princess Alaina died because of wounds inflicted when they tried to kill her.  They have always had ruling ambitions.  Ichabod VenTal thought he would have the throne when he attempted to get Princess Josephina ConVal to marry him.  The ConVal’s were on the throne at the time; it was thought that Derek ConRay had died without an heir.  When Tell ConRay, Derek’s son, appeared and married Josephina, it caused problems for the VenTal’s.  But now their chance has come again, with nothing but an Elvish sword, an old promise, and a forgotten line of kings in their way.”
 “Not quite forgotten,” said Argon.  “Not quite.”
 “Indeed,” said Blake, his eyes brightening.  “Indeed.  The true Sarconians will have held on, and they will help you.  Other Strianelians will too.  I may be a Rider, but I am also a Strianelian, and you are my king until the day I die.”
 “We may be of Corvanie decent, and we may be Eresnan raised,” said Walker, “but my sister and I will follow you, and none but the Lord of Heaven will break our loyalty.”

BTW, there is another post on TruthSeeker : Do We Really Have A  Faith?

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

Princess Alaina ConRay’s funeral was a few days later.  The young princess was laid in a vault until it was safe to take her body to Stragillia.
 The preparations for the trip to Sarconia City began.  Mad Della, now recovered from her madness, gently advised those leaving not to forget the Lord of Heaven.  When they asked her what she meant, she said, “You will learn in due time.”
 Argon Walker and Crystal left Elfarven quietly.  Crystal and Walker flew above Argon, and Crystal returned to human form only at night.
 They crossed the Alasie River and camped near the south bank.  Both Walker and Argon left the camp, leaving Crystal alone.  Suddenly, there was a rush of wings overhead, and a black dragon swooped overhead and landed in front of Crystal.  She gasped and backed away.  A figure cloaked in dirty brown leaped from the dragon’s back and drew a seraraded scimitar from under his cloak. 
 “You will come with me,” he said to Crystal.
 “No,” said Crystal, pulling out her dagger, which seemed small and insignificant next to her enemy’s weapon.
 The stranger swung at her, and she jumped back.  Glancing down, she saw a thick stick who’s end was in the fire like a torch.  Catching it up, she lunged at her opponent.  He stepped back, then attacked her furiously.  Crystal was not as skilled at the stranger and soon found herself on the defensive.  The stranger laughed and moved in for the kill, but Crystal thrust her torch in his face.  The stranger stepped back and turned to his dragon.  “Kill her,’ he said.
 The dragon reared back its head.  Crystal shifted her feet, suspecting that it would thrust its head toward her.  If it did, there was a chance that she could avoid death.  As the dragon thrust its head at her, she leaped and caught hold of its neck.
 The stranger lunged at her, but she parried his sword.  The dragon flung its head violently about, trying to throw her off.  With a desperate move, Crystal stabbed the dragon in the eye.  The dragon began to roar and thrash in pain.  Its depth perception was now impaired, and, in its wild thrashings, it knocked the stranger unconscious with its tail.
 The dragon slowly stopped thrashing.  Then, quite suddenly, it took off.  Crystal let go, hoping to drop to the ground, but the dragon caught her it its claws.
 “No!”  Crystal screamed.  She began to thrash violently but to no avail.
 There was a yell below her.  Crystal looked down and saw Argon and Walker.  Walker had morphed into a dragon, and Argon was sitting atop him, shouting defiance.
 Never had Crystal felt so helpless.  The dragon was holding her in such a way that would make it almost impossible to attack it without hurting her.  She twisted and struggled, but the dragon’s grip was relentless.  She stabbed at the dragon, but her wild blows were of no affect.
 Suddenly, Walker swooped close, and Argon slashed at the dragon.  The dragon loosed its grip just enough for Crystal to wriggle from its grasp and scramble into the saddle.
 “Crystal!  Jump!” yelled Argon.  “I’ll catch you!”
 Crystal took a deep breath.  This was no time for fear.  She leaped.  For a slight bit, she fell.  The Walker caught her.  She eventually managed to clamber up behind Argon and flung an arm around his waist.  The black dragon, instead of attacking Walker, began attacking Crystal and Argon.  Maneuvering became increasingly difficult. 
 “We have got to get off of here!” Argon yelled.  “Walker, can you get us down?”
 Walker dove and skimmed as close to the ground as he could.  At the speed they were going, however, it was too far to jump.
 “Now what?” yelled Crystal.
 “I don’t know!” Argon returned as the black dragon dove at them.
 A wild plan began to form in Crystal’s mind.  She shouted it to her companions, and they agreed to it; the could think of nothing else to do.  After a moments hesitation, Argon and Crystal threw themselves from Walker’s back.  Walker caught them quickly and dove for the ground.  Crystal looked under her.  The ground was growing steadily closer; yards, then feet.  When the distance was mere inches, Walker dropped them and swooped away to engage the black dragon in combat.
 “You’re both mine now!”
 Argon and Crystal turned to see that it was the stranger who had spoken.  Both of them rose to their feet.
 “Leave now,” said Argon.
 The stranger laughed humorlessly.  “Me?  Go away?  At your command?  You should be a jester in my master’s court.”  The stranger’s voice smoothed like oil.  “Come now, lad.  What is that girl to you?  Come with me; bring her to the court of my master.  Ah, she clings to you.  But what is she worth?  Hardly anything at all, yet my master will be pleased if you give her to him, and you will receive many girls in exchange.”
 “Shut you foul mouth,” said Argon coldly.  “She travels under my protection.  If you want her, you’ll have to kill me first.”  Argon shifted his left arm back, exposing the hilt of his sword.  “Crystal,” he said softly, not taking his eyes from his enemy, “I know you are frightened, and I know that hanging onto me helps you stay somewhat calm, but I’m afraid I need the use of my arm.”
 Crystal let go of Argon’s arm and stepped back.  The stranger pulled out his scimitar.  With a calm decisiveness, Argon drew his sword.  “Crystal,” he said, “put you dagger down on that rock and take three good-sized steps away from it.  It’s one of the rules for dueling; the person being fought over cannot interfere with things, save vocally.”
 “That...fellow won’t abide by the rules of combat and dueling,” hissed Crystal.
 “We won’t sink to his level.  If I am rendered incapable of fighting, you have every right to fight for yourself.  Until then...”
 Crystal set her dagger down on the rock and took three steps away from it.  There was no sound except that of the river and the faint roaring of the dragons who fought above them.  Both fighters were motionless.  Then Argon sprang forward.  The clash of steel bit the air, and the duel was begun.  Crystal watched nervously.  Both Argon and the stranger were brilliant swordsmen, but Argon was clearly better.  The body of the stranger was soon covered with nicks from Argon’s sword, but Argon remained unharmed.  The stranger made a sudden dash for Crystal and tackled her.  Her head struck a rock.  Through a blur, she saw Argon kick the stranger off her.  Then everything went black.

 When Crystal awoke, it was dusk.  Argon had carried her back to their original camp.  She was laying on a bed of grass, a blanket over her.
 “The stranger!” she gasped, sitting up.
 “Dead,” said Argon, pressing her back.
 “Walker?”
 “He hasn’t come back yet.”
 “He isn’t... he couldn’t be...”
 “He’s probably fine.”
 Crystal closed her eyes and fell asleep.
 
 She was flying through the air...twists, turns, losing her grip...falling...falling... Lying on her back in the grass, unable to move.  The headless body of the stranger dragging itself toward her...his head laughing wildly.  Walker, in dragon form, lying dead nearby...Argon, under him, also dead... The headless figure grabbing her...

 She woke up screaming.
 “Whoa, whoa,” said Argon.  “You’re okay, you’re okay.”  He pulled her blankets around her.  “Walker just came back.  He’s very tired and is fast asleep.”  A wolf howled, and Crystal shuddered.  Argon patted her shoulder.  “It’s alright.”
 The dark visions still throbbing through her mind, Crystal reached up and cautiously touched Argon’s hand, seeking comfort.  Her fingers brushed the signet ring, and she was reminded that Argon was destined to be a king.  And who was she?  Just a poor farm girl from a small homestead a few miles outside of the ramshackle town of Solarin, Eresna.  She pulled her hand back and closed her eyes.  Argon’s too high for me...
 
 Argon looked down at the sleeping Crystal.  She had gone back to sleep soon enough after her nightmare, but she had begun to toss and turn; he watched her anxiously.  She slowly ceased to toss, but her blankets resembled a magpie’s nest.  He pulled them over her so the cold night draft would not disturb her sleep.
 The granddaughter of the Corvanie king!  He was royalty, yes, now that the ConRay family was gone, but Strianel was small compared to Corvan.  Crystal was of high linage.  The line she came from had always held power but the Breakers? Why, a few hundred years before, the Breakers were no more than rebellious Corvanie subjects who left Corvan with a few followers and set up a kingdom in the mountains.  If they were in Corvan now?  Well, Crystal would be living as a granddaughter of the king.  And I?  thought Argon, At the very highest, I would be part of her guard.  Even the friendship we are developing now would be considered presumptuous on my part.  Keep yourself in check, Argon.  She’s of too high a linage for you.  Argon turned back to his watch.
 
         

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

Tags from Nimrodel:

1. What time frame does your story take place in?  A medival sort of place (it's in a different world)
2. Who is the main character in your story?  I have three main characters; Walker and Crystal Firestone and Argon Breaker. 

3. What three words best describe your main characters?  Walker: Loyal, Intelligent, Convicted.  Crystal: Kind-hearted, Couragous, Encouraging.  Argon: Loyal, Humble, a Leader.
4. When was the last time you had inspiration for your story?   Today.
5. What cased your inspiration?   Random thinking about...stuff.
6. What music do you usually listen to when writing your story?   Enya and soundtracks.
7. What book/movie most influenced your story?   It's prequal started a long way back as a Man From Snowy River fanfiction sort of thing, this one...LotR and MFSR and other books I've read.
8.  How long have you been working on your story?   Around a year, maybe more.
9. Do you think better while laying down or sitting up? Actually, I recline.
10. Which place inspires you most?   The mountains.

Something you have wanted for a long time: A sibling my age.

Something you dream about:  Having my story published and finding true love (we girls are allowed to dream about that sort of thing, right?)

Your favorite bible passage: Acts 4:13 and Joshua 1:9

A word that describes you: Random.

Something you strive for: Good writing.

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

Okay, Curufinwe.  Here's the long chapter you've wanted. :)

The preparations for the trip to Hepsiba’s castle started that afternoon.  ‘Lady Stella’ conveniently disappeared for a time, and Crystal, in her pegasus form, allowed some skilled grooms to look over her wings.  Nearby, Dawn was being freshly shod.
 Cecilwyn stood just inside the door, shyly watching Walker, who was whittling arrows.  Finally she went over to him.
 “Will you come back?” she asked.
 “Provided I’m not dead,” Walker replied.  “Why do you want to know?”
 “Because I still love you, in a way.”  Cecilwyn left the room.
 “Surprising,” said Argon, who had just come up.  “She would have dumped most people for that lecture you gave her.”
 “Not surprising at all,” said Walker.  “Her mother’s encouraging her to keep trying to win me.”
 “Will she?”
 “As she is now?  Doubtful.”

 They left early the next afternoon.
 “Now what?” asked Walker.  
 “We go down the new road; the one that leads through the Arven Lake-bed instead of going around it.  Then we call for Mad Della,” said Argon.
 Crystal shook her head, and the bit jingled.  She wasn’t so sure about consulting a madwoman.  Argon and Dawn both reassured her, and she followed them off the mesa and into the Arven Lake-bed.
 They were deep in the lake-bed when Argon softly said, “Dismount.” He slid off Dawn and stood at the unicorn’s head, holding the bridle loosely.  Walker dropped off Crystal and waited nervously beside his friend.  “Della?” Argon called.
 Moments later, a young woman dropped out of the tree above them.  She was terrifying in appearance: her skin was an almost colorless white, her lips were bright red, her hair was black and her eyes deep brown.  She was dressed in stained buckskin, and her two-inch fingernails were sheathed in silver: sharp deadly talons.
 “What do you ask of Mad Della?” she hissed.
 “Can you give us information?” asked Argon.
 “Depends!” spat Della.  “Depends on how you use Mad Della’s information... wether for good...” she ran the tips of her talons down Walker’s cheek, and he shuddered, “...or evil.”  She clicked her talons together and looked at the boys out of the side of her eye.
 “We’re trying to rescue someone from Hepsiba, and we need an entrance to the castle,” said Argon.
 “What!?  Are you so dense as to not be able to find the main gate?  Brainless!”
 “We know where the main gate is,” said Walker.  “We don’t want to use it.”
 “We need a secret entrance,” said Argon.
 Della flung back her head and laughed wildly.  “Then you are smart.  Come, Mad Della will tell you all.”  She turned and raced through the forest, Argon and Walker following.
 She stopped next to a stream and patted the wet sand until it was smooth.  “I know the castle,” she said, drawing a diagram with the tip of one of her talons.  “I learned it well when I was the slave of Hepsiba’s accursed boyfriend, may he die in pain!”  Della screamed wildly.  “He took my mind with his tortures!  I KILL!”
 “I’m sure he deserves to die,” said Argon.
 This approval of her statement seemed to calm Della.  “Very smart.  Now, the main gate is here.  Secret door is here.  Secret door is also forgotten door; intelligent boys will have no trouble.”
 “Thank you, Della,” said Walker.
 “We have good news for you, Della, said Argon.
 Della screamed with laughter.  “Good news for Mad Della?  Maybe boys not so smart.”
 “Your brother, Jothan, is still alive,” said Argon.
 “Jothan?” whispered Della.  “Alive?  Where?”
 “He is coming for you.”
 Della’s breathing quickened. “The information is well repaid.  Go.  Go rescue person and scare enchantress.  Kill her boyfriend.  Throw him off a tower into the moat.  Throw the enchantress of the tower too.  Then they can die together.  So romantic.”  Della sprang across the creek and vanished into the brush.
 They finished crossing the lake-bed and camped on the south side of it that night.  Crystal returned to human form.
 “How long will it take us?” Walker asked.
 “We should be there the afternoon of the day after tomorrow.  At that point, we shouldn’t waste any time.  We should grab Nibor as quickly as possible.”  Argon looked up at the sky; Crystal noticed that the broach on his cloak was the same as hers.  “The nights here are short,” he continued.  “We should get some sleep.

 The next day of travel went without event.  That night they hid their camp, for they intended to sneak into Hepsiba’s castle the next day and did not want their approach heralded.
 They reached Hepsiba’s castle late the next afternoon.  The secret door was right where Mad Della had told them it would be.  Walker put and arrow to the string, Argon drew his sword, and the darted inside the castle.
 It did not take long to find the dungeon.  It was not empty, but none of the woeful prisoners took notice of them.  In a near-deserted part of the dungeon, they found a young Elf of about twelve years laying on the stone floor of a cell.
 Argon gripped one of the bars on the door.  “Nibor?”
 The Elf sat up.  “Who’s there?” she asked bravely.
 “Friends,” said Argon.
 “We’re here to rescue you,” said Crystal, who had just come up.
 “Are you alright?” asked Walker.  “I’m Walker, this is my sister, Crystal, and this is Argon Breaker.  We’re getting you out of here.”
 “How do you intend to do that?” Nibor asked, standing up.
 “Like this,” said Crystal, thrusting her dagger through the locking mechanism and greatly weakening it.  Argon jerked the door open.
 “Where did you get that knife?” Nibor asked.  “It looks familiar.”
 “An elderly fellow who helped my brother and I escape from here gave it to me,” Crystal said.  “Do you know of him?”
 “Yes, I do.  He’s Hepsiba’s old mentor.”
 “Ah,” said Crystal.
 “He’s talked to me a few times too.  I know that she wants to make me her apprentice; I think perhaps you already know that.”
 “We do.”  Crystal turned to Walker and Argon.  “The enchantress is nearby.  I’ll go and keep watch.”  She raced back through the dungeon.
 Suddenly Kolumbo appeared.   “GAAAAA!  Noooo!” he wailed.
 Argon clapped a hand over Kolumbo’s mouth.  “Shhhh.  We have to be quiet.”
 “Oops.  Sorry.” Kolumbo muttered something, and Nibor disappeared.
 “What did you do?” hissed Argon.
 “Ooooppss...um...my...uh...teleporting skills...um....aren’t...uh...really good...um...sorry.”
 “Bring her back!”
 “Right.  Let’s see...” Kolumbo muttered something.  Nibor appeared and Kolumbo vanished.

 Crystal raced up the stairs and through the passages that led to the secret door.  Voices came from a room, and Crystal peeked around the doorframe.
 “You are the most beautiful woman in the world, my dearest Zenphanis,” said a dark-haired man who was sitting on a low backed couch next to the enchantress.
 The woman he calls ‘Zenphanis’ is Hepsiba! Crystal thought.  But who is he?
 “You say the sweetest things, Menian,” said Hepsiba.
 The dark lord himself!  I am standing here, watching the most evil people in the world be sweet on each other.  Walker, Argon and Nibor came up behind her.  She motioned with her hand, and they shrank against the wall.  The mushy conversation between the dark lord and the enchantress continued.  Crystal waited.  Hepsiba’s face was very close to Menian’s, and soon it began getting closer.  Six inches...five...four...three...two...one...there!  What Crystal had been waiting for had happened; the couple was tightly lip-locked and therefore oblivious to their surroundings.  She motioned to the others, and they ran out of the castle.

 They raced across the meadow to the edge of the forest where Dawn had been left.  There was an enraged scream.  The enchantress appeared and thrust her wand in front of her.  A ball of energy struck Walker, and he fell to the ground, unconscious.
 Argon wheeled Dawn, drew his sword, and positioned himself between Walker and the enchantress.  Crystal was already beside her brother.
 “Walker!”
 Walker moaned, and Crystal noticed that his breath was oddly warm.  Suddenly, he leaped to his feet and morphed into a green dragon.  The enchantress released a nervous squeak.  Walker brought his head down a few inches from the enchantress’ and roared.  The enchantress was blown back a few feet, and she fainted.  Walker looked smug from a moment then gave Crystal a look that clearly said: “Let’s get out of here.”
 Crystal threw a spare cloak across Walker’s back, took a running leap, and landed on the cloak.  Argon tossed Nibor up behind her.
 “You set the pace,” said Crystal to Argon.  Dawn and Argon raced away while Walker took off.

 Argon kept up a breakneck speed until the sky darkened.  He stopped in the spreading dusk.   Walker landed.
 “I’d like to get back to Elfarven quickly,” said Argon.  “Should we keep going?”
 “Yes,” said Crystal; Walker nodded.  They traveled most of the night.  Crystal and Nibor went to sleep and, below them, Argon dozed.
 It went much like this the second day; they only stopped to quickly eat or drink.  They reached the edge of the Arven Lake-bed at dusk.  After deciding to get to Elfarven that night, they continued, although Crystal morphed into a pegasus and galloped beside Dawn.   Walker and Nibor were on her back, for Walker was tired from the constant flying.
 Halfway through the lake-bed, they heard wild laughter.  In a clearing near the road, Mad Della was dancing around a fire.  At intervals, she would fling something into the fire that would pop and spark and burn with strange colors.  This show apparently pleased Mad Della immensely, for she laughed wildly when the fire sparked.
 “Della!”
 Della stopped dancing and turned toward the edge of the clearing.  A young man stood there.
 “That’s Jothan,” Argon whispered to his companions.
 “Hallucination!”  Della screamed.  “Go away!  Leave poor Della alone!”
 “I’m not a hallucination,” said Jothan.
 “They all say that!  Prove it!”
 “Very well,” said Jothan, striding across the clearing and putting his hands on Della’s shoulders.  “Pinch me.”
 “Jothan,” Della said brokenly.  She slumped to the ground in a dead faint.
 “Jothan!” called Argon entering the clearing with Walker, Crystal and Nibor.
 Jothan turned.  “Argon!”  They greeted each other happily, and Argon introduced the others.  Jothan whistled softly, and a unicorn trotted out of the woods. “My unicorn, Black Star.”  Jothan turned to his sister.  “Good heavens, Della.  What has grief done to you?”
 “We should get her to Elfarven,” said Argon.
 “Yes,” said Jothan.  He put Della on Black Star and sprang up behind her.  Argon had Nibor mount behind him, and the two unicorns sprang away.  Walker and Crystal flew above them; all were going top speed.

 Their arrival in Elfarven caused quite a stir in the house of Elwin.  Crystal was snuck into her chambers by Tarian, who told her to reappear as the Lady Stella.  Nibor was whisked off by her mother and sister.  Jothan and Argon took Della into a room and laid her on a couch.
 Jothan pulled off the silver sheaths on Della’s fingernails and trimmed them to a normal length.  Tarian appeared in the room with a bowl of vinegar and a cloth.  He dipped the cloth in the vinegar, squeezed it out and wiped it down Della’s arm.  The whiteness fell away, revealing lightly tanned skin.  He continued this until her arms were cleared.  Then he wiped the makeup off her face, and those watching realized why it had been applied.
 Della’s face was flawless, or had been.  Now a white scar slashed from her temple to her jaw on the right side of her face.  Small tendrils of white branched off it like veins.
 Della’s eyes slowly flickered open.  Jothan traced a finger down the star, a shocking mar on such delicate features.  “What happened?” he asked.
 “Menian...the dark lord.” said Della.  “He tried to make me marry him.  I, naturally, refused.  He said that if he could not have such a great beauty, no one would.  That’s when he cut my face.  He kept me around though, hurt me and taunted me.  I escaped, but my mind...it left.  I didn’t know what was real and what was my imagination.  I would hallucinate my old life for a time, then, suddenly, it would all disappear and I would be left alone.  But Jothan...you’re real, I can tell.”  Brother and sister embraced.

Translated From Sarconian Annals - Draft Volume II

Crystal left the council with Walker And Argon, and they headed for Walker’s chambers. Cecilwyn intercepted them.
"Why?" she wailed, throwing her arms around Walker so that his arms were pinned. "Why the cruelty with the ice cube? You don’t love me!"
"No, I don’t," Walker said roughly. The tone of his voice startled Cecilwyn, and she loosened her hold. Walker pushed her to arm’s length. "If this is love, I want nothing to do with it. You are acting foolish!" Tears drizzled down Cecilwyn’s cheeks, and her shoulders began to shake with sobs, but Walker, seeing that he was getting through, continued his tirade. "I am this far from thinking that you are the most empty-headed person that I’ve ever met!!"
"What do you want?" sobbed Cecilwyn.
"For you to get rid of your silly notions of love," said Walker in a softer tone. He picked up a light blanket from a nearby bench and draped it around Cecilwyn’s shoulders. "and to realize that appearance doesn’t mean everything; showing more skin doesn’t make your prettier, it’s how you act that will matter in the long run."
Cecilwyn sniffed and wiped her wet face with the corner of the blanket. "You think I’m pretty?"
"Maybe." Walker stepped past Cecilwyn and continued down the hall; Argon and Crystal followed him.
They were sitting in Walker’s chambers, talking, when there was a tap on the door. Tarian entered, leaning on his staff and carrying a bundle.
"Argon, Walker, Crystal..." Crystal started at the use of her real name, and Tarian laughed. "Brac told me about you. You needn’t keep your hood on because of me."
Crystal took this as a signal that she should show her face, and she cast back her hood. Tarian’s eyes widened; his face wore a stunned expression.
"What?" asked Crystal.
"Nothing that you won’t be told in due time," Tarian replied, recovering himself. "Good heavens, black cloaks are for spies, widows, morning folk and dark lords, not for lovely young women."
Crystal flushed at the compliment.
"So," said Tarian, "I’ve brought something more appropriate. Here’s a gray cloak for traveling. I know you were given one when you escaped Hepsiba, but this is more fitting for reasons that I’ll explain later." Tarian drew a gray cloak clasped with a silver unicorn-shaped broach out of his bundle. "Here," he said, drawing out a purple cloak trimmed with silver and clasped with a silver, jewel-studded unicorn broach, "put this on. Ah, there. Black really does not become you. Purple is better by far. Walker, here." Tarian handed Walker a green cloak clasped with a dragon-shaped broach. "Now, I’m terribly sorry to break up your party, but Crystal must remain in this house as the Lady Stella, and I’ve been told to take her to her chambers."
Crystal followed Tarian down the hall to a room only a few doors away from Walker. It was decorated in purple and mahogany. Crystal’s eyes were draw to a chair near the center of the room. Over it was draped a deep blue cloak. Assorted precious stones had been used to create a pattern of flowering vines on it. The mother-of-pearl clasp had a unicorn on one side and a panther on the other.
"It’s so beautiful I’m afraid to touch it," said Crystal.
Tarian smiled. "The time comes when you will you will wear it."
"I wouldn’t dare!"
Tarian only laughed slightly. "I’ll send someone to get you for lunch."
Crystal lost no time exploring her room. There was a washroom, and Crystal quickly took advantage of the hot water that had been drawn. After bathing, she pulled on a green underdress. She found the darker green overdress in the wardrobe. She braided her hair was trying to coil and pin the mass when she heard footsteps. Bigger hands gently pushed her struggling fingers aside and easily brought the unruly hair under control.
Crystal turned around. "Argon!"
Argon smiled. "Who else?"
"Crystal lifted her hands to her hair. "How...?"
"My mother always needed help with her hair." Argon draped Crystal’s purple cloak around her. "That’s how."
"Tarian-"
"Sent me to get you for lunch. I’m starved. Councils always make me hungry. As soon as you complete your incognito look, we’ll go."
Crystal flung her hood over her face, and they left the room.