Welcome to Dreamspinner! This is a sequel to my previous story, "Half-Breed: A Kingdoms Story", so if you want to read this and haven't read that I recommend you do so first. It can be found here in the Castle forum. As before, I appreciate constructive criticism, and your reactions, but please try not to clutter up the topic with them; I want it to be easy for readers to follow the story posts. If you would like, you can post about this story on the "Half-Breed" topic.
This will be a little different from "Half-Breed" in a few ways. First, I will be using flashbacks. Not all of them will be clearly stated to be flashbacks, but it should be clear from the events described. If you get confused at any point, tell me and I will explain things. I will also be doing just one Part, and no Author's Notes, though I may throw in a new characters list at the end.
As of writing this, I have not yet completed the story. I am at 84 chapters and I expect to end with something over 100. I will do my best to post one chapter (one chapter = one post) per day, but I may miss some days. The story begins tomorrow, 12/19/18.
-last edited on Dec 19, 2018 16:48:27 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Dec 19, 2018 16:48:11 GMT
Prologue
By all rights, the man who lived in the mountains should not have been alive. To survive all alone in the inhospitable northern reaches took either incredible skill in the art of survival or a whole lot of luck. Probably both, in fact. Anyone who knew the man would have said he possessed neither, but something had kept him alive for ten years. Perhaps it was the singular drive that pushed him forward day after day, the rage that boiled inside him, the desire for vengeance. His singular focus on these things, maybe, might be what kept him alive when food was scarce and when the elements bit him to the bone. He knew that if he was smashed now, he could never return home and take what was rightfully his. He could never enact his revenge on the family that had betrayed him.
On this particular day, the man who lived in the mountains was very hungry. He had long ago learned how to set traps for any unsuspecting creature that wandered too close to his territory, but each time they soon learned not to come too close and he would have to find a new place. Now, ten years on, there were fewer and fewer places he had yet to go, and fewer still that would provide enough shelter to keep him safe from the elements. The man who lived in the mountains had long since discovered that hunting was a futile effort without the proper equipment, and that was not something he knew how to procure. And yet desperation had forced his hand twice in recent weeks to set out with only the minimal supplies he had crafted from the remains of past meals. Both times, he had failed. Now, he was too fatigued to go out again. He would sleep, instead, and when he awoke he would go out once more.
He dreamed of leading an army of shadowy creatures – the souls of the smashed, a voice told him – and returning to his lost tribe to enact his revenge. Each man, woman, and child he smashed became a new recruit to his army. He led them as a glorious conqueror, defeating all who stood in his way, until at last the whole world was his and all chanted his name. “Skorj! Skorj! Skorj!” The man who lived in the mountains smiled in his sleep.
-last edited on Dec 20, 2018 15:52:43 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Dec 20, 2018 15:52:06 GMT
Chapter 1
Time travel was one of the most difficult – and most dangerous – fields of magic. Sending an object through time was simple enough, with the right power and knowledge, but a person? Many, if not most, deemed it impossible. And yet Skirj was determined to succeed. Holed up near the top of the Tower of Temporal Manipulation, as he had been for weeks, he began to put the finishing touches on yet another attempt.
The calculations were complete, the diagrams perfectly aligned to match them, the key ingredient – an item that was present in the chosen time and place – set in the center. All that was left was to prepare the catalyst, pour it into the proper spots, and say the words. Ever so carefully, Skirj scooped up the finely ground crystal, measuring it once, twice, three times to ensure he had the perfect amount, and poured it into the vial. Four drops of a faintly glowing red liquid with a strongly ferrous smell, crushed pieces of seven different magical herbs, and just a single drop of the highly volatile brown sludge that made it all come together. Taking deep breath and a pause to steady his hands – not too long, lest the ingredients lose their short-lived power – Skirj trickled the mixture onto the appropriate areas of his diagram and stepped into the middle, feet on either side of the key item. “It’s going to work this time, brother. I can feel it. I’m going to bring you back.”
One more deep breath, and he began to speak the words that would activate the spell. At first, it seemed to be working. The diagrams slowly began to glow with an ethereal orange light, the color of Skirj’s magic, starting from the areas where the catalyst had been poured and then spreading throughout until it reached the center, where the shirt Skirj had worn on the night they closed the Well lay folded. The light grew in intensity until Skirj had to close his eyes to keep from being blinded, but he kept speaking the words. He didn’t see what happened next, but he heard the deafening boom and felt himself flying through the air before his head struck something hard and consciousness fled.
-last edited on Dec 21, 2018 15:03:42 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Dec 21, 2018 15:03:14 GMT
Chapter 2
The first thing Skirj felt was pain. On the back of his head, all along his back, in every joint, pain. Slowly, wary of causing the pain to flare up any greater than it already was, he began to open his eyes. An intense light greeted him, and he immediately closed his eyes again. A few moments passed, and he started on another attempt. This time, his eyes adjusted just quick enough, and after a short burst of rapid blinking he could see. His surroundings were sterile, and plain. The bed he was in was small but comfortable. And looming above him was a familiar shock of purple hair and deep blue eyes. “Wisdom?”
The man-who-was-Other smiled sadly. “Indeed. Welcome back to the land of the living, Skirj. You took quite a blow to the head. You’re lucky the explosion was pretty loud, or no one might have found you for days.”
“There was an explosion?” Skirj tried to sit up, but the pain was too much, and he forced himself to be content with staying still for now.
The same sad smile and a slow nod, “Your spell got out of control and nearly smashed you. Really, Skirj, you should know better than to attempt something so obviously fake.”
The knowledge that he had failed hurt almost as much as his physical injuries. “Fake? But it was working. I know it was. It was going to send me back, so I could save Skrag.”
Wisdom shook his head. “Don’t delude yourself, Skirj. This was a spell made to trick desperate people like you, the same as half a dozen of the others you’ve tried this past month. The worst part is you knew it was, but your obsession with saving your brother clouded your judgement.”
-last edited on Dec 22, 2018 15:18:37 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Dec 22, 2018 15:18:08 GMT
Chapter 3
Skirj tried to protest. “But the pieces were there. The item from the time I want to be in, the diagrams and calculations. All I need is the right way to activate it. Just a little more experimentation, a little more time and research, and I know I can do it.”
Wisdom looked away as he said that and Skirj felt a sinking dread deep in his stomach. “There is no more time Skirj, no more research. The Board has run out of patience, and, frankly, so have I. We’ve elected to expel you from the Towers, effective as soon as you are fully healed.”
This time, Skirj pushed past the pain and forced himself to sit up. “You can’t! I need the resources here! This is the only place that can tell me how to save him!”
“Listen to yourself, Skirj! You’re obsessed! It was three months ago. He’s gone, and you can’t change that. You need to learn to accept reality, and you can’t do that here, spending all your time trying to reverse it. You were nearly smashed yesterday. If the explosion had been much bigger, everyone in that Tower could have been!”
The pain was too much now and Skirj fell back onto the bed with a groan. “At least let me take some books with me. I know the information I need is here somewhere; I just need to look harder.”
“No, Skirj. It’s over.” Wisdom stood up and marched out of the room, leaving Skirj alone. The goblin wept for a long time, until he finally fell asleep once again. He had many dreams, and each was of Skrag in some terrible danger. Skirj was trying to rescue him, but he failed every time. He would reach out, their hands would almost touch, and then his brother would fall away. There was nothing he could do.
-last edited on Dec 23, 2018 18:06:25 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Dec 23, 2018 18:06:08 GMT
Chapter 4
Hithrol was awoken by the early morning sun streaming in through his window, as he had been every day for the past three months. Prior to that, it had been the birds. Every morning, they would sing their songs from perches not too far from his little house, and the sounds would creep inside to gently nudge him awake. Now, there were no birds in the sky. There were only the Falkrions.
It had been Terra’s idea to give the Falkrions temporary lodging a short distance from Paladeen. Hithrol, naturally, had agreed, eager to learn more about this long-lost people and, truth be told, also to form an alliance with a group that might provide a significant advantage in any conflict.
Three months on, however, the arrangement had begun to grate on all of them. The Falkrions were anxious for a permanent residence, and some were threatening to leave altogether if one was not found soon. There was, of course, the option of turning the temporary buildings into something more permanent, but Hithrol and the other Riders were starting to tire of the bird-people’s constant presence. Between their constant presence in the sky, the lack of a totally sufficient food source to feed all of them, and the mess that resulted from so many bodies in one place, it was simply all too much for the Riders. Staying in such close proximity with the Falkrions much longer could very likely lead to open conflict, and that would negate half the purpose of bringing them there in the first place.
With all of that in mind, Hithrol, the Falkrions, and Terra’s group of adventurers – the ones who had found the bird-people in the first place – had decided to come together to find a new home for the Falkrions. The meeting was to take place later that day, in the Riders’ central pavilion. If all went well, the Falkrions would be set to move out within the week. Unfortunately, Hithrol felt pretty confident that something would go wrong. Something always went wrong.
-last edited on Dec 24, 2018 15:41:46 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Dec 24, 2018 15:41:27 GMT
Chapter 5
Dressed in his best tunic, the one emblazoned with the image of a dragon’s head, and with Olifin at his side, Hithrol strode out to the meeting hall at the center of the complex. It was perfect for their purposes, because the large open windows that allowed dragons to peek in their heads also served as adequate perches for the Falkrions, provided the numbers were few enough that a table could be set up close to the wall. Today, that would not be a problem. The only people at the meeting would be Hithrol; Olifin; Tinunclus, the leader of the Falkrions; and Axomius, the man who put together the group that found the Falkrions.
Fortunately, Hithrol and Olifin were the first to arrive. The Falkrions were very stringent on punctuality, and if they had gotten there after Tinunclus it could easily have been taken as an insult, which might have ended the meeting then and there.
Axomius was the next to arrive; once again, a good thing, though his punctuality was of slightly lesser import. Hithrol shook the old man’s hand when he walked in the door and gestured for him to sit but said nothing. He had learned long ago that Axomius was a scholar at heart, and one who often preferred silence to conversation. Something about the man, a general air of knowing, reminded Hithrol strongly of Hoid, though the latter had been much more talkative. He hoped that Axomius would not someday make the same mistake Hoid had: believing that he knew everything, as opposed to merely a great deal.
It wasn’t long after Axomius arrived that Tinunclus gracefully swept in to land on the windowsill opposite Hithrol. In retrospect, he might have been waiting above for the others to arrive so as not to make them appear rude; the Falkrion had seemed to develop an appreciation and respect for their customs in the past few months. Hithrol and Axomius stood to give Tinunclus shallow bows before returning to their seats. Olifin made no such gesture, and Tinunclus did nothing to indicate that one was expected. Dragons were beyond such restraints as social propriety imposed, at least in the eyes of the Falkrions.
YAY! I reads. So good so far! Aww poor guy, he just wants his brother, I know man. ;.; You can do it! Lol I love wisdom having purple hair! XD : D
Thanks! We'll have to see. . ..
Wisdom was Taraninja16's character in my RP, the Elite Heroica Questing Arena, on the LMBs (though I'm not sure she actually did anything after posting a profile). His appearance and personality are drawn from there.
YAY! I reads. So good so far! Aww poor guy, he just wants his brother, I know man. ;.; You can do it! Lol I love wisdom having purple hair! XD : D
Thanks! We'll have to see. . ..
Wisdom was Taraninja16's character in my RP, the Elite Heroica Questing Arena, on the LMBs (though I'm not sure she actually did anything after posting a profile). His appearance and personality are drawn from there.
Wisdom was Taraninja16's character in my RP, the Elite Heroica Questing Arena, on the LMBs (though I'm not sure she actually did anything after posting a profile). His appearance and personality are drawn from there.