Sorry I haven't written anything!

My netbook's Linux Ubuntu crashed for a while and I was too lazy playing online games to get it fixed until recently. Sorry!

Nicholas

Chapter One

L U K E

Roxana looked down from her plate, not really sure what she was supposed to feel like.

Am I sad? Am I happy? Am I depressed? Who am I? Do I know anymore? And more questions like this floated throughout her head. Her nose wouldn't stop running and her eyes were red because she kept trying to wipe the tears away. She hiccuped as Luke brought some bread and cheese over to the table.

“It's okay Roxana.” Luke said, putting his arm on her shoulder. She stared at the table, her face expressionless. Luke sighed, drawing on reserves of patience. Little children frustrated him. Roxana was only around five or six! She shouldn't feel so much so young—or at all, but that was what makes us better. When we face trials and beat them; conquer them.

“Roxana?” Luke said gently. She shook herself out of her thoughts and looked at him.

“I knew your father—my brother—very well. I can tell you this: mourning is necessary after death—it's part of the love—but Kyre would not want you to mourn for very long. He would want you to accept his death and move on.”

“But I don't want to forget him!” Roxana said, fresh tears spilling down her face.

“I didn't say forget. I said move on. There is a large difference, Roxana, one that I hope you can acknowledge.”

She nodded and sniffled.

“My point is, continue to mourn for a while, but then get back to life. Find something else to occupy your time. Read a book, eat some food, find a friend, but do something else.” Luke counseled. Roxana nodded, knowing that he was trying to help, but not wanting to accept that her father was dead. That thought tore at her heart.

A knock on the door made Luke look up. He got up and walked over, his footsteps almost loud against the wooden floor. He opened the door and found a small boy looking up at him.

“Hello Luke! I'm here for my lesson!” he said. Luke rolled his eyes and said, “It's not today Nicholas. Your lesson is tomorrow.”

Nicholas' face fell. “Oh.” he said simply, sounding extremely disappointed. “Well then can I meet the girl that's staying here?”

Luke looked surprised at the boy's knowledge. He didn't think anyone else knew about Roxana.

“So there IS a girl here!” Nicholas said loudly. Luke scowled briefly and then pulled Nicholas inside. Roxana wiped her tears away and walked over to Nicholas.

“Hi.” she said. Nicholas looked at her and said, “Hi!! How are you? What's your name? How old are you?”

Roxana looked surprised at the boy. Nicholas smile grew wider and he said, “What's wrong am I being too forward or blunt or whatever?” without taking a breath. Roxana shook her head and said, “W-I mean, you just talk... so fast.” Nicholas nodded and asked the same questions in the same order again.

“I'm kinda sad, I'm Roxana, and I'm 6.”

“Oh okay. I'm Nicholas, I'm feeling kinda weird, and I'm 5.”

Luke watched with mild amusement as the two bonded. In a few minutes they were playing happily. It was almost enough for Luke to wish he had a few children of his own. He walked into his study and picked up the book he was reading and settled down into the chair next to the roaring fire in the hearth.

Luke

Luke set the single plate down on the table in his small house. The table was a dark, rich wood that matched the walls of the humble abode. He heard a small knock at the door. “Well who could that be?” he wondered. He walked over to the door and opened it. Standing on his rug was a small girl with brown hair and a blood-stained tunic, shivering in the wind. It was almost midnight.

“L-l-l-luke?” she shivered. “Yes, I am Luke. Come inside so your limbs don't fall off.” Luke said. Roxana nodded and walked inside, grateful that she'd finally found this “Luke” person her father had told her about.

“We need to get you cleaned up—you're covered in blood.” Luke noted. Roxana nodded and Luke gave her a new tunic top. It was an old one of his—it was almost twenty years old and he figured it would fit her. It fit her better than the last one had, at least.

“Good, now that you're somewhat better looking, who are you?”

“Roxana. I'm the daughter of Kyre Ge'Rama.” she stated bluntly.

“Then I'm your uncle.” Luke said. Roxana looked at him and he nodded. She seems barely composed. Something is wrong.

“Where's Kyre?” Luke asked her.

“He- he's... dead.” she whimpered. She started sobbing as Luke nodded solemnly.

“I thought that would be the case. He was an amazing strategist, and a better brother. I'll fix another plate of broth for you,” Luke said. Roxana nodded and Luke turned towards the stove. He was composed on the outside, but inside was a boiling brew of questions.

WHY!?

Death of Kyre

“Let's win this day.” Eldrith said. The Fell hesitated at the arrival of a Mage. Eldrith raised his arms to the sky and summoned several small, white spheres. Rows of spikes extended in a spiral on every sphere. He made a throwing motion and they whizzed at each one. They made contact and unleashed a small explosion, killing the Fell. Eldrith summoned several more as the rest of the Fell charged towards them, enraged at the death of their kinsmen. Eldrith raised his hand and made hundreds more of the spheres and threw them towards the host.

The night was lit up with the explosions of light and the energy of Eldrith. Flinging more and more spheres left and right wasn't enough. Eldrith raised his arms up together and made one that was bigger than a large pumpkin and threw it at the ground right in front of the approaching horde. The ground evaporated, opening the floor to a mile-deep chasm. The Fell fell right down into the hole, screams dissipating in the darkness. Eldrith collapsed into Kyre's shoulder, spent.

“I am tired, weary and old.” Eldrith said, the traditional lines that Mages said before accepting death.

“No! Not yet!” Kyre yelled, looking at his friend, feeling powerless.

“Yes, Kyre. Live! Stay with your daughter and raise her to truly be what she was born to be.” Eldrith yelled as a white light eclipsed him. He smiled as he died, and his body fell to the ground. Kyre felt something fly just above his head and deflected an arrow with his shield. The Fell started closing in on him, having simply walked around the entrance to the chasm. One swiped at Kyre's head, and he parried, sliding his sword around and stabbing the creature in the gut. It fell over and he killed another. They kept coming! He killed one and two or three took its place.

He parried, jabbed, blocked, and evaded to his best ability and then he heard something.

“Father!!” Roxana screamed. He looked over at her and felt a sword dip into his left hip. He roared and killed the beast and then fought two more off.

“Get away!” he yelled at Roxana. She shook her head and said, “If you die I'm coming with you!”

“NO!!” He screamed as a sword entered his side. He fell to the ground and looked at Roxana.

“Get to the mountains! There you will be safe! Fine Carnell and Luke! GO!!” Roxana hesitated and then fled into the night. Kyre took out a small sphere from his book and crushed it into his hand, creating an explosion that was felt for miles. The entire force of the Fell was defeated that day, at the cost of the General and the best Mage on the side of the forces of Aether.

Roxana stood in the night on a nearby hill, watching the slowly expanding bubble of light dissipate that marked her fathers grave. She turned her back on it, tears sliding down her face. She walked down the hill, looking at the mountain that her father had pointed to looming over her in the distance.

Eldrith the Tenth

Back in the tent of Eldrith [typoed as "Fedwin"] the Tenth, Eldrith was preparing for the magical transfer of energy that was required for healing. The Generals girl, Roxana, was lying on his bed, staining his sheets dark red. He didn't mind much—he'd had much worse on his bed—and such was the nature of being a Healer. He cast his ridiculously long sleeves back, biting back a curse that was forming on his tongue for the sleeves. He'd told his tailor that he didn't want or need long sleeves!

He focused his mind, as he'd been taught to do almost three hundred years ago, and focused on the transfer of energy. A blinding, searing white light seemed to light the room as Roxana's body was repaired. Her heart started beating stronger as his stuttered for a second. Roxana sat up and looked at the healer, asleep on the floor, startled. She felt something sticky against her skin and saw the blood—her blood—on her tunic. She quietly got off the bed and walked over to the healer.

“Eldrith, are you okay?” she asked. He rolled over and got up groggily.

“Yes, yes I'm fine, but you have to stay here Roxana.”

“Why... oh I know.”

“Yes. I taught you that nay over a week ago. If someone is healed in the manner that I just did, they must stay close together so that the energy now shared between their bodies will rejuvenate at a faster rate.”

“I know.”

“Good. Sit down and we can watch how the battle goes.” Eldrith patted the floor next to him. Roxana sat down next to him, leaning slightly against the tent wall. Eldrith pulled a small white ball out of a pocket in his coat.

“Jai may sis.” He whispered. The orb glowed brightly and hovered in mid-air, images flashing around inside of it. It showed Kyre, charging along with the rest of the soldiers, rushing towards an unseen force, the faces of Kyre and the rest of them covered in grime and the dirt and gore of war. Kyre raised his sword and Roxana looked away. When she looked back, most of the soldiers were dead. The only one left was Kyre.

“I must save him.” Eldrith whispered. He said a few words so fast that Roxana couldn't make them out, and then he was gone.

Kyre let his sword hand fall, feeling the affects of exhaustion on his body. Several Fell closed it, their red eyes almost glowing in the darkness that had fallen since nightfall. A white light appeared behind him, and he turned around and almost stabbed Eldrith in the gut.

Prologue Part 1

The Fall of HOPE

[Little side-note: Everything in Brackets "[", "]", is a side-note from me.]

P r o l o g u e

The Fall of Kyre

[Kyre is Roxana's father]

As the forces of the Fell cried out, as the rain battered on the shields and helmets and breastplates of the people of Aether, as the night stroke with lightning strike after lightning strike, Kyre knelt down close to the ground, worried about his little daughter, Roxana. How she had escaped from his tent he knew not, but he knew one thing: if she stayed with him, she would die.

“Roxana, get back to Fedwin! He will take care of you!”

“No daddy! I want to stay and fight!”

I looked right into her eyes, wiping away her dark brown hair and said, “If you stay with me this night, you will die. This is a fate that I will not have for my only child! Get back to the tent—to safety!”

“No.” Roxana said simply.

“I don't have time-” he started to say. She shook her little head and pointed to the sky.

“Claero clayuum.” she said. The sky cleared, the lightning stopped, and the rain disappeared.

“What in the Light?” Kyre swore, looking at his child. Her eyes were glowing, a dim white light.

“Aersa verim deas due lar.” [this is only mildly based on Latin] she uttered, pointing to the sky and moving her hand in a flowing motion. Her words seemed to echo somehow, and I looked at where she was looking. A giant beacon of light in a spherical shape was firing lightning bolts at the other army, and then it suddenly stopped. Kyre turned to look at his daughter and saw her lying on the muddy ground, an arrow through her leg.

“FATHER!!” she screamed, pointing behind Kyre. He looked over his left shoulder, already rising his sword towards the Fell soldier. It swung its sword at him and he blocked the blow, feeling the weight of the attack sink his right knee into the mud. He swung the sword upward, twisting it and sending the Fell's sword into the air. He stabbed it through the chest and then kicked it off and wiped the sword on its tunic quickly.

“Stay with me Roxana. Stay here, with me, focus.”

“I'm trying daddy..” she whispered. Kyre nodded, feeling angry and tired and frustrated and on all-consuming worry. “I'll save you.” he whispered. Vaguely he noticed his troops retreating to a fallback position and several tall, large Fell stepping up behind him. He turned around and swung his sword in a wave at neck level, beheading each of them.

I will save you. Kyre thought in desperation. He turned back towards Roxana and picked her up in his arms carefully. He ran quickly over the muddy terrain back to where his camp was and quickly found the mage.

“Heal her.” Kyre said. “I have a battle to win.” he whispered, staring at his daughter. With a supreme effort, he turned away and walked back towards the battlefield, weaving in and out of the tent forest. The battle wasn't going well for them, he knew, but he needed specifics. Where was it going badly? How bad was bad?

Roxana's face kept flashing in his head. He turned back towards the camp as something snapped loudly. Loudly enough for him to hear it. He turned back towards the battlefield and then swore loudly and continued on. [He's having a lot of inner tribulation. He has a duty to lead and defend his men, but as a Father his Paternal side is kicking in. His daughter is in pain, possible death, but he can't stay with her. He's choosing duty over family. Do you think you'd do the same?]

I know it needs work, and that's what I'm doing right now. I also know that I could've written it a lot better--I'm also working on that. Bear with me.

Finally going to start Writing!

I think I know everything to finally start writing. I'll paste what I have into this post, so keep on the lookout for it!