Dead End

Chapter 3

Dead End Chapter Three
Hømuηcϋlύs = dwarf
Dõgמּ = orc
Ëlvæd = elf
Human = Human
I I I




“By the name of my master, Hømuηcϋlύs! It’s as if mortal men had cursed you to be as slow as they! If I did not have such a load I’d have left you beasts, and by means of foot, now be there!” said the Ëlvæd, much more violently than was their custom.
“My lord you should be quite honored by our dedication and aptitude to serve you! We Hømuηcϋlί never accept an Ëlvæd into our company! Our clan has given you a special honor by accepting you and aiding you on your quest. For us it is quite an honor to serve you and for you it is quite an honor to have our service!” retorted the head of the Rongcoff Hill Clan.
The Ëlvæd smiled and gave a quite, yet terrifying chuckle, as he stood up in the wagon. He was odd, even for an Ëlvæd, with his hair white and dead looking, a face beautiful with eyes like candle light, and large pointed ears that twitched now and again, as if there was music to the world that never truly creased. For an Ëlvæd, he lacked personality. He was cold and stiff. While strange and magnificent he moved like a puppet; so like the rest but forced, as if grace did not shroud him naturally. Occasionally he would slide out his sword, only enough to inspect the blade before shoving it back in, returning to his watch.
The Hømuηcϋlί on the other hand never ceased moving. Two steered their mass of horses while the others polished swords, axes, shields, and helmets. Four stood at the corners of the large wagon holding cross bows keeping almost as diligent of a watch as the Ëlvæd.
“My Lord Brownthorn,” said a small Hømuηcϋlύs bowman, “there are Dõgמּ upon the path ahead. My lord, what do you wish to be done of them?”
“Why nothing at all Porr! We will go left at the next bend and avoid the barbaric flesh eaters. There is, of course, no reason to engage them if hostilities can be avoided,” said Lord Brownthorn, as if it was a personal insult to him that one of his associates had not already determined the appropriate action.
“My lord there is a human settlement by that ways!” retorted Porr. Lord Brownthorn’s eyes flashed a brilliant red on the mention of humans, but immediately returned to their normal color and the Ëlvæd replied with a smile and stepped down off the railing back into the wagon.
“My dear little Hømuηcϋlύs that village was destroyed quite some time ago. I witnessed the outrage on my pervious journey, the journey from which you and your clan are currently employed to help me return from. Now remind the coachmen to turn left at the next fork and let’s have enough of this worry over humans…” he ended with a short chuckle. Lord Brownthorn turned to resume his watch when he heard a scream from behind. Within moments the Ëlvæd had drawn his sword and landed lightly next to the overturned wagon, which was now rolling on its side down the path. It stopped only when it collided with a tree and burst into flames.
“Now was that really necessary Mr. Sosonda,” said Brownthorn casually turning his massive sword casually swaying in his left hand. The blade flashed as beam of light caught its sheen. Brownthorn strolled towards the group of humans, and in the brief flash that lit up the blade as Brownthorn moved through yet another beam of light, a name could be made out. Carved in elegant, beautiful script shone a name that few people still remember; the name Alenvick gleamed upon it, illuminating it once again after living so long in the dark.
“Who… who the hell are you?” said a stout teen with long, tangled hair. He stood, glaring at the Ëlvæd, readying his odd sword-like weapon.
“My, my, what a… fascinating young man, more courage than a soldier, is your long hair naturally blue or did you have a little accident picking wild berries with your dear dead mother? No, it must be natural, your mother’s been dead for quite sometime I expect, and what’s this some little friends come to play as well? Ha-ha-ha ah well al the more fun I suppose dear child…” said Brownthorn, his smile threatening to touch his ears.
By now the only living Hømuηcϋlί had stood up, angry at the destruction of their clan and wagon. They grabbed a couple of weapons that were still in useable condition and began to approach the human boys, eager for revenge. Behind the young men sat another wagon, slightly different from the Hømuηcϋlί’s wagon, their wagon was small with only two large horses pulling it, and mounted on the back of this wagon was a large metal tube attached to an armored box. On the top of this box there was a hole from which looked another member of the human gang. The boy on top swiveled the tube, which was still slightly fuming, towards the Hømuηcϋlί behind Lord Brownthorn.
“Ah-ha so the little boys have some big toys? Well all the more reason for you to go… Sorry son of Mr. Sosonda, truthfully the only Sosonda, well my dear child it was my sincerest desire to make this personal between the two of us, but now you leave me no choice… You’ve found too many… shall I say interesting little trinkets…? Yes, it’s quite intriguing that you’ve been able to-“
But Kiy-ru Sosonda wouldn’t let him finish. Kiy-ru yelled an order to his men and charged at Lord Brownthorn as a loud crack ran through the air. The Hømuηcϋlί rushed forward brandishing what was left of there weapons. Even without Lord Brownthorn’s orders they were fully ready to kill, seek revenge for the damage done to their clan. The Hømuηcϋlί were thrown through the air in a colossal explosion and landed in a heap all entwined with one another, a light trail of smoke drifting from their corpses. Brownthorn parried Kiy-ru’s strike with one hand, sneering and taunting him as he kept attempting to get a blow in on Lord Brownthorn. Kiy-ru’s men began rushing towards the Ëlvæd, weapons drawn, in an attempt to help the last of the Sosonda family.
“Is it is safe to presume that that was your last available shot? Yes, now I do think it is as your gunner has departed from his position,” said Brownthorn, pressing young Sosonda against a tree and retrieving one of the Hømuηcϋlί’s axes from above his head. Brownthorn spun around bringing the axe hard across the tree where Kiy-ru’s head had just been.
“My, my you’ve already put up much more of a fight than your father! He just fell upon his knees and begged me not to kill your mother…! How touchingly cliché to say the least I must add, but I promptly killed her to try and get a dab of fun from the poor fool! It worked of course but I easily cut off both his arms and laughed in his face as he bled to death wishing he could tell you he was sorry for being so incredibly pathetic… Humans are often so predictable it’s depressing!” cackled the Ëlvæd Lord, putting his sword through the throat of one of Kiy-ru’s gang. The boy was younger than the rest, about twelve and had only a knife to defend hisself. He crumpled into a heap as the Ëlvæd remove his blade to block Kiy-ru’s next strike. The boy lay there seeping blood onto the fresh soil over the trap Sosonda’s group had lain that morning, the poor boy wasn’t even heavy enough to break the sticks beneath him. The great Lord Ëlvæd laughed even harder as he put the axe into the crest of another one of Sosonda’s men. The man, who, to be honest, was actually just an older boy of around nineteen dropped to his knees sobbing. He made one last attempt at the Ëlvæd just missing his knee as the Ëlvæd spun around Kiy-ru taking of the young Sosonda’s hand.
Kiy-ru’s men shrieked with rage as their leader dropped to the ground screaming and spraying blood from where his left hand had just been moments before. The other boys rushed at the Ëlvæd Lord with even more vigor trying in vain to hit him. Remarkably even the loss of his left hand didn’t stop the boy. He stood again as Brownthorn imbedded the axe into the face of the next challenger who avoided it just enough to miraculously live through the initial blow. The boy, whose face had just been impailed, stumbled over to their wagon where he grabbed a white case with a red cross and began pulling out metal objects. The boy’s whole body twitched and his head kept nodding forward, as if the boy were in desperate need of sleep. He finally found what he was looking for, a rounded metal sheet and a syringe. The edge of the metal sheet was flashing as if on fire as he latched it onto his mangled face. He shook and wept as he stabbed the syringe into his leg, which caused him to immediately fall limp.
Kiy-ru stood with his sword held tight in his hand as he came at Brownthorn who was by now laughing hysterically after having dropped another young boy while his last victom scrambled hopelessly to try and save his own life. The boy whose face the Ëlvæd had smashed hadn’t even twitched since using the syringe on himself. Kiy-ru was screaming now moving so fast and furiously that his last man was hesitant to get near the two.
Lord Brownthorn hadn’t even been scratched yet and was fending off Kiy-ru’s lightning attacks with one hand while nearly doubled over in laughter at the sight of the children he had slain. It was disgusting the was he carried on, as if the lives of children or any human for that matter weren’t even as important as the dirt he was kicking into the final gang member’s face. Even years later Kiy-ru woke sweating in the night after a nightmarish flash back to the way Brownthorn took his arm and his good friend Kole’s leg.
As the boy reeled back grabbing at his eyes Brownthorn dropped to the ground landing on his back jettesening himself off the ground to land both his feet in Kiy-ru’s face as he spun up, slicing the boy Sosonda had always called Kole through the knee cap. It was an amazing move that ended with Brownthorn landing on his feet crouching quickly to take off the remnants of Kiy-ru’s left arm. Kole screamed in agany as he grabbed his stump of a leg staring in horror at the other part that had landed in the lap of the unconscious teen with the syringe still in his leg.
“You boys have been very naughty… and I do most sincerely hope this has taught the two of you a well deserved lesson…” said the Ëlvæd matter-of-factly. Lord Brownthorn stood and turned to leave.
“Damn you to hell, you demon shit!” screamed a trashing Kiy-ru, out of his mind in pain.
The Ëlvæd, Brownthorn, spun around so fast the boy named Kole expected the gods themselves would have missed it.
“Maybe the children haven’t learned their lesson dearest!” screamed Brownthorn, slicing through Kiy-ru’s other arm.
The boys lay there screaming and whimpering in pain, like lost dogs dieing of hunger. Their howling carried all the way through the woods to an old village nearly forgotten with the passing of time. Here the buildings glistened, like some vast army, armor clad and ready for battle. Here their screaming died, loud but not loud enough to pierce the steel.



There’s a place long lost
Where the wind holds fast
There’s a place out in the valley
Where life is never born…
Out in the valley,
The valley that cries sweet laughter,
There lives a boy
Whose father can make the world grow.



Adam rubbed his tired arms as he stared into his mirror. He still worried about his brother; Adam knew the little fool couldn’t look after himself for long, but he loved the fool, it’s impossible to truly hate your own brother, and he worried he’d made a mistake leaving him with that child of Regulous. Reg was a good man but from what Adam had seen his son was a blighted snob without the slightest care for those of which he saw no use. Adam had been there a good two weeks now… in actuality a couple days passed but still, he was beginning to miss his brother. Tiesn was the only family Adam had left; well not if you counted McGreen but that man would sell his own soul to the devil if he thought the profit was worth it. Adam may not have been the brightest man alive but he could tell about people, quite the opposite of Tiesn who had quite a head on his shoulders but was too naive of people to be safe on his own.
Adam had left his brother with the South Fæs Federation and accompanied Regulous and his oldest son to Vaouvenrc. Vaouvenrc, the capital of the South Fæs Federation, was well know for its Mêlée Academy and there was little Adam could do to resist the temptation of learning at the most infamous combat academy in the world. Still Adam wasn’t sure if it was the right to join the Federation or not, joining would make him a traitor to Niesata, at least in the eyes of the King. Yet that was not the hesitating factor in Adam’s decision. Adam cared nothing for the nation’s leader and on his way to Vaouvenrc he had come to loath the difficulties that the King subjected his less… agreeable subjects to.
Adam was pondering many of these things while he washed his face and looked for his work out pants. It had been a long three weeks but he was by no means ready to head back. Adam had promised himself he wouldn’t worry about Tiesn until after his third sword exam but it was hard, Tiesn was all he had left and even his love for weapons and war didn’t keep his worries away.
Adam pulled on his training shirt and went to get his sword.
“Hey Alenvick hurry up! The breakfast counter will be closed before you get out there if you don’t hurry it up!”
“Of course Galan… I’ll be there in a moment!” replied Adam, grabbing his leather guard jacket and helmet.



We wish away our sorrows
And look for worlds of more
Lost in all our wonders
In our wonders but nothing more…

There’s a place where dreams come real
A place where miracles grow
A land of timeless wonders
A land that is no more…



Solidshield woke in a daze, he was on a river bed, the body of one of his men, a long time companion and trusted follower, Dalooma, was floating face down a little ways away. He shook his head to try and rid himself of the buzz that was consuming what was left of his consciousness. He tried to pull himself all the way out of the water but he was still too disoriented to figure out which way was away from thr river and which was towards it. Òóm flailed about, trying to figure out where he was. He couldn’t quite place it but he knew that something was very wrong. The wind felt as if it were being sucked in by an amorous pair of lungs. Òóm managed to pull himself halfway up onto the river before what was left of his strength failed him. He lay there listening to the rush of water watching the young girl sitting in front of him twirling his large axe in one of her small hands. She seemed familiar to him some how, like something out of a dream. Òóm tried to get up but his strength hadn’t returned yet. He slipped back onto the ground, head landing sharp against the ground.
Ella watch as Òóm became uncontious and gave a small giggle at the frailness of the mighty Dõgמּ. From upstream came a huge surge churning the water uncannily resembling a herd of cattle. Ella giggled as she skipped over to the Dõgמּ, her long black cloak trailing on the ground and her dark purple scarf bouncing around her neck. She laughed as she ran after him as he was thrown into rocks as the torrent of water hurled him down stream. Even at the implausible speed of the river Ella kept up still laughing and giggling.
“Well I do say it would be a dear shame to let the pathetic brute die like this,” she said, still skipping and laughing as she kept pace with the raging river.
“Ahhh well he may be of some use to me… His mind is quite small… I’m sure I could… find some use for him… Te-he!” she whispered giggling slightly as she ripped the Dõgמּ from the river. With a swift kick to his chest he sputtered out water and lay there lost, staring at the young girl. She was a cute, red-headed girl, around fifteen with a near perfect body and slightly pointed ears. She giggled at him, whipping out an oriental fan to flutter in front of her face. She tilled her head and gave him a big smile, crouching on her knees in front of him. Something about her entranced him, maybe it was how her smooth long white hair was, or I could have been her large, purple almond shaped eyes. Òóm was sure there was definitely something wonderful about her, something that seemed to fill the air, but he was too tired to figure it out just now. Òóm’s head lolled backwards as he fell unconscious unable to keep awake any longer.
Ella giggled and began to drag the unconscious Dõgמּ back to her camp. She took no care to help him avoid the rocks scattered on the ground. She proceeded to drag the unconscious creature behind her as she would an old doll that was too worn to be loved. The Dõgמּ was easily twice her size but she pulled him as if he were nothing more than a sack of torn angle feathers. She began to skip as the camp came into sight and sped up a little causing Òóm to bounce along even more violently.
“Oiya, young Lady Ella, what is it you’ve got their ?!” called the guard on watch. Ella was pulling him with both hands now and moving quite a lot slower than see had outside of the guard’s line of sight, giving off the appearance of someone plenty weaker than see truly was. Even so the size and weight ratio differed between the small girl and the Dõgמּ so much that the strength of the girl still seemed quite impressive.
“Oh, Midas I found this poor creature washed up on shore!” she said in the sweetest voice she could muster.
“Lord! Good heavens girl! That there be one of the Dõgמּ, an Elite of their kind by his size it seems! We must remove this beast at once!” said the guard, quite shocked and awed to see a Dõgמּ so close to the kingdom of Saxte. Saxte was a large province, so large in fact that it had been given the title of Kingdom and had its own provincial King and Queen. The beautiful young girl, Ella, was the only daughter of this lineage.
“Oh but please Mr. Midas, can we not spare his life?! The rapids have already done so, so clearly it must be an act of the mighty God that his life should be protected. It would be a shame to let one, who God has spared, die in a way that is so without honor!” retorted Ella, seemingly taken aback by the Idea that the guard would have just killed Òóm there and then.
“Well… Ah very well miss we shall spare this one… but it is against me. I will have to tell the Colonel and get his word on the matter. He of course will have the final say in this. You will be the death of me one day child. I pray that your good heart stays true, but I must urge you to try to avoid trouble. It would probably be best if you stay in the camp till we are ready to move out. Le Orrom is only a four days ride from here and I wish to avoid any incidents so close to our destination,” said Lt. Midas.
“Pray do tell me, what is Le Orrom again Mr. Midas?” asked Ella, more for confirmation than actual additional knowledge.
“It is a base of the Great South Fæs Federation dear Miss Ella. Now run along to your tent. I will discuss your friend her with the Colonel and see to it personally that he is put under your care, and eventually service as he owes you a life debt my little lady. Now off with you I must get back to my duties!” And with that the Lieutenant signaled a soldier to escort Lady Ella to her quarters and two others to take Òóm to the medical tent.
Lt. Midas sat down on the bench and shook his head. Lady Ella was a strange little child. Midus sighed and pushed the girl from his mind. He stared off into the distance continuing with his watch. He fiddled with his sword as he watched a bird fly over the camp. Midus was anxious to get to Le Orrom. He’d never been in a battle before and was keen on getting it over with and returning home. The fortress they were planning on attacking was located on a huge cliff and was currently controlled by the rebel faction that called itself the South Fæs Federation. After a few hours a lesser officer came to relieve him from his position. Midus immediately headed to the Colonel’s tent.
“Sir!” said Lt. Midus, snapping to attention.
“Speak soldier…” commanded the Colonel.
“Sir, Lady Ella found a Dõgמּ out side our camp and has requested he be allowed to like and repay the life debt he owes to her. Will you allow this sir?”
“Yes… That is fine, but if he causes any problems at all he will be cut down without hesitation, you under stand Lieutenant?”
“Aye sir!”
Midus was quite clear on the danger keeping a live Dõgמּ in camp posed but he felt determined to see Lady Ella’s wish fulfilled. Though she looked young and he seemed old Midus was actually quite close to her age. She was in all actuality nineteen and he had been born two years prior to her which made himself twenty-one. It was wishful thinking on his part to hope of marrying a girl like Ella for she was of the royal line and he was a cobbler’s child. Still Midus couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to the young girl who had so rashly rushed off and come back to save a life. Midus smiled and opened the flap of his tent. He crawled in and went to pull the draw strings shut when he noticed a girl sitting on a boulder some ways off to the left of his tent. Lady Ella had snuck out again and was perched on the rock staring into the moonlight. Midus laughed quietly as he tied the tent shut and fell asleep almost as he hit the mat. He’d never felt so at peace in all his life.
Ella watched a large black bird fly over head. She frowned and walked back to her tent. She knew something was wrong but she couldn’t place it. She sat on the stool and looked out at the camp thinking. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t figure if out. What was it that made this camp feel ever so wrong…? She sat their pondering for around an hour, often getting distracted by the animals that ran through their camp or flew over head when it dawned on her. It was in the air! She sniffed and stood up feeling out with her nose, almost as if she were trying to grasp the fact from the air. She found what she was looking for and smirked. It was obvious now, and she felt all the more stupid for it but she couldn’t help, but laugh at the irony of the situation. They were happy. The soldiers were happy! She laughed at how easily human hearts were contented and how wildly dreams could spread as she returned to her tent to settle down to sleep.



We dream sweet dreams
No fear of cold
Lost heads gleaming
Like jewels of snow.
Red like wine
Chopped like trees
In the ocean
Minds do breed
Thoughts of the cruelest kind
Some thoughts to one’s lost mind
But still the factor comes to play
That you all
Will die today…



“Come on Adam how do you expect to pass with that kind of form!? I’ve seen you do better on a full gallon of ale! No Turk Two Foot Step not the Ellen Wine Three! Oh come on block for the lord’s worth don’t back off!” screamed Mardoc, the footwork instructor.
“I’m trying master!” shouted Adam, stumbling so badly that his flailing sword was all that kept him from getting a nasty lump on the back of his neck.
“No yur not! Ya moved better your third day here than ya are now! What the hell’s wrong with you boy?!”
“I’m trying already damn it” yelled Adam, swinging his practice sword at Galan’s leg.
Galan jumped it and hit Adam so hard in the arm Adam’s practice sword flew out of his hand. Without thinking Adam dove onto the boy putting him in a full nelson with his face pressed firmly against the ground. Galan threw his head back nailing Adam in the jaw causing Adam to loosen his grip just enough for Galan to over power him and slide out from under him to kick him sharply in the chest.
“Well at least Galan can think and fight at the same time! What’s wrong in your head boy?! I haven’t see yur like this in a week!”
“It’s Tiesn sir… I’m worried about the boy. He’s got a startling talent for getting himself into trouble and I don’t much like leaving him alone,” said Adam, rubbing the bruise on his chest from where Galan kicked him.
“Well ya know hower you’re gonna get him out of all that trouble? By being able to think your way through a battle and move about on any terrain without trippen about like some other drunkard! Now get up and let’s see if you’ve got anything in you at all lad!” said Mardoc, throwing Adam and Galan their swords.
“We’re off to Fort Le Orrom in a week boys so I hope ya can be ready by then!”
Adam yelled and ran at Galan so fast that Galan barely blocked the running attack. As Adam sped past him, Galan spun around swinging to catch Adam in the back. Adam kept going though and turned to face Galan from the opposite side about the same distance he had been before his attack. Galan set into a defensive stance ready for another rush. He didn’t have to wait long for as soon as his back foot locked into place Adam came rushing at him. Galan slashed out with his sword but Adam had veered off to the right, preformed a flawless Caladok Four Step, and spun into Galan with the edge of his sword. As Galan crashed to the ground he hit Adam in the side of the knee sending Adam crashing to the ground.
“A lot better but as usual you totally sacrifice defense for a chance at an easy fatal blow!”
“That his would have cleaved open his side and opened his kidney!” retorted Adam, struggling to limp over to the bench near by.
“Aye but you just lost your leg in the last seconds of your opponent’s life! In the East Fæs they call it Zon Chen or ‘remaining mind’. It’s something you gravely lack Adam!”
Adam just huffed and put his leg up onto the bench so he could massage his injured knee. Galan grunted and sat down beside him massaging his own injured side. They both sat there for a while neither saying a word while Mardoc stared at them, also in silence. After about thirty minutes Mardoc stood and walked back towards the barracks.
“I’m going for a quick drink and then I’ll meet the two of you at the track for the five hundred forty-three laps you’ve accumulated. If your not there by the time I am you two’ll be cleaning the johns later tonight too…”
And with that Mardoc left the two young men to pick up their gear and head across the Academy Grounds to the track field.
“I’m starting to wonder if this is all worth it…” said Adam, picking up the lances they’d trained with earlier.
“It would all be fine if you kept your head on the job, Adam, and stopped thinking about that brother of yurs…”
“Leave Tiesn out of this Galan, I’m angry as it is and I don’t need you ya be make’n it worse!”
“Ya can’t back that threat little Adam! Yur as tired as me and just as bruised so quite with all ta bull-“
Adam didn’t let him finish. He whirled around and planted his large fist right in the side of Galan’s face. Galan stared at him for a moment, caught off guard by the brutishness of the punch. He didn’t wait long though before throwing himself at Adam swing his fists at Adam’s chest. Adam clothes-lined him and kicked him in the side, but Galan didn’t stop and soon both were on the ground, entwined in a frenzy of flying punches and kicks. They fought like that for a while trying to beat everything that was left in the other out of them before Mardoc returned and grabed the two by the scruff of their necks and lifted them to their feet where he smashed their heads together and punched each one square in the jaw. The tow stumbled back in a daze and raised their hands to the side of their faces feeling all the while their legs getting weak beneath them. Mardoc grabbed their hands as they reach for their faces and kicked each one hard in the calf so fast and hard both were unconscious before they knew they were on the ground. Mardoc walked over to the sparing field and grabbed four of the less worn men to help him drag the two unconscious boys back to the barracks.
Mardoc and the other four finally got Adam and Galan into their bunks before the dinner bell rang and they had to rush off to get in line before the food ran out. There would be no food for Galan and Adam tonight.
Galan woke before Adam and tried to move but found himself too sore to lift even his arm. He stared at the ceiling for hours hoping Adam would wake up so he could yell at him for all the trouble he had caused, but by the time Adam did wake Galan was no longer mad at him and it seemed that Adam was no longer mad at Galan. In the weeks they had been there they had almost become brothers and had never before fought like they had today. Both felt ashamed for putting an ugly mark on their friendship and both knew it to be equally their fault… though still we’re quite angry with one another for missing out on their meal.
In the morning they were both so sore they could barely walk and they’re moods didn’t improve when Regulous came in to lecture them on their previous night’s behavior. Neither wanted to speak to the other about it, nor did they want to speak at all for that matter, they knew what Mardoc would put them through for their behavior and both considered speaking to be a waste of precious energy. The two headed down to breakfast before grabbing their gear and, more reluctantly than usual, heading down to the track field. As they expected Mardoc was waiting for them with his tankard of coffee in his hand.
‘You’ve earned two hundred extra… Get going before I force you to move,” he said quietly, knotting and arrow onto his bow.
Neither boy had any doubt he’d shoot them if they didn’t start running. They both doubted he’d aim to kill them but neither doubted enough to stand still and find out.
They ran in silence, not daring to utter a word knowing just how tiring seven hundred forty-three laps would be… especially after missing last night’s meal.
They went to bed tired and sore that night. Adam was getting tired of the relentless training and was worrying about Tiesn so much that he could hardly concentrate anyway. There was little left to keep him here and his desire to learn the art of combat had waned since he had come here. Without someone to protect it seemed useless, unless you just enjoyed causing pain. But Adam did not take enjoyment from others pain and the one he had to protect, was far way from here. It was too late to worry about it at any case so Adam dismissed it from his mind to try and get a well needed nights sleep.



In a land of many oddities,
In a land that’s land is blue,
This land with skies of green,
This land whose seas glow true.
The fish swim with head behind,
A girl hides herself deep inside.
With fingers tough and raw
Like gnawed flesh of a beautiful maid,
Sits the girl there shivering,
In fear of her own heart.




Ella woke to a bright morning. She had slept well as always and was quite anxious to see the Dõgמּ. The girl knew he would take time to crack, but a servant like him was hard pressed to replace. The Dõgמּ was sitting in front of the medical tent like Ella had expected. All those in sight steered clear of the creature whispering anxiously and glancing at the guards to make sure they really did notice. Ella skipped over to the Dõgמּ, cocked her head and stared down into his face.
“Hello Dõgמּ. I am Ella of Saxte, and what pray be your name?”
Startled Òóm had to recompose himself before answering. In truth the Dõgמּ were not very different from humans at all.
“Well I’d be Òóm Solidshield little one. Have we met girl or would this be our first?”
“I saved you from the waters Òóm. You good sir owe me a life debt…”
“What?! I owe no life debt to a woman, and an undersized woman at that! I am no servant of any girl!’ said Òóm, angry that a human child would ever invent something so outlandish as a story of herself saving a Dõgמּ, and himself no less.
“Well whether you wish it or not Dõgמּ you owe me a life debt,” replied Ella, so sweetly that Òóm couldn’t help but smile at her. He liked her for some strange reason, though for the life of him he couldn’t place why.
She swept back her white hair and stared him in the eyes. Her large purple eyes burned through his locking his gaze, paralyzing him where he sat.
She whispered a little off to the right of his ear, still keeping complete eye contact with Òóm, “You’re not going to give me any trouble are you?”
Òóm couldn’t answer. She just smiled and held her gaze, holding him in place, reminding him that she was his master now. Then she gave a little giggle and skipped off leaving Òóm to sit there sweating and dazed. He had a mad desire to run after her but he didn’t. Òóm just sat down and tried to compose himself as he usually did after an extremely brutal execution, and for once Òóm actually was afraid. The girl was some kind of witch from what Òóm could tell but what her powers were he knew not. He could only guess that whatever she was she was not to be underestimated, though he couldn’t help but think how beautiful the girl had looked as she had skipped away… for a human that is.
Òóm sat there for a little while longer than, feeling the hunger pains that were starting to build inside him, he got up to find the mess hall. Since it was early morning most of the men were there already, spooning themselves out porag and grabbing a slice of bacon or ham as they moved down the serving table. Òóm walked in and went towards the like to get whatever was allowed him at breakfast. The crowds reaction was immediate, where a lively chatter had moments ago been thriving, the change was almost as harsh as someone falling dead before your eyes for god-knew why the cause. Òóm was use to the reaction, as it was the same as always when in company of humans.
The disgusting creatures can’t get over their own brutish appearance thought Òóm as he took a seat at a back table, far from the rest of the crowd.
The crowd was thinking about the same thing about Òóm, as a young girl entered the room. Ella skipped over to the counter and got a plate of roast duck and continued towards Òóm. Òóm smiled at the little girl, unable to help himself, almost laughing at how jubilantly she looked upon the world she so obviously considered her own. She sat right down next to Òóm and ripped off the ducks leg to hand to him. Òóm, amazed by how the girl treated him, so obviously differently from everyone else, as if he we’re in no way a different race than her. Of course she herself almost looked like a different race all together, her purple almond eyes and thick shining white hair, so different from her brown and black haired kin. That must have been what Òóm liked so much about her, her obvious superiority to the rest of man kind…
For a young woman she had an astounding presence that seemed to fill the whole room like an enormous flame, hot brilliant and completely different from those it engulfed. She seemed almost too wild for one as fair and young as she.
“Eat! I wanna see how well you fight after breakfast. If you’re to be my bodyguard then you’ll have to know at least some basics in fighting,” Ella said, tearing into the duck that lay before her.
Dumb struck Òóm just went back to his leg of duck and put on that he had never heard the girl’s remark. To think a Master Dõgמּ could not fight!

After their lunch Ella grabbed Òóm’s hand and dragged him out of the dining hall, the stares still as harsh as ever.