Degorram

Dego let her thin form mold to fit more comfortably with the air vent's tight struture. Her long hair was still flashing like a cuttlefish from the potion she had gulped down, and her eyes glowed so bright a white color that the air vent was lit up with a flash. She watched as her twin lead the way and concentrated on keeping her energy output low, just in case.

Degorram shook her head vigorously, trying to fight the pain that came from the rapid containment. Shadows of black and red lights still clouded her peripheral vision, and she struggled to stand as they waited for another volunteer. On a normal day (though she didn't explode like that on normal days) she would be bedridden for hours after the containment. The flashes of heat through her body were strong warnings that if she didn't rest soon, she would transform again and no bubble of untainted power would save her.....or her sister. But the matter at hand was important: no one, not even she, could afford to give in to fatigue. She braced herself against Kikuyu and closed her eyes, blowing the smoke that eminated from her lungs through her nose, jaw clamped shut against the pain. It was how it had been since they were kids: Degorram, always injuring herself, and never uttering a word about it. She smiled in spite of herself. It was how she had always been, and it was how she liked it.

Degorram knew she was losing her temper. She knew that she was dangerously close to losing the control she had spent seven years coaxing into barriers around her power core, tempting the raw magic to stay silent and obedient to her will. As she flew down the halls, her feet sending cracks through the marble, she could see the tendrils of blackness preceeding her, covering the walls as she descended towards the area where she had heard bells. The shape shifter could only guess at what she looked like: a blackened shadow of herself, crackling with anger and magic. She bared newly sharp fangs, her eyes sparking as she remembered why she was late at following the others. As she had stood there, in front of the room with her twin, a stealth sprite had snuck up from behind and frozen her with some sort of poison. Her anger was mostly at being distracted enough to allow the vile pestilence to freeze her, but she also despised being late. The sound of bells had woken her and, unfortunately, woken the monster that was herself. She had specifically asked Wyvern to abandon the bell for such reason. And now there was nothing to do but hope that she didn't hurt her friends. Degorram burst into a wide hall, skidding to a stop as she caught her reflection in the perfectly polished marble. What she saw shocked and pleased her at the same time: her hair had grown longer and now coursed through the air as the magical energy of her abilities poured into the surroundings. Her skin had been scorched black, with silver lines (the same color as the magic she held within) jaggedly covering it in strange tattoo-like patterns. Her eyes had turned into the blank, white orbs of a demon, and her ears and tail no longer resembled that of a fox, but that of something sharp and unpleasant, caressed with spines and scales. The shape shifter looked up and found that she had entered, not only the Assembly Room, but a hall filled with other Pen members. I have to find Kikuyu, Degorram thought as she struggled to breath past the suffocating aura of her power. Before this gets out of hand, I have to get his under control..... (sorry it's so rough....I haven't been on in a while)

Thank you. Yes, it was rather fun to read. Can you tell I just read Dante's Inferno?

So, here I am sitting in a computer lab in the depths of my highschool. It is now foruth period, and since I have Latin this year, I have the last lunch of the day. We call it the period of lost dreams. Gosh I'm hungry. Oh well. At least I still have the Mighty Pen to write down my thoughts for the benefit of all you who enjoy reading sad, sad stories. I'm immensely bored with nothing to do so here goes. The Woes of School an epic poem I woke one morning to find that I, Had descended into Hell. My clothes were wrinkled, my toast was burned, My room had begun to smell. A giant monster of ferocious make, Appeared at my door so foul. Yellow in color with great staring eyes, It swept me up into its bowels. Amazed at my day I sat upon muck, That was leathery and brownish in stain. The time passed me by rather slowly until, It burped me back up once again. I found myself in a different circle, Of the terror of my frightening dream. A sign on the place that faced me now, Said "School" and I began to scream. The demons called "teachers" at once, Were upon me to drag me within. They sat me down and began to talk, About random and various sins. "Homework not done! Projects are late!" It went on as my nerves became fried. Drool dripped on my desk as they lectured, My eyes glazed over, I sighed. The teachers were furious! They hauled me away. To another torture called "Gym". The punishment was great and I swooned on my feet, And awoke from the miserable dream. Oh happiness found; that was only a dream! Just a vision of horrible wrath! I lifted my head and let out a scream: I'd fallen asleep in Math.

Mists floated lazily through the graveyard like fish in a pond. The crow sat shabbily in the tree, trying desperately not to inhale the poignant smells from the not-so-fresh corpse beneath his perch, rudely taken from its rest by grave robbers. It wrinkled its nose as the chill breeze swept the odor towards its beak. With that single movement that no creature with a beak could manage, the "crow" melted and squashed itself, the image twisting unpleasantly until crouching in the tree was a something that was very non-crow. Dressed in all black, from head to toe, was a man. The only skin on his body that showed was around his lavender eyes, which glowed like dual lamps through the drear darkness. The Ninja silenlty wished he had chosen somewhere more convenient to his olfactory system. Ah well...it was all in the business. The clock in the village down the lane began to chime. He counted the beat slowly. 1......2......3...... The moon emerged hesitantly from behind the clouds, little by little. The graveyard was bathed in cold, silver light. Beneath him the ninja saw the slightly open casket, an arm hanging over the side. 4.......5.......6..... Another breeze tore through him. The smell was unbearable. And in the moonlight, the Ninja could have sworn the hand twitched. 7.......8......9......10..... His eyes missed nothing, so there was no doubt in the Ninja's mind that what he had seen had really happened. He sat still, watching for more movement. 11........12....... The chiming stopped and with a crash the lid exploded from its hinges. The Ninja only managed to dodge the edge of the heavy wood projectile by swinging under his branch and landing behind the tree: dangerously close to said coffin. The corpse within sat up slowly, turning its head at an equal rate in the cliche movement of death. With a gurgle of rage it stood and hopped out of bed, slapping at the Ninja. The Ninja jumped away, pulling from its pocket a weapon that few had and even fewer took seriously. It looked like the offspring of a sea anenome and a small loofa, fitting in the palm of his hand neatly. Yet when he tossed it at the undead fiend, it expanded, wrapping its frilly tentacles around the decayed body. The zombie fell to the ground, struggling as a hideous sucking noise filled the air: the weapon was doing its job. "S-state.....thy.....naaaame....." the creature managed to gurgle. The Ninja walked closer, crouching down to lean over its head. "Normally I wouldn't," he said in a clear, melodic voice. "But since your essence is about to be dissolved anyway, why not? The name is Dreamcatcher." He squinted his eyes and the cloth across his mouth moved with his grin. "Sweet dreams!" (sorry it was so long. I got carried away! :3) Words: Scintilating Grin Chaos Eerie

(It has been brought to my attention that I made a great mistake in my last post. My greatest apologies for the caracters that were written about: I actually had no idea that the two women were actual characters and I abused them terribly without any intention to make an actual person seem like they would do something they would not. The post will be deleted. And again, I apologise!!!! ~Degorram)

"IN ALL THE BLUE BLAZES OF OASIS FLAME, WILL YOU GET OFF OF ME!?!" Degorram shrieked. A whirlwind cut through the room and picked the three who were piled on top of her up, tossing them ungently onto the floor next to her. Degorram growled and sat up, now thoroughly peeved. "Reckless fart brained buffoon! Watch where you're going next time or I'll start using stronger insults!"

Degorram was less than pleased. Not only had she allowed herself to be mistaken as one of the incompetant ninja, of all the unholy things to be mistaken as, but she had also been caught off guard by Wyvern's rather un-warlike warcry. She looked at her dust covered clothes and her eyes flamed with irritation. A burst of her power threw the dust off of her in every direction with a loud puff that resembled the opposite of a vacuum. Her eyes blazing red, her hair darkening to black, she turned on Wyvern and raised an eyebrow. "Ooops? I think that may be an understatement. Do I look like I'm wearing spandex? Am I deflating in any shape, form, or fashion at all?" The shapeshifter snorted and turned away, stretching her arm out. Her scythe flew up from the ground and into her gloved hand and she returned to scowl at the almost-dragonic being. "You're lucky I didn't take your head off." Degorram stiffened. Something was coming....fast. And in her brain she felt a connection that read out NINJA. But whether it was Kikuyu or one of the annoying Stealth Sprites was hard to tell, for the speed at which it approached was far too great. She turned towards the already gaping hole in the wall and peered into the night.

Degorram blinked and looked around, then cursed under her breath. She could have sworn under torture that Wyvern had been standing in front of her. But when she had tapped his shoulder, he had fallen over and turned out to be a cardboard standup. Curse that sneaky devil! she thought savagely. Of all the times to pull something like that.Sighing, she walked away to the opposite side of the library, completely alone. She absently rubbed the leather straps that covered her arms and legs. What now? As the shape shifter thought, her skin and clothes began to change color until they completely matched the colors of her background. Invisible, she walked away, senses completely unguarded. She didn't want to miss anything. Even though these ninjas were complete clutses and severely incompetent ones at that, she didn't trust anything. Whatever was controlling the annoyances in black spandex was darker, more mysterious. Anything that made their minions where spandex had to be sick in the head. She walked the cold streets of the Pen complex in silence, thinking. And for once it wasn't about made up stories. The tale that swirled in her head was her own, very real and very painful. She was so distracted that she nearly bumped into someone in the dark. Luckily she dodged around in time to avoid disaster. The person was a tall female with cat ears(?). Her shimmering hair was tied up into a pony tail and draped over one arm she held one of the black outfits the ninjas had been spiriting around in. Degorram listened hard and heard the last words of 'find a ninja expert'. Letting her invisibility drop, she walked up next to the person and prayed that this time they wouldn't turn out to be a piece of cardboard.... (can we write about other people or is this strictly writing our own and hoping we're noticed?)

Once her conversation with Kikuyu had ended, Degorram had instantly morphed back to her room, throwing her closet doors open with a wave of her hand. Clothing flew past her in a wild flurry as her now red eyes flickered past each outfit. No...no, that wouldn't do....definitely not! She cursed and dove into the closet herself. Where was that durned thing? How was she supposed to seek out ninjas with her sister in her pajamas for goodness sake? Finally she found it: her jugglers outfit from her teens. She didn't bother to wonder how it had ended up at the bottom of her closet, even though she wore it every day. Pulling it on she looked at herself. The black pants and tanktop fit perfectly, not too tight, and not too loose. The duster coat she wore over it went down to her wrists where her fingerless gloves hugged her large hands. The coat's skirt-back hung down to her ankles, swaying gently as she walked. Quickly Degorram slipped her favorite juggler's knives into her boots and snatched her scythe from its position of leaning against the wall. Not that this was abnormal dress or weaponry for Degorram: two things she always carried around were he scythe and an enchanted quill. With a *pop* she was gone, standing in the library where she had sensed Wyvern's almost-dragonic presence. And there before her was the dragon himself, flipping through a book. Silently she stood behind him and tapped his shoulder. "Do you knwo what's with the half-wit ninjas?"

Degorram sucked on the edge of her quill, thinking of what to write down next. Her current book was plaguing her again: here it was at 2 am and she had dragged herself out of her comfy bed only to be faced with a writers block. The very idea irked her. In rage she dipped her quill into the ink and scribbled quickly at the bottom of the page, 'And everybody died! The End.' "There you nasty creature!" she spat, throwing the quill, still wet, against the wall. "Take that and never bother me again." Of course, she new well that in the morning she would scratch the two sentences out and start afresh on her ending. Degorram, though exhausted, also new that she wouldn't sleep the rest of the night. Even as the words had failed to slipp through her fingers and onto paper, they whirled around in her brain, whittling away at her concentration. So she sat next to the window, staring out into the night, her fingers toying a book thong. Her jet black hair faded into bright red, to purple, to red, back to black, and over and over again until her face was framed by what resembled the flashing of an angry squid. She flicked her tail hungrily like a cat stalking its prey as she picked through various words and phrases. The rooftops of the Pen complex spread dark and mysterious below her window. High up in the Conservatory Tower where she spent most of her days (when she wasn't lurking in the Assembly Room far below on the streets) she could see everything. Degorram could almost sense the different minds sleeping soundly, their own thoguths giving them pleasant dreams....or nightmares. This was a new power she was developing, and she knew she should be careful....but why not? They were all asleep anyway and she was bored out of her mind. Closing her eyes she sought a friend and entered their dreams, delighting in the various images that floated before her eyes. With a mischievous and throughly nasty chuckle she prodded the dream her own way and continued to watch. So she could give and change dreams too! Wonderful.... Degorram was pulled sharply from her dream casting when a noise blasted into her senses. She winced and looked around. She had let her defenses slip while she was busy: normally she was concious enough, even when sleeping, to guard her well attuned senses against noises and smells. Her eyes focused in on the noise maker down on the roof. And she stared and stared. A black shadow had fallen in an ungainly manner onto one of the lower rooftops. The person picked themselves up with a groan and looked back up at the tower. Their eyes connected and Degorram got a flash of white to pay for it. When her eyes cleared from the flash grenade, the shadow was gone. Not a second later, Degorram had morphed halfway across the Pen complex to stand outside one of her sister's door. Raising a fist she pounded loudly on it, shouting at the top of her lungs. "KIKUYU BLACK PAWS WAKE YOUR LAZY BUTT UP!"

Ire was silent next to Ember as they walked back into town later that night. Much had been discussed in the warm kitchen of Pan's home, from magical properties to war tactics. The faun had been mostly silent through it all, speaking only to offer tea or correct Ember's grammar. His presence had been a soft and steady purr in Ire's mind. Now that it was gone, she almost missed it. "This is where I leave you," Ember said, jolting her out of her thoughts. They had come to the edge of the town, the intersection between the paths leading in to the houses and the paths leading out to the cliffs. "I prefer to stay in the woods. Can you get home safely from here?" He bit his lip in a grimace and grinned at her sour look. "Sorry: you live here, I don't. Forget I asked, will you?" Ire rolled her eyes. "Good night, Ember. I'll see you in the morning." "Right," Ember said, backing away. "Good night." Ire walked into the town, hugging herself. She had never been so consumed with her thoughts before. The night had been strange indeed: an odd (dare she say handsome?) mage and an intimidating, awe inspiring faun had just walked into her life. She didn't want to blink or go to sleep for fear that her two new friends would vanish, trickle through her fingers like her parents: here today, gone tomorrow. She sniffed and wiped away a tear, cursing her monthly rage of hormones. What a time to get teary! Shouldn't she be happy that she had new allies? Ire realized that a normal person with stable emotions might feel happy. But the discussion of war had brought the reality of her revenge to the front of her brain, and she had realized that even if she killed the feudal lord and avenged her parents, it was certain that other friends would die in the attempt. And who would she reap vengeance upon then? Ire took a shuddering sigh and paused in the streets, leaning against a wall. Perhaps she should just give up the revenge thing. It was best for everyone. Liar, a nasty voice in her head whispered. Best for your friends maybe. What about the starving children in the streets, or the young men and women who are thrown into petty wars only to be slaughtered like sheep? Ire looked up at the road before her. Three filthy boys huddled on pieces of burlap in a corner, shivering in the night air. A man, not even past his twenties, hobbled into his house with a crutch, one leg missing entirely. Ire clenched a fist and gently thumped it against the wall. That settled it. No more crying! The feudal lord had to go. Besides, the voice said in her mind. Don't you think that your friends realize the dangers? Stop worrying for them and let them do that for themselves.

Wow: it's too much for my brain to handle! I'm sorry Quincunx, I really appreciate your help, but I couldn't really understand what you were trying to say in "Show, don't tell." I'll try again when my brain isn't so mashed. Until then, I'll try my best with the story. I wish I knew what you all were talking about! Dego

Thanks for the advice and encouragement, Wyvern. I don't really understand what you mean by changing perspectives, as I don't realize that I am doing it. I'll try harder.....if I can figure out what I'm doing. Dego

Ire stared at the faun, eyes wide. His angular visage invoked all sorts of feelings in her: horror, sadness, awe. He reminded her of the fairy tales her parents had told her when she had been a little girl....when they had still been alive. Pan blinked his opaque eyes at her and cocked his head to one side. "It is an honor to meet you," he said softly. His voice was musical and reminded her of bells. He reached out a long fingered hand. Ire stumbled out of her shock in an embarrassing manner. She stuttered her greetings and accepted the faun's hand, blushing furiously. The faun smiled and turned to Ember. A low clicking noise rose in his throat, the mixture between a growl and a purr. "Would you like to come in?" Ember bowed back to the faun, also smiling. "We'd love to, thanks." Pan chuckled and turned, walking into a door that had suddenly appeared in the tree. Because of his heavy hooves, he lifted his feet in an almost stately manner. Ire imagined him an actor on a stage, placing emotion into every action. "If you please, no fire this time?" he asked quietly, placing a hand on the frame of the door and looking back at them. "I'd prefer not to have to put it out, much less clean up afterwards." Ember smiled and touched his forehead. "I promise, no fire." He followed the faun into the tree, winking at Ire as he passed her. "Coming?" Ire nodded faintly as she walked into the door. She looked up, her mouth hanging open in awe. The door was at least seven feet tall, to fit the faun who lived there. Moss hung like curtains on the sides, and the walls of the tree as she walked in were not bark, but cold stone. Intricate carvings followed her path as she moved slowly into the tree, following the footsteps of her friend. She didn't notice that the floor angled downward, nor that it had descended into spiraling steps. Her eyes were on the carvings, which showed stories: trolls, gnomes, fairies, people of the woods, and the same picture of a faun among them. He looked alot like Pan. When she reached the bottom, she came to an intersection and realized that she had been left behind. In one direction, the stone halls twisted on without the carvings. In the other direction, the carvings continued to curl across the walls. Cursing softly, Ire picked the carvings and turned left, following the pictures. She walked for several more minutes, turning and twisting until she felt completely lost. At alst she saw a door before her. Like the walls, it was intricately carved. A tree was drawn on its surface, the two main branches gnarled like Pan's horns. She gently pushed the door open and found herself in a small, cozy room. The walls were covered with bookshelves, and a large reading chair sat against the opposite wall next to a writing desk. On the desk was paper, quills, and several ink pots. A large book of fairy tales lay open on the chair. Walking to it, she looked through its pages to find that the stories inside were very similar to what she had seen on the walls. "Easy to get lost, isn't it?" Ire jumped, putting the book down quickly as she whirled to see Pan standing in the doorway, watching her. "Yes," she said, unnerved. "It is." Pan walked forward and looked around silently. "This is my room," he said. "It's lovely," Ire said uncomfortably. Pan glanced back down at her. "Why do you fear me?" he asked. Ire shook her head. "I don't fear you. Well, not really. My parents told me tales about the people of the woods, and I've always imagined that they were here, but I've never met one. And truth be told, you're rather large." She clamped her mouth shut, clowing off her babbling. Pan stared at her, expressionless. For a while he said nothing. Finally, he walked forward and picked up the fairy tale book, carressing its pages gently. "My parents told me of the wood people too," he said, so quietly that Ire had to strain to hear him. "Great tales of heroics and love. I remembered them all and wrote them down in this book." "Where are your parents now?" Ire asked without thinking. Pan was again silent for a while. Then he shut the book stiffly and put it down. "Dead," he said. Turning he left the room, pausing at the door. "We have much to discuss," he said without looking at her. Another pause interupted his speech and for a moment Ire could have swarn she saw his shoulders sag in a sigh. Then he looked back at her and offered a hand. "It would be best not to get lost again." Ire gulped and took his hand, inwardly marveling at the feel of his bark-like skin. Without a word they walked back through the halls, hand in hand.

(For the record, there is a Faun named Pan in the upcoming movie, Pan's Labyrinth. He looks exactly as I have described him, and though I have not seen the movie, I love their interpretation of the creatures of the forest. I just thought I should say that, since 'Pan' is not of my own creation. However, the character himself in my story should be quite different than in the movie, which is going to be stinking awesome!)

Ire followed Ember out of the inn quietly. The sky around them had grown dark, speckeled with millions of stars and a single glowing orb that sat diligently behind a patch of clouds. He led her up the street away from the ocean towards the cliffs. He did not say a word as they walked. Ire had never been outside after dark. For one thing, it was forbidden, and for another, it was very dangerous. The rocks were sharp and could easily trip one up, sending them over the cliffs onto the ocean below. Not to mention the countless nightcrawlers, both human and beast, that would pounce if you were either pretty or a good meal. Ember seemed to know his way around, however, and led her safely up the streets and out of the town. As soon as they were out of sight, he pulled a small lantern from under his cloak. It was octagonal in shape with a top that slanted inwards to a small, netted top. The glass was crystal clear and the pieces of metal that held the panes together was a glimmering, brown color. The lantern glowed with a gentle yellow light that flickered in a rapid series of fading in and out. Ire looked closer and almost gasped in delight to see several large lightning bugs floating lazily around, bumping against the glass. "Pan made it for me," Ember explained when she questioned him about it. When she exasperatedly asked who in the world Pan was, he shook his head and smiled. "You'll see," he said. Ire gave up and settled into a quick pace at his side. When they reached the cliff rocks, Ember turned right sharply and headed into the thick forest. Ire's heart fluttered faintly. She had never been into the forest at night, and she had heard horrible stories of goblins and trolls that lived among the mosses and tree trunks that were a hundred feet in circumferance. It was dark at first. Ember moved aside the many branches and thorn brambles, excusing himself to the trees and bushes they belonged to as he moved forwards. Ire, too stunned for words, merely followed in silence and let him speak to the trees undisturbed. Then, as if the sun had come, everything turned golden. She blinked and found that past the thick, nightmarish brambles, the forest opened up. The trees were huge indeed, but were spread apart and not clustered together. The bushes were short and soft and the mosses clung to rocks and roots in the fuzzy manner that made her want to pet them. Tiny mushrooms of vibrant colors sprouted from the ground. Lightning bugs, like the ones in Ember's lantern, buzzed about drunkenly. And for several feet in all directions, the lanter in Ember's hand cast a soft glow. The forest was so fairy-like that Ire felt she should be speaking to the various foliage. Ember led her deeper and deeper into the forest. Ire kept feeling that she was being watched, and every time she looked at the surrounding trees, she saw glittering eyes. It unnerved her, so she eventually stopped looking. Finally they came upon a clearing in the forest. It was huge, with an enormous tree in the center. It was gnarly and harsh looking with soot colored bark that twisted like hardened lava. The leaves, like every other tree in the forest, were a gold tinted green. "Pan!" Ember called out to the tree. Ire was incredulous: he'd brought her all this way to see a tree? How rediculous. She was about to say something when from behind the tree, something moved, walking out into the lanter light. Perhaps something should be explained to the reader here. When you think of fauns, you no doubt think of a well groomed creature who is half human and half goat. Well, that is true of most fauns. There is, however, a special type of faun that only lives in the goblin inhabited parts of forests. The creature that emerged was this kind of faun. He was tall and slightly bent at the waist. His skin was like the bark of the tree in which he lived, except mottled brown and green. From the waist down his body was that of a goat. His face was pale and smooth; it resembled both a human's face and a goat's face. His ears were long and curved, sticking straight out from the sides of his head. The hair that coated his head and the sides of his cheeks was brown and tangled. Two large, black, gnarled horns rose from his brow and curled around. On his forehead were two, strange swirling marks. His eyes were a dark blue color, with harldy any distinguishable pupils. The faun bowed low, his long, tangled hair sweeping over one shoulder. Ember grinned at her astonished face. "Ember, meet Pan."

Ire blinked. "Magic??" She was stunned at her own stupidity. So bent on revenge and she had never thought of pursuing the most powerful of all trades. The idea of using magic against her foes had never crossed her brain. And, if what she had heard was true about the arts, then her cause would definitely benefit from learning. "What kind do you have in mind?" Ember shrugged. "All kinds. I'm a jack-of-all-trades; while I specialize in the fire art, I have dipped my fingers into...almost....every kind of magic there is. I can teach you whatever you want." He walked over to the windowsill and sat down. Ire braced herself for a lecture. "There are several different arts of magic. The basics are the elemental arts, fire, water, wind, and earth. The arts of light and darkness are just slightly more complicated and require more study. The most complicated arts," he paused and muttered under his breath, "...excluding the death art, of course...." and continued, "are the arts of color. You've no doubt heard of blue and black magic. While exceedingly difficult to manage, the majority of worldwide mages usually master color magics. You could spend your entire life studying one color and just barely skim the surface. Then you can begin to mix and match the colors: for example, the summoning spell is purple magic. The art of scrying, seeing or speaking to things far away, is blue magic. Transpoting that thing to your location is red magic, and placing them together is called purple magic." He frowned. "Are you understanding all this? I know it must sound strange: I called my first teacher insane." He chuckled. "No," Ire said, shaking her head. "Actually, it's fascinating." The idea of magic was capturing her mind like spiders' webs. "But what did you mean when you said 'excluding the death art'? What is the death art?" Ember's smile vanished. He cleared his throat and looked away. "It's not actually called the death art. That's my personal nickname for it. This type of magic is technically called the lightning art. Few believe it exists and even few have mastered it. All but one of the students of lightning art died. Why? Because the lightning art takes its power from the mind of the user. If you can imagine it, you can do it. Thus it is extremely powerful and dangerous, even in the right hands." "Can you control it?" Ire asked, eyes wide. Ember shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "I've never wanted to learn. You see, there are several reasons why most sane mages won't even touch books about the lightning art. The two main reasons are thus: one, because of the strain the art puts on body and mind, an unexperianced mage could involuntarily rip himself, or the world, or even reality to shreds. Two, because the lightning art is almost a sentient being. It thinks, it plans, it has ideas. And none of them are good." He paused and sighed. "I'm going to be your teacher, so I might as well tell you. I have a third, personal reason to stay away from this art. My brother was enchanted by it. And he is no longer the man he used to be. When he was young, he was gentle and quiet: the happiest child in the town." His eyes became distant and he chuckled softly. "He is younger than me, by three years. But we used to play together in the woods for hours. We were good friends with the people of the forest, and my brother loved animals." He frowned at the floor. "He was very smart. My parents sent him to a mages school when he was ten. When he came back.....he was no longer the brother I knew. He was cold and disdainful. I found him a few times in the forest killing animals for pleasure." Ember's frown deepened. "He went insane under the power of lightning art. My parents are dead because of it." He sighed. "He changed his own name and left home. I was alone and starving: I joined a group of traveling magicians and that's where I leaned. Recently I have found where my brother is, which is mainly why I have come to teach you. My brother is in the castle on that hill." He pointed to the feudal lord's fortress. Ire gulped. Great. Another powerful mage to deal with. "What did he change his name to?" Ember grimaced. "He calls himself Slaughter." Sighing he stood. "Enough of that conversation. Come: I want to show you your other teacher." Ire stood and raised an eyebrow. "My other teacher??" she asked. "So now there's two." Ember smiled. "Just follow me."

"So now what?" Greed asked excitedly as they filed back into the Salty Sunfish. They picked a table near the back to keep their privacy as they talked. Ire shrugged. She had told them all that had happened in the tent. Now that that was done, her energy of exictement had faded into the mental silence of anxiety. She had no idea what she was going to do to get started. "I can't stay here," she said, chewing a fingernail. "I can't afford it, now that Master Gada will be pulling my funding. First of all, I'm naming you two my advisors. The second thing to do is to set up a camp for the rest of the strike team and a make a training schedule." At the table next to them, a man in the shadows perked up. He pulled his mug closer to hide his face, listening intently. The students were unaware. "Let's get started then," Vengeance said, pulling out a piece of parchment and laying it flat on the table. The charcoal pencil he always had flashed across its surface and a quick camp layout was formed. "The main tent, where we three will sleep, will be on the inside so that we can send out orders quickly and efficiently. The others in the strike team will be placed into circles of four tents. The bathrooms will be over here, the training grounds over here. I have a good idea where this camp can be placed." Ire frowned. "You're freaky, V: the only person in the village who can make a camp in three seconds." The phoenix boy grinned. "I do try. Anyway, I suggest we place this camp on the cliffs, where we will be out of the castle's sight. If the feudal lord sees a strange camp preparing for battle, he'll get suspiscious and wipe us out." "And in case he does find out," Greed said, pointing at the permeter of the map, "we'll have four watches a night, six hours each. There should be enough students so that no one will have to do it twice in a week." Ire sighed. "Well, that's that. You guys are a big help." With that the two boys grinned and siad their good nights. Ire was left alone at her table where she continued to think. A man brushed her chair roughly and she looked up. One of the usual drunks was leering down at her. "Heard some of yer little conversation," he said, his ale sodden breath wafting over her in a noxious fume. "Settin' up camp with the boys, eh?" Ire could see where this was going; the hairs on her nape began to rise. Behind her, the man in the shadows slowly stood, hand on a hidden sword hilt. "I am," she said frostily. "And what're they payin' yeh?" he asked, moving closer. "I could use some comp'ny tonight....." Her fist flew out to bash him in the gut, knocking him over. A gasp of sour air escpaed his mouth as he collapsed on the floor. Ire stood. She hadn't hit the man hard, but an unprepared stomach always left the victim breathless. "I'm not doing this for money," she said quietly. "And I'm not sharing their beds either. I'm avenging my parents' death. Don't dare get in my way." Turning to walk away, she ran into the lean chest of another man. Her fists curled defensively, but the man backed away, hands open and at his sides. "Forgive me," he said. "But may I have a word? Alone?" Ire dropped her hands and examined the man gruffly. He was tall and and lithe with the muscles of one who was either running or walking all the time. His clothes were weather rotten and his hair hadn't been washed in a long time. It hung in greasy strings around his face, which was covered in dirt and streaked with sweat. Before, Ire wouldn't have ever 'had a word' with such a man, especially 'alone' but something about him made her pause. There was an ice in his eyes, one that spoke of a power that didn't spend its precious time chasing teenage girls. "Sure," she replied, adding just in case, "But don't pull anything." The man's face broke into a wry smirk. "Hadn't crossed my brain." He followed her into the upper levels as she lead him to her room, boots making almost no sound as he crept behind her. Once upstairs, she sat on her bed and faced him, leaving a small dagger visible at her side. He saw it and made no note as he closed the door. With a wave and a murmurred word that she did not catch, the room glowed blue temporarily, then resettled into its candle-lit hue. "What was that?" Ire asked, awed. She knew magic when she saw it, and she had only seen it once as a girl. A young man had eaten fire in the market place, traveling with a small circus of jugglers and body-weavers. Even though it had been long ago, she remembered vividly the magic and how it had entranced her. Her only copper piece had gone to that man. "That was magic," the man said, watching her. "You've seen it before, I can tell. In fact, from the way your thoughts have suddenly moved, I can tell you recognise me." Ire, both astonished and irritated, didn't know which emotion to persue first. Choosing anger, she frowned. "I don't like my thoughts being monitered," she growled. "Apologies," the man said, bowing and touching his lips. "It won't happen again." "And why do you say I recognise you?" she asked. "Because I've never seen you in my life." It hit her just before he answered. "I am the fire eater," he said. "You watched me in the market place long ago. You may no know me, but I certainly remember you. The only girl who ever gave notice." He chuckled dryly as she blushed and frowned again. "My name is Ember. And I want to help you." "Help me how?" she asked. "You don't even know anything about me." The fire eater cleared his throat and laughed uncomfortably. "Well, haha, I did listen in on your conversation, so actually do." He coughed again and straightened imperiously. "I am here to teach you magic."

The tent was circular, giving the room a bigger appearance than it really was. A rung had been spread on the ground and it squished under her feet like baby grass in spring. Lamps stood next to the walls in a circle, the red glass giving the entire room a warm, and yet almost sinister feeling. Every bit of cloth that decorated the place was either dark brown or red. The table that sat longways in front of her was filled with the elders: ten people in all, two of which she knew. Gada sat in the middle, next to the some of the eldest elementals in the village. Orreck sat near the end, with the other younger council members. A shiver ran up her spine. Many of the elders watched her almost.....smugly...... "Student Ire, you have applied to become an elemental," a woodsman sitting next to Gada grumbled. His gravelly voice sounded like a mixture of a rock slide, the wind in the trees, and a babbling brook. Dressed all in green and brown, he looked like an aged tree, his rough, brown skin resembling bark. Thick, bushy eyebrows like caterpillars crawled across his forehead. "You have passed your test on the cliffs and Master Gloom has approved you, as has Master Orreck." He looked up at her, piercing green eyes staring almost hauntingly. "However, the rest of the council, including myself, have decreed that you will not join us." The jolt came harder than Ire had imagined it. Tears sprung into her eyes, only to be forced back by her iron will. It wasn't like she had been optimistic. "Don't look like the plague, child," the man snapped. "I'm not finished." Ire jumped, eyes widening. Was this the end of her life in the village.....? "Master Orreck and Master Gada have brought a very valid point before the eyes of the council. But before I tell you what that is, I want you to know the reason for our delayment of you initiation into elemental." He raised his eyebrows and continued. "The council believes that, though you are ready, there are several reasons we should continue to delay you for now. One, is that you are indeed human, and though you are capable, the elementals is run by elementals, hence the name. Two, you have a terrible anger in your heart: this must be destroyed, which is why you will proceed to the post of Assassin." Ire blinked. What? "The feudal lord," he continued, "has become a problem, a danger. More and more children are not making it past the age of four and without our youth, the village will die. You will solve this, as soon as possible. If you are not ready before the next summer solstice to depart on your mission, the assignment will be given over to someone else and you will be placed into the elementals. You understand? If you are not prepared in twelve months, your chance for revenge will be gone." Again his eyebrows waggled at her to emphasize his point. Ire snapped out of her trance. "Yes....of course....sir. I understand." "Good!" he boomed. "You will be assigned a strike team of the elementals' best fighters, including your comrades, students Greed and Vengeance. You will train them, they will train you," he waved a hand, "etcetera, etcetera. You are dismissed. And remember: the summer solstice." Ire bowed, head spinning. Turning to leave, she lost sight and floated through her steps in a reverie: the next thing she remembered, she was cartwheeling down the paths, whooping, her friends running in a bewildered state behind her. An elder sighed. "How undignified."

Dancing at the OLYMPICS! Awwww man! Lucky....*puts on hit list*

In my English Class we are writing a book. It is loosely titled: 101 Things To Do Before Graduation. You would be greatly appreciated if you could help me in this. Answer the questions below! Thank you my literate friends! Dego p.s. If you have already graduated from high school, please still partake. I'm sure you can remember what you thought way back when. 1. What is your favorite place to hang out around town? (no specifics) 2. What is something you have done that you believe everyone should do before graduation? 3. What is something you would like to do before graduation? 4. What activity have you noticed that is popular among the people you hang out with. 5. What are some of your goals? 6. If you could buy something really expensivve with no limits, what would it be? 7. If you could do something for someone else with no limits, what would it be? 8. If you could create anything, what would it be and who would it benefit? 9. What do you want to do the last summer before you leave for college?

Oh, most well debated! I agree entirely: self flushing toilets are evil. I enjoyed every intricately placed word and cannot wait to read more of your stuff! ~Dego

Ire strolled down the streets of the town, staring at her feet. Truthfully, she was worried. More than worried: she was petrified that the elders would have her thrown out. Then what would she do? Train by myself in the forest, of course, she thought sulkily. Even then, safe in her thoughts, the idea seemed silly. Gada had been her mentor since she had been six, and though he had trained her to be able to build up one's strength, she doubted she would be able to actually make an improvement. She turned a corner and came to the edge of town. Before her, Hydra Beach stretched for miles. The sun was getting lower in the sky to her right, casting faint colors of fire onto the vast ocean's surface. A sea breeze blew her chocolate brown hair out behind her. This was her home. If she were forced to leave, it might just kill her. She walked along the beach until she came upon the back door of an inn called the Salty Sunfish. Letting herself in with a tiny, rusted key, she tossed her cloak onto a bench and headed up to the room she stayed in. As Gada's student, he payed for her room, board, and whatever equipment she needed. If she were to be let into the elementals, however, that would all change. She would have to find a job in the surrounding lands to pay for her own things. Opening the door to her room, she collapsed onto her bed with an exhausted sigh. A few minutes later, Greed and Vengeance appeared in her doorway. She welcomed them in and they took up their usual posts: the gyphon boy hanging upside down from the rafters, Vengeance leaning on the door frame. "I don't think I can do this," Ire said truthfully as she stripped off her dirty shirt and pulled on a fresh one. The boys, their eyes securely elsewhere, snorted. "Sure you can do it," Greed said, striped hair dangling like mistletoe. "If you can't who can? You done yet?" Ire checked herself in the tiny wall mirror. "Yeah, I'm good." The two boys opened their eyes and Greed continued. "To be frank, the odds are against you. Not a one of the elders, excepting Gada and Orreck, like you. And that's only two out of ten. But they all know that they must accept a student if they are ready no matter what race they are. They're supposed to keep their prejudices out of the selection process." He paused and frowned. "Come to think of it....they don't seem to like anyone, actually...." Ire sighed. "I know how it's done, Greed," she said, sitting back on her bed and clutching the tiny stuffed dragon she had had since she was a baby, its leather tongue protruding in a silly manner. "The problem is, I don't think that they do themselves." "Either that," Vengeance said quietly, "or they are in denial." He looked out the window. "It's time. We had better get going." Ire shivered. Already? She had hoped she could visit a few more friends before her doom was sealed.... ************** "You look like death, Ire," Greed said as they walked down the street towards the center of town where the elders held council. The girl cast him a glare. "Thanks," she snapped. "That was helpful." The gryphon shrugged. "Well you do," he muttered. "You could try to brighten up," Vengeance said. "If they see you're afraid, they'll just take that as another excuse to throw you out." "Listen to your friends' advice," a chilly voice said behind them. The three turned to see a lanky, black skinned man walking towards them. His silvery-white hair was ragged and looked half-dry. He observed them with calm, almost bored grey eyes. "Master Orreck," the students murmurred, bowing as one. The dark elf nodded to them and pointed at Ire. "You know you have my vote," he said softly. "But I would do as your friends suggest. The elders have eyes trained to find your weaknesses; they will use it." "I'm not afraid of monsters or war," Ire said as they continued to walk forward. "What I'm afraid of is that they will not take me in at all. If that happens, what will I do with my life? I won't have a purpose any more." Orreck shrugged. "We all have purposes: they change, every now and then. When I was young, my purpose was to assassinate the Golden One, and look what happened to me?" Ire couldn't argue. Orreck's past was much more turbulent than her own, and he had been accepted into the elementals. The dark elf's father had trained his son specifically to try and kill the wisest and strongest of dragons, and Orreck had been exceedingly capable to do so. And yet he had managed to escape his father's plan and become a student instead. If a dark elf with so horrible a past had been allowed into the elementals, why couldn't she? They entered the outer section of the tent in silence. The master and students traded bows and Orreck left them to walk into the inner part. Ire stood in the shadows, away from the candle light as more and more masters walked in. She and her friends didn't talk as the dreaded moment drew nearer. Finally a young student opened the inner tent flaps. "The student Ire may now enter." With one last glance at her friends, Ire walked forward; straightening her back and lifting her chin, she entered the inner tent.