To Put Upon a Shelf [Another Long Story]

Okay, so this is a long story set in "medieval times" read it and tell me if it's worth continuing, if I used enough description, or if you think it would sell.

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                    To Put Upon A Shelf
                                  By Mike Lewis


      At a time in early history, a time before the time know today, lived a thriving society of man. They called themselves God. The name however does not imply that they believed they were all powerful, the name in their language meant, The Kind. And so they lived in the kindness that many today reserve only for themselves. They went out of their way to assist anyone who needed it and would work, not for money, but because it was the right thing to do, to further their society. But The Kind weren’t along in the world, they had the Groclins. A tribe of evil spirited men and women who had developed from a little village, to an entire country. They believed in no deity and only in themselves, believing that their warmongering society was the most powerful in the lands yet discovered and beyond. They were ruled, it is said, by an evil shadow, who’s master had died long ago. Though instead of following it’s master into the grave, it separated itself. It was no ordinary shadow any longer. It could control the minds of the weak and make them commit unspeakable atrocities. And so it found a hold in the heart of the Groclin King, Jeremiah.
     
      And so Jeremiah, or The Dark as he was referred to, led his bloody people into a war against The Kind. They fought for over a thousand years, the Groclins lead by their evil master, and The Kind led by an unknown force. It was called The Light, long before The Dark was spawned. It was the controlling power over the Kind. It seemed to help them and direct them to new discoveries or new lands, though no one had ever seen it. That is, until the thousandth year of the Shadow’s War. I was one of the chosen. I became a servant of the Light, I became a Soul Catcher.

     
                            Chapter 1.
                      The Groclin Knight

      It was my sixteenth birthday. The old cabin where me, my mother and father, brother, and four grandparents lived was in shining cleanness. My father and I had just replaced the old moldy thatch of the roof with the freshest we could find. My mother had cleaned the entire of the little house, including the cellar, a place I’d never even gone. And so the floorboard were shining with the fancy cow wax my father had bought at market, the curtains hung over the windows, allowing just enough light in to make it comfortable. Standing from the old hide armchair I looked around. It was a beautiful sight, all shining and clean.  Walking across the small living room. I opened a small box setting upon the mantle. Shuffling through it’s contents, I found a small silver coin. Smiling, I plucked it from the box and let the lid fall closed with a slight clap. Turning back to the room, I held the coin up. A whole silver piece. I grinned happily and looked around the room. It was a small circular living space with a single window set against the wall opposite me. The walls were made of a dark birch that I’d helped cut when I was ten, the logs were bent slightly to accommodate the shape of the room. In between the logs was light grey river clay, an idea that came straight from me when we were searching a way to close the holes. Around me set two old bearskin chairs, stuffed to the popping with straw, and a matching sofa. All placed around the fireplace for when we lounged after dinner.

      With the stupid grin still on my face, I dropped the small silver coin into the coin pouch that hung from the old leather belt around my waist and walked through the door to my left. Stepping into the kitchen, I breathed in deeply, smelling the cooling apple pie on the windowsill and the light, sweet fragrance of summer flowers on the table. Turning to my right, I looked up the stairs into the sleeping room, or the attic as it were in wealthier people’s houses. My father’s parents and my mother’s mother were still up there sleeping, even as it was almost midday. Stepping into the well lit kitchen, I felt the cold stone cobbles under my feet and shivered at the touch. Walking over to the large table in the center of the little room, I plucked a flower from the old clay vase and tucked it into the breast pocket of the old deer hide vest I wore. Edging around the table past the old iron stove, I walked out the door into the bright, hot summer day.
     
      My family lives on the side of a mountain. It’s not a large mountain, I can climb to the peak with ease. But it is rocky and steep and has very little farmable land. That’s why my father must spend weeks at a time down in the fields at the base of the mountain, right near the town. The town is small and cozy, everyone knows everyone’s names. It’s about two hours jog from my house at a steep slope, and about five hours in a wagon on the road. My mother had gone down to visit my father earlier that day and had taken my brother and her father with her. Again taking a deep breath of the sweet summer air, I set off down the side of the mountain. It was a steep hill, but it was grassy and only had rocky outcroppings in a few places. Other than the rocks though, the mountainside was empty, making for an enjoyable run.

      Dashing past the scenery, I laughed and lumped into the air, sailing a good twenty feet before my bare feet touched back to the slope of the hillside. Stumbling slightly, I caught myself and ran on, enjoying the wind in my hair and the hot sun on my face. Though when I was almost to the village, I noticed an odd amount of smoke coming from the craterlike hole in the ground where I knew the village to be. Frightened, I picked up my pace and soon came to the edge of the massive crater.

      The crater’s edges were jagged rock, making it easier for someone to get in that out. Inside the hole, were miles and miles of fertile farmland, covered with the browning stalks of corn and the bright green of bean plants. And there, in the middle, was the small town of Crater. Named for the place of it’s residence. It had about twenty huts and another twenty shops, including the smithy, baker, butcher, and sew shop. All were made of the same, brownish red plaster and had the same rotten brown thatch roofs. There was only one road in the town, it ran strait down the middle, lined on either side by the forty little buildings.
     
      As I looked down on the village, I realized that the fire came from a huge bonfire in the center of town. At my distance, it looked like nothing more than a match head, though I could see the specs of people standing around. My curiosity piqued, I jumped down the side of the crater like I’d seen the mountain goats that inhabited the area do. Soon I made it to the small dry dirt road leading into town and dashed away, the dry hard earth hurting my feet occasionally when a rock decided to pop up and bite the soles of my feet. After a good five minutes dash, I came into the little town to see that it indeed was a bonfire. Though what was in the center cause me alarm. At the middle of the flashing blaze lay the storehouse of the village, the food that would let them survive the winter. Once before had they not collected enough food and had to travel south to the city of Demore where they lived as gypsies in tents outside the walls. I knew from the last time I was down that the storehouse was almost full, more than enough for the bitter cold seasons.

      Standing around the old wooden building were Groclin soldiers, their steel armor glinting and sending menacing shadows from the blaze. Outside this ring of people were the citizens of Crater, standing in horrified awe at the sight of their lives going up in flame. Stunned, I simply stood just outside the first pair of houses and gaped at the huge fire. Getting my senses, I stepped into the village and joined the small crowd of angered onlookers who at this point were shouting indelicacies at the stony soldiers. Pushing my way to the front of the crowd, I came to face one of the large men. He wore the same style of armor as his companions, only his seemed to be blackened by flame with a large feathery plume running down the center of his black full-face helm. The plates of metal were shaped to form what looked like muscles, giving the man appearance of great strength. Even the stomach of the armor was forged in this fashion. Underneath the black ash, I could see intricate carvings, done by a master at the least. On his hip rested a huge sword. Only a metal loop acted as it’s sheath, letting the four foot blade drag in the dirt behind the large carrier. Looking up at the menacing gladiator helmet, I was stunned to see nothing but blackness behind T-shaped split in the center. He stood at least a foot taller than me, and I was at least six inches greater than any of the villagers. Looking down the line of ragged farmers, I realized that they stood almost five feet back from the soldiers, they may have been yelling and angry, but they were still terrified of these Groclin cur.

      Stepping quickly forward, I shoved the large leader as had as I could in the chest, sending him stumbling back. As his arms had been behind his back, he now wind milled and stumbled. Almost regaining his balance, his oversized broadsword stuck into the ground and caught his belt, making him fall to the side and into the dirt. At the moment he hit the ground the crowd went silent. At that point, I realized how loud they’d been, as all I could hear now was the crackle of the blaze and the clanking as the huge man tried to stand back up. Three of the smaller soldiers ran to his aid, two grabbing his arms to help him up as the last drew his sword, pointing it menacingly at me. Suddenly, without warning, the one with the sword lunged violently at me.

      Easily, with the trained reflexes of an expert woodsman, I swatted the sword away and stepped forward onto the toe of the smaller man. Spinning, I butted my back into him and sent him sprawling, his sword flying from his hand and spinning away into the fire. As he crashed to the ground the other two men, who had just accomplished picking the heavy leader up, drew their weapons and charged me. Jumping into the air, I kicked the back of one of their swords, sending it stabbing into the dirt below me with the momentum of the man wielding it. Landing on top of the sword, it slapped from the man’s gloved hand, smashing painfully into the toe of his leather boot. Turning, I ducked just in time to dodge a swipe from the other man, who had been so taken aback by my jump had paused. Stepping into him, I drove my elbow in the mail hanging over his stomach, just below the plate armor guarding his chest. Glancing up, I could see his eyes bulge as the wind was driven from him. Giving another burst of power, I sent him stumbling back to where he crashed into the large armored man.

      Seeing it coming, the big man grabbed the poor stumbling man’s arm and threw him to the ground next to his metal boots. Suddenly, a roar came from the villagers and they charged the remaining soldiers, though leaving a ring around the large man who now began to walk toward me. His hands behind his back, he slowly meandered toward me until he was but a few feet away. Dropping his hands to his sides, I saw the most beautiful gauntlets I’d ever laid eyes on. They were the traditional layered gauntlet up to the elbow, leaving a long thin spine sticking un behind the arm. At the fingers I could see long spikes protruding from the tips, gleaming angrily in the flashing light of the fire and sun.

      Looking back up to his face, I could see nothing but darkness, a hopeless abyss. A never-ending void. Suddenly, his eyes flashed a vibrant blue, piercing through the darkness, the slits of bright blue terrified me. I had no clue why, but this was scarier than the wolves that had attacked me when I was five, this was scarier than when I’d fallen off of the cliffs and laid at the bottom for hours, screaming for help. This was more terrifying than when my father had disappeared into the woods for a week. This was true terror. Stumbling back, I turned to run, but as hard as I ran, when I looked back, I was in the same place. I could see the ground go by, I could push the crowd out of the way, and yet, I was still in the same place. Finally stopping, I turned back to the tall, heavy man. His blue eyes glowing evilly from beneath his helm.
     
      Jumping forward, I tried to hit him, but he was just out of reach. No matter how many times I lunged, I punched air, swinging and swinging, I couldn’t touch him. It wasn’t that he was moving, it was that I just couldn’t reach far enough to hit him, no matter how many steps I took or punches I threw, there was no way to lay a hand on him. Slowly, he reached down and slid his huge sword from it’s metal loop. Drawing it to it’s full length, he held it above his head. Suddenly he let out and unearthly howl. It sounded like a pack of wolves in my ears, howling on and on and on, soon the howl gave way to a high pitched squeal, feeling as if my ears would split, I doubled over with my hands over the now bleeding openings. The screech gave way to a moan, like a million devastated souls, looking for vengeance against their captors. Looking up, the man had changed, he no longer wore blackened armor, he wore beautiful sparkling white metal layered plate armor. Above, where the sky had been overcast, the clouds had broken apart and a blinding light filtered down through the dust of the windy basin. My eyes traveled down from the sight above to the sword held above the man’s head. It now shone a bright blue, with a silver skull wrapping the cross guard. Laced with diamonds, the hilt sparkled and glistened in the light from the heavenly sight above. All had stopped around us. Not even the villagers fought, they simply stared into the sky at this unearthly light. Jumping forward, I slammed as hard as I could into the man. He simply looked down at me as I pushed into his stomach, trying to topple him and stop this awful spectacle. Reaching down, he clamped his gauntlet into my arm and flung me on the ground. Feeling my flesh tear, I screamed in pain and fell to the dust.

      Looking up, I could see the blue sword, slowly arcing down toward me. So slowly, so painfully slowly. Pulling my hands up, I crossed them over my face before everything went black. I was floating. I floated on an invisible puff of air in a dark abyss.  I could see nothing, feel nothing but the feeling of flight. I could hear nothing but the dripping of water, echoing somewhere in the distance. Then, without warning, I was dropped, and millions of stars came into sight, flashing by me as I fell. Turning from streaks of light into solid starburst, I could feel the dry ground beneath me. Dust coated my face and lips, my throat burned with an intensity I’d never experienced before. I could feel a rock digging into my back and knew I was alive. Closing my eyes and blinking the dust away, I sat up. Reaching to rub my face, a lump hit me in the side of the head. Alarmed I opened my eyes to find my hand had been cut off from the wrist. Now a stump, covered with dried blood remained. Screaming, I closed my eyes and slammed myself back to the ground. My other hand I felt was okay, and I lifted it to my face, covering my bloodied skin. I was hot and thirsty, and tired.
     
      Soon I found myself asleep, dreaming of the soft silky green grass of the mountainside, my friends off to one side dueling with metal pokers we’d ‘borrowed’ from the smithy. I cheered and booed as they swung at each other, beads of sweat dotting their brows at they tried not to get hurt or hurt each other. Laying back I looked into the blue sky. The sun shone brightly and warmed my face. Closing my eyes, I put my arms behind my head.

      With a jolt I opened my eyes. I was looking again into the starry sky. The dry dust blowing all around me, my arms lying achingly next to me, my bloody stump of a right hand ached and I could feel the dried blood crack as I twitched and moved. Sitting up, I held my wounded limb in my left hand and looked at the clean, smooth cut. Looking up, I could see the remains of the food storehouse and the dark figures of others lying about. Scared of what I would find if I looked at them too closely. I staggered to my feet, stumbling drunkenly as I walked back to the edge of the crater.


                    Chapter 2.
                To Home to Home

      Staggering on, I tripped over smoldering logs and stumbled through the ashes of burned hovels and shops, burning my feet on several occasion. Though I continued toward the black outline of the mountain on the dark grey sky. Relentlessly, I trudged on through fields now thoroughly destroyed and burned, past the trunks of hacked and smashed trees, not understanding that the line of destruction was on the same path to my home.

      After a long five hour walk, the sun began peaking over the mountain, sending short bursts of glorious sunshine through the dark clouds covering the sky. Though my vision was blurred by the dust in my eyes, I could still make out the path to my house, still unaware that the path I walked was a blackened and destroyed one. Even the outcroppings of rock I passed, the ones I used to climb on and jump off of with my friends were smashed and reduced to gravel. Soon though, as I was about to come over the ridge hiding my home from view, I couldn’t continue on and fell to my hands and knees. My burnt and sore feet ached and throbbed in the dry dirt. After a moment of sitting like that, I collapsed completely, face down in the burnt grass. Breathing in, I smelled the fire that had been there not seven hours before.

      My eyes slammed open. Lurching up with newfound strength, I dashed over the blackened ridge, now seeing, for the first time in my six hour trudge, the trail of destruction. Coming over the peak of land, I looked to where my house used to be. But no more. Instead a huge crater lay where it had been. It seemed as if the house had been ripped from the ground with a handful of earth, shaken and thrown down again. Horrified, I stumbled to the hole in the ground to find scraps of log and clay were strewn across the fire scarred ground. The cow’s corral had been burned, fortunately, the cows had been out to pasture when they had come. The fences I’d just helped put up the day before were also ripped up and scattered across the now stomped and burned garden. Glancing around, I found that there was a large number of tracks leading off to the west into the sun. That was where these monsters had gone, and so that was where I was to go.

      I was about to start walking after them when I noticed a small number of tracks leading further up the mountain, they were slow and dragging, a sign that the walkers had been injured or elderly, I put my money on elderly. With renewed hope, I set off after these tracks. Stumbling along into the unburned grass. The green grass I had dreamt about as I lay in the dust of the burned village. Unable to move any more, I fell to the earth, happy that my family had made it away before the unholy Groclins had made it to them. I closed my eyes slowly, sinking into a deep sleep.

      It felt that not a minute had passed when I awoke. Opening my eyes slowly to feel a soft straw pillow beneath my head and a soft leather cloak draped across my body. I lay on a multitude of cloth sacks that felt and smelled as if they were filled with flour. Suddenly whatever I was on jerked and shuddered violently and I came to my wits. Sitting up, I saw that I was in an old wooden wagon. It was made of the same dark birch my house had been made of, only in thinner boards. Looking up, I could see an old dirt road winding it’s way back the way we’d come. I was shocked to see a dense foliage on either side of the road. I was in a forest, with huge trees towering over the path, shadowing the brush on the forest floor. Spinning around, I could see the back of a person on the driver’s bench, holding the reins close to him. He wore a dark red cloak with the hood up, which I thought odd since it was so hot out in mid summer.

      “Where am I?” I asked, my voice cracking, making my throat hurt. I sounded hoarse and like I hadn’t drunk water in a year. The person, whoever they were just continued directing the two mules pulling the cart without so much as a glance back. “At least answer me!” I said, louder this time. My voice only cracked a little this time but hurt doubly. Again, the person ignored me and continued on in silence, the cart jerking as we hit a bump. As we rode along on the bumpy little cart, bits of brilliant light shone through the trees above, setting the cart sparkling with a hundred little light dots. As I watched them, I felt better, less dizzy. They calmed me somehow as they flashed over the cart and the mysterious pilot. Looking up into the midday sky, I could see little bits of blue and fluffy white clouds. Then coming out of my daze, I turned my attention back to the driver.

      “Sir,” I said, reaching out and putting my hand on their shoulder. Though what I felt wasn’t a man’s shoulder. It was thinner and less muscled than any man’s. They turned back and looked at me, gazing through a veil of darkness over their face. Bright blue eyes shone through the dark void inside the hood. Yelping, I lurched back. All the woods had gone quiet. The birds and the frogs, the trickling of the streams, even the rustle of the breeze. I was deaf to it all as I remembered the evil blue eyes of the Groclin Knight. Flopping back, I rolled from the cart, slamming hard into the ground. Rising shakily, I got to my feet and stumbled away, back the way we’d just traveled. The road was a dark brown, feeling soft under my sure feet, making me feel stronger and more sure of myself.

      I looked back at the wagon to see the creature still looking back at me. Turning, I was about to run when I froze. Ahead of me was the same figure. Only now standing in the middle of the road, the blue eyes gleaming from under the hood. I stood there silent, unable to believe my eyes. They weren’t but ten feet from me when I’d just seen them on the wagon a millisecond ago. Looking back, the wagon and mules were gone, vanished to thin air. Swinging my gaze back around, I found myself face to face with the hooded person thing. Only now the veil of darkness was gone and the eyes no longer shone blue. It was a young woman, no older than twenty. Her face was fair and pure, unmarred by the acne that still left small red dots on my forehead. Her eyes were large and soft, a light brown in color. Long brown hair flowed down from out of the hood and onto her chest.

      I was completely taken aback. She was so beautiful, but she terrified me at the same time. Her magic tricks had earned her that. And now she stood, not ten feet, but only a foot from me. Jumping, I stumbled back. Reaching out, her cloak parted and the same gauntlet I’d seen on the Groclin Knight reached out and gripped the front of my tattered deer vest, the remnants of the yellow daisy still hanging from my pocket. Her size and stature hid her strength well and she pulled me firmly back to my feet. Stunned, I just gazed into her eyes, mine, I was sure, were wide and frightened, the same as I was feeling.  Then she smiled. It was gentle and kind, like my mother used to smile when I awoke in the night, to reassure me that the nightmare I’d just had was locked away in my mind, where not but I could get to it, even as scary as it had been, it could not reach me bodily.

      “Come now Sike, we must be on our way,” she said gently, pushing me to a sitting position. Looking down, I found that I was again on the cart, only now on the driver’s bench. Looking up, I found I was again facing down the road, the girl beside me.

      “How in the Light?!” I said, suddenly dizzy. I grabbed onto the edge of the wooden seat to steady myself until I calmed enough to think straight, “How did you do that?” I asked in as calm a voice I could muster. My throat was still sore, but my voice sounded better.

      “It’s best we wait until we get to the inn to talk,” the mysterious hooded girl replied, her face hidden by the folds of the crimson cloth hood. And so we rode on, without speaking for the entire day. We rode through a beautiful forest, like none I’d ever seen. It was dense and green, with sparkling streams running beside the road before wandering off into the brush. Does and their fawns could be seen hopping as deer do over bushes and into the shadows. The sounds of the bugs and birds above made me feel that the forest itself was alive and one huge, living, breathing creature. The breeze ran through my hair, almost playing with it, tossing it about and tickling my ears. I looked down at my hands and found that my stump of a wrist had been cleaned and was now wrapped in a bright white bandage, almost blending into the sleeve of my white cotton shirt. Which I noted was no longer stained with dirt and grime from my journey from the burned village. Stunned, my eyes wandered over the rest of my clothes. My deer hide pants were clean and neat again, the rips I’d attained were no more and not a stitch mark could be seen in their place. And my vest was once again a beautiful oiled leather, like it had been when I first got it as my tenth birthday gift. The flower though, was the shocker. As the little daisy had hung limply a second ago, battered and dirty, it had been revived, and now stood in my pocket as if it had just been placed there. In awe, I turned back to the girl and was about to open my mouth when the pulled on the reins to stop the horses.

      I’d been to preoccupied looking at my clothes that I hadn’t noticed a small inn off the side of the trail. In the front were tied four or five horses, their saddles laid over the hitching posts they were tethered to. It was here we’d stopped and the girl jumped from the wagon and unhitched the mules with expert speed. Quickly, I jumped down, almost forgetting my manners. I helped lead the animals over to an empty post next to a water trough and picked an old straw brush from a pail and began brushing the animals down as the girl pulled one of the flour sacks from the back of the wagon. Almost the second I finished brushing the animals down, the girl grabbed my arm and yanked me over to the wagon.

      “Grab a sac or two and help me carry them inside,” he said, not looking at me. Reaching out, she picked a sac up and handed it to me. Then picking up her own, she walked to the door of the two story cabin. It seemed to have been build a lot like my house, with clay plugging the holes in between the wood. It had a deck running the front of the place, about four feet from the ground with a rail along it and crooked steps leading up. Scooping up another sac, I followed the hooded girl up to the door where it seemed to open for her of it’s own accord.
     
      Stepping inside, I saw that there were a few unsavory looking characters sitting around a table and a young minstrel standing on a stool strumming a lute. The place was dimly lit by a candle on each of the three tables and a fire burning in a mantle at the back of the room. Some stairs lay off to the right of the fireplace leading to the rooms I guessed. Along the left wall was a bar with several clean mugs setting upside down on it’s polished surface. A closed door was behind that, leading I guessed to the kitchen and a storage room. The left wall had a single window, but was blocked out completely. Ignoring the withering looks from the five goons sitting at the table, the girl walked up to the bar and laid the sac down gently. Coming up after she stepped to the side, I did the same.

      Turning to face her, I saw she was watching the young man strumming the little guitar looking instrument. So, I too looked to hit. He was singing a song about a hero who challenged one of the Spirit Knights, his words were slow and ghostly, resonating through the room,

    And so the hero fell to the dust
    Beneath the broken sky
    And so reached down the Darkness and Light
    And smote a mighty blow

    Across the dust the blood was slung
    Across by the slashing sword
    The hand fell to the dust
    An arm it had no more

    This unholy creature
    Spawn from dark
    Went on his way
    Unto this hero’s farm

    Burning and killing all the way he went
    The man, this creature
    It made it’s way
    Up along the mountain
    Across rocky terrain

    Until he came upon a cottage
    Empty of all men
    So angered was he
    He destroyed the house with one might blow


    And off he went in search of more
    To plunder and kill

    I was shocked. He sang what had not transpired but a day before. How did he know these details of the destruction? Turning to the girl I opened my mouth to speak.

      “We are Spirit Catchers,” she said, cutting me off before I could speak, “we know what is as it is, nothing escapes out sight,” She turned to me with a grim look upon her face, “Unfortunately, we are not but apprentices, sent to retrieve you,” I was completely confused now.

      “What is Light is a Spirit Catcher? And why do you want to retrieve me?!” I said, a little louder than I intended to.

      “Shhh,” she said, putting her finger to her lips, “not here, I’ll tell you in the room,” she put her hand down and turned back to the young man who was now making his way past the tables over to us.

      “Howdy ho hero!” he said merrily, slapping me on the shoulder and smiling broadly, “What did you think of my song?” he asked.

      “It was good,” I said, not returning his warmth.
     
      “Oh lighten up Sike!” he said, still happily unaware of how upset the song had made me, “your family is fine! And best of all, you’re with us!” he released my shoulder and laid his lute on the bar. Knocking loudly on the surface to summon the bar keep.

      The man was huge. He was at least seven feet tall and had to duck under the doorframe as he entered from the back rooms. I tried to hide my surprise but did a very poor job of it because he smiled at me.

      “No worried boy,” he said, “I’m a gentle giant,” he broke into a grin and laughed heartily. The minstrel joined in on the laugh and filled the inn with the hearty joy they were sharing.

      “Bert! I’d like you to meet Sike Cott!” said the minstrel brightly after they’d bother calmed their laughter, “Sike, this is Bert, he’s one of me best buddies, he’s me uncle,” I nodded nervously to him and almost held out my right hand to shake hands but stopped myself, remembering the stump of my arm. Bert just nodded.

      “Ahh, so you’re the one Andrew here just sung about,” he said grimly, the grin dropping slightly, “Well, there could be worse you know, you could still be lying there in the dust, dying,” he said reassuringly, reaching over the bar and patting my shoulder sympathetically with one of his massive hands. I couldn’t see him very well in the light, but I could see he was tall and fit, with a bald head and a kind gentle face. He wore a white apron over a brown shirt and I could just see the hilt of a hunting knife protruding from his belt.

      “Which room can we have?” asked the girl, cutting into the small silence.

      “Oh, uhhh,” Bert mumbled to himself, “Rhoda! Which room is open?” he suddenly yelled, turning his head slightly to the kitchen door.

      “The end room!” I heard a woman yell grumpily. She was obviously in a bad mood.

      “Ahh, the end room. Oh! And that’s me wife Rhoda,” he said happily, “She the cook, but she’s in a bit of a bad mood because I forgot to pick up flour at the market yesterday,” he looked down, it was overly obvious he felt bad about it.

      “No need to worry,” said the girl, “We brought our payment for a stay,” she motioned at the sacs sitting at the other end of the bar. I looked back to Bert to see he had his huge grin back.

      “You’ve gotta be the most thoughtful girl in the world!” he bellowed, leaning over the bar and hugging the girl tightly. She squirmed in his grip until he let go.

      “You don’t have to crush me for it you know,” she said grumpily, brushing crumbs that must have come off his apron off of her shoulder, “Come on Sike, Andrew,” she said, motioning for us to follow. I waved goodbye to Bert who waved enthusiastically back and we proceeded up the stairs. We were met by a long hallway with four doors on each side. The walls looked to be some kind of yellowish plaster, and the doors were the same dark wood as the rough floor.  At the end of the hall was another door, slightly larger than the others. On it’s surface was carved in neat curly letters, ‘Order’ Quickly, the girl walked down the hall, followed by me and Andrew until we came to the door. And like the door to the front of the inn, it swung open to greet her. Perturbed, I followed her into the brightly lit room.

      “It was slightly larger than the kitchen had been in my house, with strong log walls and two beds along the left wall. Across from us was a full glass wall looking out off of a cliff. Down below I could see the forest canopy, thicker looking from above. I was shocked to see the huge drop when I hadn’t seen anything to hint there was this huge a cliff nearby. Looking to the right wall, there were two old chairs set around a mantle with a fire made and ready to be lit already sitting there. In the center of the room was a small table with three chairs around it, a pitcher of something stood in the center next to a small pyramid of cups.

      The girl took her cloak off and flung it to the bed. Underneath she wore a rough white cotton shirt tucked into leather pants with a belt securing them up. I looked back to Andrew who wore a fluffy white shirt like I’d seen the gypsies wear with some white leather chaps that were speckled with black dots. On his head was a puffy blue had with a huge red plume of a feather sticking out of it’s band. Having not seen him well in the dim bar, I almost laughed.

      “Aight’ now, no need for that,” he said, smiling at me, “I know I look funny, but watch this,” he grinned and spun around. The clothes were instantly replaced by the same clothes as I wore, accurate right down to the daisy in my vest pocket. I stepped back, my eyes widening in amazement.

      “Andrew!” the girl snapped at him, “stop showing off and sit down!” she pointed at a chair. Slouching over, Andrew trudged over to the indicated chair and flopped down with an exasperated sigh, “Sike, please take a seat,” she said, looking at me. She said it so gently and kindly compared how she spoke to her partner. Nodding, I stepped over and sat down on the chair opposite Andrew. Finally the girl sat down and picked up the top cup, turning it right side up, she handed it to me. I took it and was about to reach for the jug when I realized the cup was full of water. Again I was surprised by their tricks.

      “How do you keep doing,” I started, but Andrew shushed me.

      “Okay, we’ve got a lot to explain and not a lot of time,” he said, suddenly serious, “so let’s get started. My name is Andrew, this is Ally Wieler, she’s my sister,” he motioned at who I now knew as Ally, “We are part of an order know as The Order of the Soul Catchers, we were recruited by the Light,” I held up my hand but he continued, “Yes, the Light, it does exist. Anyway, we were recruited to help gather the reluctant souls, the ones that don’t want to pass into the light when people die. As a reward for our services, we are promised the ability to warp things that are. That’s how I changed my clothes, that’s how she filled that cup.” he stopped to take a breath.

      “The Light told us that there was a new soul in need of rescue, only for this one, we were to try to recruit into our ranks,” said Ally, picking up where Andrew left off, “that’s why we came to find you.  We are supposed to convince you to join us,” I interrupted her by holding up my hand,

      “So you need me to help gather souls?” I asked.

      “No, the mission of the Soul Catchers has become much more since the Dark War. We are to fight the Dark,” Replied Alli.

      “The Dark was once one of the Soul Catchers, but he was corrupted by power. He saw nothing wrong in taking good souls and using them for his own deeds. He soon became so obsessed with the use of innocent or misguided souls that he was thrust from the Order by the Light itself. He had learned of all the secrets however and began recruiting the weak minded into his appointment. They became know as Shadow Wraiths, or Shadow Knights as many of them are called by the unknowing,” Andrew explained, pausing to take a breath.

      “So, now you guys, the Soul Catchers, are trying to beat them?” I asked, still confused.

      “In all simplicity, yes,” replied Ally, nodding grimly.

      “And why do you need my help?” I asked.

      “Because the Light says we need your help,” said Andrew matter-of-factly. I stood up and began pacing the room. From one end to the other, unsure of what to make of all of this. My mind was overloaded and I was confused, angry, and curious at the same time.

      “We don’t expect you to decide in a second,” said Ally kindly, “Sleep on it and maybe you’ll have an answer by morning,” I looked to her and she smiled warmly at me. My eyes traveled down her arm and to the metal gauntlet on her arm. It was clawed and looked identical, if not smaller than, the one the Shadow Wraith had worn at Crater.

      “How did that Shadow Knight get one of those gauntlets?” I asked indicating the metal glove on her forearm with a nod.

      “The Dark began creating them, based off of the one he stole from the Order. They are given to those who have committed themselves,” She replied, holding it up.

      “Why doesn’t he have one?” I asked pointing to Andrew.

      “Well I can’t very well wear it when I’m playing mate!” he said, “I’d cut the strings of me lute off,” He smiled and flicked his arm, making the metal gauntlet appear from nowhere. Yet again, I jumped as reality changed to accommodate the new item.

      “And I’ll learn to do all of that?” I asked skeptically.

      “Yep,” Andrew replied, nodding enthusiastically. I grimaced. This was amazing. I had been but a farm boy not a day ago, and now I was being offered the privilege of joining an elite group of reality warping warriors fighting against The Dark. My head spinning, I sat on the edge of the bed. I was tired. I felt as if I hadn’t had a good sleep in a long while, that, combined the with fact that the sun was sinking fast and all the shadows stretched across the room made me yawn.

      “I’ll have an answer in the morning, but for now, where can I sleep?” I asked them, stifling another yawn. Andrew smiled and motioned to the bed.

      “Ally’s got a room down the hall, you and me are bunkmates tonight, take either bed you want,” He got up out of his chair and walked over to the door. Opening it, he made an exaggerated flourish with his arm for Ally to leave. Glaring at her brother, she scooped up her cloak and left the room. Andrew closed the door, but before I heard the click of the lock, I was asleep.


                                    Chaper 3.
                A Tiger’s Claw and a Crimson Cloak


      I awoke with the sun shining in the window, glaring brightly onto my face. I opened my eyes to a new day and yawned. Sitting up, I plopped my legs over the side of the bed and stood in between mine and Andrew’s beds. He was still sound asleep, snoring lightly. I walked over to the table and sat down across from the fireplace. I sat there watching the little teepee of wood for almost a half an hour before I head a light tap. Snapping out of my daze I looked to the door. Standing there was Ally. She wore the same clothes I’d seen her wearing when she left the room last night. She walked across the short span to the table and sat down in the wooden chair next to me.

      “Well,” she said softly, “have you decided?”

      ‘My,’ I thought, ‘she gets straight to the point.’ I nodded slightly and she leaned forward a little.

      “And?” she questioned.

      “I’ll join your little club,” I said softly to avoid waking Andrew. Ally smiled at me.

      “I knew you’d come around,” she said. Lifting her arm from under the table, she pulled a dark crimson cloak from her lap. At first I assumed it was her’s but she held the folded cloth out to me. Raising my eyebrows, I took it and stood up, letting it fall open. It was soft and light, like silk, yet it did not shine or have a tint like silk. Swirling it about, I clasped it onto my back and pulled the hood up over my head, letting it drape around my body to conceal me completely.

      “Beautiful,” I said, thoroughly impressed.

      “Oh, and you get this too,” she said, holding up a gauntlet, exactly like the one she wore. Grinning, I took it with my good hand and laid it on the table. I was about to slip my hand into it when Ally stopped me, “Your other arm,” she said, releasing her death grip on my forearm. Skeptically, I held it up and slid it onto the stump on my arm. Immediately, I had feeling in my hand again. Shocked, I moved my fingers. The metal plating of the glove moved and I balled my new metal fingers into a fist.

      “Amazing,” I said, turning my hand around to look at the clawed glove. I looked to Ally who was also smiling, “So, when do I start?” I asked.

      “Whenever lazy bones wakes up,” she said, motioning at her brother who gave a snort and rolled over. He was thoroughly mummified by the sheets and I wasn’t sure how he wasn’t being suffocated.

      I sat at the table for almost half an hour in silence, staring at the shiny silver hand on my right wrist. I moved it in all kinds of positions and even managed to pick up a cup and drink from it with my new hand. I was so thrilled I wouldn’t have to spend my life as a cripple. Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by Andrew snorting and rolling out of bed. He thumped to the floor and I turned around to look at him. I was yet again shocked to see another example of their power. The sheets that seemed to have been binding him, melted and ran off of him like mercury, solidifying back into sheets underneath him. Rolling back, he threw himself to his feet and looked up at Ally and me. His eyes widened as he saw me in my red cloak and clawed gauntlet.

      “So you’re gonna join us!” he said loudly, picking his shirt up off the nightstand and throwing it over his arms. He simply pressed the hem with the buttons together and it seemed to button itself, removing the task of buttoning his shirt.

      “Really?” I said, looking sarcastically at Andrew, “You had to do that?” he smiled and held his hand up. Silver streams of a glistening substance ran from his sleeve to coat his hand in the shiny silver gauntlet, the same as I wore now, “Well, I guess your training starts today!” he said merrily and almost skipped out the door, leaving the sheets to slither back onto the bed where they laid out perfectly. Shaking her head, Ally followed her brother out the door, and I followed her, closing the heavy wooden door behind me, getting one last glimpse out of the giant window wall.

      We filed down the stairs and into the bar of the inn. One of the goons we’d seen the night before was slumped over in his chair, his mug of ale still in his hand. Andrew scoffed at him and walked by, disgusted by the man. I smiled at his displeasure and said, “What? You don’t like a drunk man?” Andrew just glowered at me. We passed the bar where we heard Bert and Rhoda talking in the back. But we continued without stopping out onto the porch.

      Ahead of us was the road, the horses and mules were still tethered and sleeping soundly. To my right were a series of rocking chairs, all in a row. To my left was a wooden bench. Around it’s legs were scattered light tan wood shavings, as if someone had been whittling there in the recent past. But we walked by all of this and onto the dirt road. Turning to the right, we began walking in the direction we were traveling the day before. After almost an hour’s walk, the two ahead of me stopped and stepped off of the road and into the forest. We walked along a short trail and into a little clearing where a lean-to was nestled against the opposite side and a small campfire was build in the middle. Some logs sat around the stone fire right, giving it the appearance of a traditional campsite. All around the clearing though was briars, brush and trees. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to run through that.

      Ally led me over to one of the logs and sat me down while Andrew went to the little wooden, open ended, hut. Ally sat down across the fire ring from me and motioned at the sticks that were set up in a pyramid with dry leaves bunched around them.

      “Your lessons begin with fire,” she started, “Fire is the easiest thing to create and control, the hardest is living, thinking, soul. But right now we’ll focus on fire. It’s not about a spark, it’s not about the kindling, or even what you want to burn, no, it’s about heat,” she finished by motioning again at the sticks. Instantly, they burst into bright flame. Holding her hand out, she picked some of it up out of the center and held it in her hand as the rest of the fire dies away, leaving the sticks and leaves in the exact same condition they’d been before she lit them on fire. I looked amazedly at the fire that seemed to feed off of her hand, it looked like it would burn her, but she held it calmly. Slowly she closed her hand around it until it went out, “You will focus on heat, that is all that is required,” she said, “sit here and focus, focus everything you’ve got, and then more,” It doesn’t matter where it starts, just start fire,” at that, she stood and walked to the lean-to, leaving me to puzzle over what she’d said. I frowned at the sticks. There was no way I could do this with those instructions. Focus, phah!

      But even through my disbelief, I sat there for the entire day, not moving at all, focusing on heat. I had no idea how to focus on heat, so I just imagined the heat rising from rocks on the mountain in midday. When the sun was about to go down, Andrew walked up behind me and placed a leaf in front of me. It was a normal green oak leaf like you’d pick from a tree, nothing special.

      “I know Ally’s not the best teacher,” he whispered, “But I’ll tell you what to do, focus on that rock. Clear your mind completely until all you can see is the rock. Pick it up and hold it in your hand, then focus on the feel of the smooth stone, once you can do that, then work on the fire,” and at that, he turned around and left. Sighing, I looked at the rock and found it incredibly easy to concentrate on. Soon, after about two hours, all I could think about was the rock, all I could see was the rock. It felt so weird to focus on something for so long that that was all I could think about.

      Slowly, I reached out and picked up the stone in my left hand, rubbing my thumb over it’s smooth cool surface. Feeling every lump and every pore in it. It felt so relaxing to focus on only one thing, I felt completely pure, I could no longer feel the ground beneath me or hear the sound of the night creatures around. All I could see and feel was this one little rock. Opening my eyes, I looked at the little smooth pebble and thought heat. Suddenly, the image of the rock in my mind was replaced by fire, even though I hadn’t thought of it, it sprang forth from my consciousness and was there.

      The stone I held suddenly burst into bright flame. Lighting the entire clearing. Though it had startled me, I didn’t move, I didn’t even twitch. I was so far in the zone that this was nothing. Looking to the sticks, I again thought of the heat from the rocks and they too burst into flame. Grinning excitedly, I stood, holding the still cool, but flaming stone in my hand. Turning to face the lean-to I saw Ally stumble out, a look of shock and amazement on her face. Jogging over, she looked down at the rock and the burning pile of sticks.

      “I can’t believe it,” she said, almost in a whisper, “How did you do it?” she looked from the rock up at my face.

      “I just followed instructions,” I said smiling at her.

      “Now put it out,” she said, her smile dying a little. Looking back to the fire in the pit, the image of water came to mind and the fire was doused with a  sizzle. Closing my hand around the stone, I did the same for it. Ally and I were plunged into darkness. Looking around, I thought it strange that everything was clearly visible. Ally’s expression, the lean-to, and the trees off of the clearing. I felt Ally touch I shoulder and I looked back. Suddenly I felt as if I’d just been dropped and I found us to be in Andrew and my room back at the inn.

      “Get some sleep,” Ally said, “You’ve got a lot to do tomorrow,” and she vanished. My heart was beating so hard that I didn’t see how I could sleep, but as soon as my head hit the soft wool of the pillow, I was out. The last thing I remember is the soft snoring Andrew was making and thinking, ‘Man, he can sleep through anything,’




Im going to read this tomorrow if that is ok.

You got anybody else that likes writing?

Eh, not really. I've only seen one other writer on any of the forums I'm on and she's a *jerk* if you know what I mean. . .