The Last Battle: Part 6, Draft 1

This is, again, half a section. It's starting to drive me nuts and I haven't posted anything in a while, so up it goes. Hopefully starting the next part with a clean slate (to a degree) will help me feel more inspired and less disenchanted and blocked. I want to have a short conversation between Brenn and Kata, a brief moment of connection. But I honestly have no idea what they would talk about.

Comments welcome, as usual.


The Great Feast ran long into the night, so Kata had no trouble sleeping once she finally turned in. After the Feast, there were a few uneventful days to allow the knights time to recover before the Sending. As a rule, knights who had helped prepare for the Feast did not assist with the cleanup, but Kata would still pitch in from time to time. Her need to be busy seemed less desperate now that the Great Feast had passed. Whenever she felt anticipation for the Sending start to build, she just went out riding for a while. Besides, she didn't have much longer to wait.

It was the evening before the Sending when Kata had a visit from Cinnet. Kata had long felt that Cinnet did not like her, though she was never sure why. Of course, Cinnet was never known for being warm and friendly. Still, Kata felt he seemed especially irritable when his business required him to deal with her.

"Her Majesty," Cinnet began, reading from a scroll he had probably written only minutes ago, "wishes your presence for the Welcoming of the Dragon prior to the Sending of the Knights. Your response is requested upon receipt of this invitation."

Cinnet looked up from the scroll expectantly.

"Tell Her Majesty that I would be happy to attend," Kata answered. Cinnet gave a curt nod and returned to the scroll.

"The Welcoming of the Dragon shall take place at the second bell after sunrise on the palace grounds behind the western tower. Formal attire or armor is required. Please review and observe all standard rules of conduct for interactions with a dragon."

Cinnet quickly rolled the scroll back up and snapped a ribbon around it before handing it to Kata.

"And don't be late!" he added. He turned his back to her and left the knight's quarters.

Kata just smiled as he left. There were times when Cinnet's attitude bothered her, but his surliness couldn't darken her mood now. Though she still awaited the Sending eagerly, being present to welcome the dragon for the ceremony was a great honor and very exciting in its own right. Kata checked with the armory smiths to make certain her armor would be ready first thing in the morning. Once that was settled, she retired early with thoughts of flying dragons and riding to the border swirling in her head.


Kata was delighted to see that Cinnet hadn't even arrived when she reached the back of the western tower. Only Cyra was there already. She was engrossed in scanning the skies above and didn't even notice Kata until she was quite close.

"Sorry," Cyra said as she greeted her friend. "I get kind of single minded when a dragon's coming."

"Do you know who it's going to be?" asked Kata. Cyra shook her head.

"They surprise me. It's usually someone I've met before, but sometimes it isn't."

"Who else is going to be joining us?"

"Well, Cinnet, of course. Sir Argonios will be represent the Knights' Council. And the Suto Teg priest will be here. This one just arrived, so I doubt you've met him."

Kata had not, though it didn't surprise that a Suto Teg priest would be in attendance. The Suto Teg were commonly thought of as "dragon worshippers", though Kata had been told that was oversimplifying things. Their faith held that dragons were the highest form of life and unknowing representatives of the divine powers. They also held Cyra in high regard beyond her status as queen, claiming that she was the reincarnation of no less than nine dragons. Suto Teg was often guessed to be the faith that Cyra herself followed, though Cyra had never publicly said anything to confirm or deny it. Officially, all religions were held in equal favor and Cyra kept a representative from each at the palace. Personally, Kata had her doubts about Cyra being a Suto Teg follower. She didn't think the queen was the type to follow a religion that looked on creatures she considered friends and family as saints.

The tower door creaked open and Cinnet bustled out. He held the door open as Sir Argonios and the Suto Teg priest came through. Sir Argonios came down the tower stairs first, followed by the priest with Cinnet and a armload of scrolls bringing up the rear.

Sir Argonios was one of the Southverden beastmen. In many other countries, they would have divided themselves into various subspecies: wolfmen and minotaurs and the like. But the beastmen of Sathyriel didn't make much of such distinctions, so very few of them looked like any one animal. Argonios had a face that suggested a canine ancestry. He was tall and lanky and moved with the easy grace most beastmen seemed to posses. Kata noted that he had chosen formal attire over full armor; a wise choice since council members did not leave at the Sending. He soon reached the spot where Cyra and Kata stood awaiting the dragon's arrival. He saluted Kata, who did the same for him. To Cyra, he lifted his head so he looked up towards the sky, then bowed in a deep salute. Kata had been told the first gesture was a sign of respect and trust, displaying the unprotected throat to a superior.

The priest came hurrying along in Argonios's wake. He was young; probably;y no older than Kata. He looked like most of the priests of his order: mottled blue robes, long hair tied back, bare feet. He was looking up at the sky as he came towards them and he tripped more than once. He was clearly excited and perhaps a little nervous. Even at the castle, with the dragon's home so nearby, a visiting dragon was not an everyday occurrence. As the resident Suto Teg priest, he would be responsible for recording the event and representing the faith to the dragon. He bowed before Cyra, elbows bent and fingers splayed. Cyra nodded in acknowledgement. The priest turned back to the skies, scanning for any sign of movement.

Cinnet arrived last, eyeing the assembled group suspiciously for anything improper. When he had decided that everything was up to his standards, he pulled a quill and a fresh scroll from his bag to start the official record of the dragon's arrival. They all talked a little about the upcoming sending and goings-on around the castle. Mostly, though, they looked up at the morning sky.

"There!" the Suto Teg priest cried suddenly. He pointed up and away from the castle, roughly in the direction of Mount Kel. Cyra took a step forward, squinting up at the sky where the priest pointed. Kata kept glancing at the sky, then Cyra, then back again, hoping for either confirmation from the queen or to see what had caught the priest's attention. At last, she caught sight of it. At first, it was almost nothing, an impossibly tiny dot in the sky. As it came a little closer, Kata could make out its dark blue coloring, more visible against the white cloud than the sky itself. The tiny speck grew larger and Kata could start to make out the long, slender shape and the arcing wings. Faster and faster it came closer in a wide circle around the castle grounds.

Kata snuck a quick look at Cyra again. The queen was grinning up at the approaching dragon with all the excitement of the Suto Teg priest and none of the nervousness.

"Is it someone you know?" Kata asked.

Cyra nodded vigorously. "It's my brother!"

The dragon was now almost directly overhead, though still high above them. He soared effortlessly above the high tower and out towards the field. Cyra, her face bright with joy, broke suddenly into a run and took off after the dragon. As he neared the end of the field, the dragon turned sharply, dropping closer to the ground as he did. He let out a long, thunderous roar that rose suddenly into a short high trill. Cyra answered the call with something that sounded remarkably similar, though much softer. The dragon skimmed low over the field as Cyra rushed to meet him. As she watched them speed towards each other, Kata grew a little nervous. The dragon seemed to be slowing his approach a little, but maybe not enough. Kata doubted the dragon intended to hurt Cyra, but might he accidentally crash into her?

The dragon's wings spread wide as Cyra bounded towards him. Without fully stopping, he caught the queen between his massive forepaws. Carrying Cyra, he flew up a short distance, then fell backwards, landing on his back with Cyra cradled safely on his stomach.

Argonios laughed aloud and Kata hid a small chuckle. The Suto Teg priest stared at the pair in wonder, scribbled rapid notes on his scroll, then stared again. Cinnet looked ill and turned a very pale color as the dragon began playfully tossing Cyra up into the air. He slowly began to write something, then crossed it out. He repeated this several times before putting the quill away to massage his forehead.

Cyra slid off her dragon brother's stomach and back to the ground. He carefully righted himself and crouched down so Cyra could climb onto his back. Once she managed to scramble up, he rose and began walking slowly towards the small audience.

Kata watched the two so closely that she was a little startled when Argonios tapped her one the arm. He had knelt down next to her, bringing his great height closer to her level.

"She really does look like one of them," he said quietly.

"What do you mean?"

Argonios waved a paw towards queen and dragon.

"Well, looks at them. Their faces."

It took a moment longer for Kata to see what Argonios's shap eyes had already spotted. The dragon's lips were pulled back from his teeth and his tongue hung out slightly, a sign of happy weariness from his exuberant greeting. Kata looked up to where Cyra was sitting and saw almost the same face, exposed teeth and panting tongue.

"You're right," Kata said after a while. It made sense of course. Cyra would have picked up dragon mannerisms before she learned human ones. But it wasn't something Kata would have though of if she hadn't seen it. Strange, that this panting grimace might seem more natural to the queen than a questioning raised eyebrow or other more human expressions.

The dragon strode closer and Kata could hear Cyra conversing with her brother. Kata had tried on occasion to learn Rannak, the language of deep growls that served as a bridge of communication with the dragons. It was not easy; the Suto Teg themselves would spend decades learning its subtleties. For Cyra, of course, it came quite naturally. Kata wondered to herself whether Cyra's thoughts were in human or dragon tongue.

Cyra slid easily off of the dragon's back and returned to the ground. It seemed like a long distance to jump, but Kata imagined the queen was well practiced at it. She remained close to her brother, one hand resting on his right foreleg.

"This is my brother, Brenn," Cyra announced. Kata and the others bowed and saluted. The Suto Teg priest performed the same respectful gesture he had for Cyra.

Cyra and Brenn both turned to Sir Argonios and Cyra growled out what was likely an introduction of the knight. Argonios bowed again. Brenn lowered his head and puffed heated air from both of his nostrils. Cyra had once explained to Kata that this was a respectful greeting among dragons. Argonios looked a little surprised at having his fur ruffled by warm dragon breath, but he kept his composure like a good knight.

The Last Battle: Part 5, Draft 1

This took a while. The first half was an absolute pain to write; two very lengthy stops before I got it done. But it's done now and the second half actually flowed pretty decently. I did take Brogan's name and a few of his character traits from Brogal in "Sea of Unicorns", mostly out of laziness. All names are subject to change, except probably Rayna's.

I don't know when I'll be getting to the next segment. It's tough when I feel like I'm working my way through stuff that's tedious to write in order to get to what I do find exciting. I have been toying with the idea of just writing the next part of Apex 1, but I feel like that's going to reveal too much of what I haven't written yet. Likely you can guess most of what's happening in Apex 1 by now, but there's still a few details I want to hold onto for now.

So how do you think it's going? How do you like the new characters? I'm a little worried that because I wrote the first big scene before anything else, you, dear reader, may not feel particularly attached to Rayna knowing that she's going to die.

Any thoughts? Please?


"Lady Kataya!"

Kata turned around to see who was calling to her so formally. She smiled as she caught sight of the young squire turned knight coming towards her. Kata pressed her fist against her palm in salute. She seldom did this for fellow knights who weren't of a higher rank, but she knew the newest knights were eager to be acknowledged like this.

"Lady Rayna," Kata replied.

Rayna's face lit up and she slumped forward as if Kata had just taken something very heavy from her.

"Finally!" she said. "Everyone else I talked to today called me 'Princess' until I reminded them."

Kata motioned to the seat next to her and Cyra's only child took it. Like most of the newly dubbed knights, Rayna was still wearing her ceremonial garments. These were intended only for special occasions and were of much finer material than the knight's casual attire. Rayna's family crest - the famous white dragon on a blue field - was displayed on the chest.

"I'd nearly forgotten that you would be in the ceremony today," Kata mentioned. It was true. Kata had been quite caught up in preparations for the Great Feast. And it was hard to believe that Rayna was already seventeen. Kata wondered if Cyra was just as surprised by the swift passage of time.

"Your mother must be proud," she added, searching for some hint at Cyra's mood.

Rayna shrugged. "I guess so. She didn't say anything and she left right after the ceremony."

"That's hoe she is at the ceremony." Kata leaned back casually. "She probably didn't want to look like she was treating you any different in front of the other knights. I'm sure she'll let you know how she feels later."

Rayna just nodded in response, but she did look a little more at ease.

"So who are you traveling with?" asked Kata.

"Lady Micanna and Sir Davran. Do you know them?"

"Ah, Dav!" Kata grinned. "He and I were dubbed the same year and we traveled together a couple times. He's about the finest tracker I ever knew and just amazing with a bow and arrow. Could just about take an apple off a tree without hitting a single leaf. Oh, and he's just as good with a story. Ask him to tell you about the helmet and the merchant sometime."

"What about Lady Micanna?"

Kata leaned forward and rubbed her chin with one finger.

"I've never known Micanna particularly well, but of course I know of her. You know she fought in the Independence War?"

"She did?" Rayna looked genuinely incredulous.

"She did. There weren't any age restrictions on fighters back then. Your mother was pretty young herself, so there wasn't much she could do to keep anyone who could hold there own from joining up. Micanna couldn't have been much more than fourteen. She's seen more battles than most. Probably could be a general by now, but I hear she prefers fighting to strategizing. People say she's quiet, not likely to talk about much but the mission at hand. But she's good and I'm sure you'll learn a lot from her."

Kata and Rayna sat in silence for a while. Kata was hoping she hadn't killed the young knight's enthusiasm too soon. Still, Rayna had to understand that being a knight was not easy. Even in her first months, she could well see a border skirmish, or worse even. Better she be a little less excited than unprepared for the work and learning ahead.

Rayna turned as several people called her name. A group of young knights was walking by the table, smiling and waving. Rayna waved back and started to get up. Halfway through leaving her seat, she turned back to Kata apologetically.

"Go ahead." Kata waved her on. "You may not run into them again for a while."

Rayna grinned, saluted the other knight, and ran off to join her friends.

"Feel like an old veteran yet?"

Kata whirled around to hug the stocky dwarf who had snuck up behind her. Brogan laughed, pushing Kata to arm's length to look at her like a proud parent.

"I didn't even know you were back," Kata exclaimed. "How come I haven't seen you at all?"

"Just arrived a few days ago," answered Brogan. "I spent most of the winter with the family and I know how crazy this place is right before Sending. So I've been at the inn. But I couldn't miss paying you a visit, now could I?"

"Of course not." Kata slid over as Brogan pulled himself up onto the bench beside her. He waved a server over to request a drink, then looked out into the crowds at the group of young knights making their way to the dunking booth.

"So," he said quietly. "Cyra's girl's a knight now."

Kata nodded. "I saw Cyra just a few days ago and she didn't say a word about it."

"I'd guess she's not ready to," Brogan replied. "Doubt the girl's been very far from home for man than a few days before now. The queen has some hard times coming, getting used to her daughter being gone."

Kata hadn't really though of this. It was so easy to get caught up in the excitement of the young knights, especially with the ceremony and the feast. But every Sending meant someone was being left behind. Cyra had certainly seen enough of this, but was she ready to go through it herself?

"Still, I think it will be good for Rayna." Kata looked in the direction that Rayna and her friends had gone, but they were no longer in sight.

"Oh aye," Brogan agreed. "Already has been, likely. She gets to be with people around her age. And it'll be good for her to get out and see what the world's like."

Brogan's drink arrived. He took a long swig and wiped at his beard and mustache with his arm.

"And if she does well enough," he added. "and starts making a name of her own, it might take care of all those questions."

The questions were those surrounding Rayna's parentage. Cyra had never been married, as far as anyone knew. There were rumors of lovers lost to the battlefield, but none had anything more than hearsay to back them up. Of greater to concern to anyone who troubled themselves with the question of Rayna's heritage was the lack of resemblance between mother and daughter. Cyra was small and pale skinned with near white hair. Rayna had dark hair with a tanned complexion, and she'd been taller than her mother for years. That, added to the fact that Rayna's age meant Cyra would have been a rather young mother, had given birth to countless tales. Rayna was said to be a war orphan, a creation of magic, the legitimate daughter of a queen who had turned pale from various traumas, and everything in between. Neither Rayna nor her mother ever said a word about the circumstances of Rayna's birth, even to close friends. But Kata knew it pained both women to see the knowing looks and hear the whispers of rumors every time Rayna did anything that marked her as the slightest bit different from her mother.

"She been assigned with Micanna and Davran," Kata noted. "I'm sure they'll teach her well. Though not as well as you would, of course."

"They'll do fine," Brogan said from behind his mug. "I did well enough by you, but I can't be mentor for everyone. 'sides, I think I'm getting too old for it."

Kata raised an eyebrow at the dwarf. He kept a straight face for about ten seconds before he burst out laughing."

"Ah, you got me," he admitted. "Got two of the little runts following me around once we set off. Matter of fact, I'd better go see if I can find them."

"Should I tell them you don't really go mad if anyone calls you short?"

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't."

"You started that rumor yourself, didn't you?"

Brogan looked at Kata with innocent eyes as he got up from the bench. She scowled, trying hard to keep from smiling.

"You know I spent almost a season terrified that I'd slip up and say 'short', even if it wasn't about you."

"It was good for you," Brogan grinned mischievously. "Taught you to think before you said something."

"Get out of here!" Kata raised her hand as if she meant to hit Brogan. He giggled and ran off, making sure to grab his drink as he did.

Kata chuckled as she watched Brogan leave. Seeing him was always fun. It was hard to even remember how nervous and frightened she'd been around him at first. Brogan had seemed a gruff and impatient mentor. It was a long time before he showed her his easy-going, humorous side. One of her fondest memories was meeting him by chance in a small town and joined him for a meal at the inn. Talking with him, she had realized for the first time that Brogan now saw her as an equal and a friend.

She hoped Rayna fared as well with her two mentors.

The Last Battle: Part 4, Draft 1

Up until now, I've been posting the parts as full scenes. But this one is on the long side, so I'll divide it into at least two so you'll have something to read sooner.

The Great Feast finally comes and Kata actually gets to relax and enjoy herself. This part mostly sets the stage; Part 5 will introduce two characters. One is completely new, one you've met before, though not if you're going chronologically.

"Everything is completely ready for tomorrow," said Elgon, the knight in charge of organizing the preparations for the Great Feast, the night before it was to happen. He said this every year. It was never true.

The next day, as the squires were at last becoming full fledged knights, the knights organizing the Great Feast were scrambling to fix everything that had gone wrong. A tent had fallen over during the night. One of the main streets leading to the feast grounds didn't have proper lighting. One of the pie recipes, accounting for roughly 70 pies, hadn't come out to the master chef's standards. The tumbler who was second from the right in the base of the human pyramid needed medication for the dizzy spells he was having. And everyone, from the captain of the castle guards to the barker for the dunking booth to the curious tourist, had last minute questions.

As she had on the days before, Kata happily threw herself into the work. She pounded the tent stakes back into more solid ground and made sure the ropes were well secured. She rushed ingredients for the replacement pies into the kitchens. She escorted the healers to where the ailing tumbler was staying. She answered questions ranging from simple directions to running through the whole schedule of events for the night.

And somehow, it all came together, as it did every year. By sunset, the great hall and castle grounds were a mass of people, with still more arriving all the time. Much of the entertainment was already in full swing. The juggler and stilt-walkers and stilt-walking jugglers were moving through the crowds, often with a small devoted audience trailing behind them. The musicians were mostly warming up. They would be playing once the actual feast began. The attractions and merchant's booths were set up, though they did most of their business after the food had been served.

When the incoming crowds had thinned to infrequent groups of a few people, the castle's bell rang three times to call everyone to the banquet tables. Kata took her seat with the other knights who had been on the Feast organizing committee. Elgon gave a brief speech outlining the trials and triumphs of putting this year's feast together as the drinks were brought out. Enthusiastic toasts were made all around and the whole table needed refills by the time to the food was served.

As many people did on the day of the feast, Kata had purposefully eaten very little. Course after course of delicious roasts, soups, salads, breads, and of course, pies came one after the other and everyone wanted to try nearly everything. The feast organizers' table seemed to get special attention, possibly due to how well they'd done in keeping the kitchen stocked for the event. No other tables were ignored, but a call for more bread or another ale from the organizers' table always seemed to get answered first.

After her third slice of pie, Kata decided that she needed to get up for a walk. The few knights left at the table, gave her a final congratulations on her hard work, then went back to singing along with the musicians in a lively round.

By now the moon was out and the numerous torches Kata and her friends had set up were blazing away. Many people were leaving the banquet tables and the booths around the castle grounds were in full swing. Some were selling scarves, feathers, and various small trinkets as favors to give to a departing knight. Some sold jewelry and other little gifts that young knights typically gave to their sweethearts before the Sending. There were wooden swords and shields, toy knights, the dunking booth, a puppet show, all kinds of treats from various parts of the kingdom for anyone who actually had room for more food, and a variety of other attractions. The fire eaters were attracting a large crowd right now, tossing sticks lit at both ends high into the air before swallowing the flames..

Kata took a seat at an abandoned table near the fire eaters' stage. She watched the crowds move around, marveling as she did every year at the variety of people who came out for the Great Feast. Kata especially liked watching the children. Some, mostly the ones who were just old enough to enjoy all the attractions, just ran around happily, burning through whatever spending money they had been given. Those who had a little more idea of what the feast was for gravitated toward the wooden swords and shields and staged play battles, usually supervised by a helpful knight to make sure no one got hurt. The young pages watched the squires with longing, just the way the squires looked at the new knights who had completed the initiation ceremony that day. Then there were the children who weren't interested in anything but being with their parents and the ones who were being taken back home in tears. Most people wouldn't have mentioned them in the same breath, but Kata saw them as the two experiences knights' families went through. Some knights remained at the castle until the Sending put them on assignment in their hometowns. Often, the families of these knights would make the trip to the capitol for the Great Feast. After the Sending, the knights and their families would return home together. On the other hand, some knights had family in the capitol. When the Sending came, they would be going far away for a long time. There were always some children who connected the Great Feast, fun as it was, with Mommy or Daddy going away and couldn't stay long without crying.

The Last Battle: Part 3, Draft 1

Yeesh, this took a while. This segment was supposed to be a lot shorter and the post was going to include the feast itself, but obviously that didn't happen. Still, there's some nice stuff in here and a better hint at Kata and Santok's relationship. I should probably mention that the fortress and Santok's castle in Apex 1 are the same thing. I decided this would make more sense in light of the fact that Keltaria is still very much in a defensive stance (to say the least). Plus, I remembered that where Santok is now shouldn't really be his home. Calling his current residence the fortress should make the distinction easier. I'll change the wording in Apex 1 when I decide to edit it.

As usual, comments welcome


The next few days were busy ones, which was exactly what Kata wanted. Waiting around the castle and counting the days until the sending of the knights would have been maddening. That was part of why there were so many events held in the days leading up to the sending ceremony. Chief among them were the initiation of the squires into knighthood and the great feast held the following night. The squires' initiation ceremony was an almost secretive affair, which was supposedly meant to scare younger squires about what they'd be going through. Cyra had repeatedly said that the real reason was to keep the squires from suffering any more anxiety than they already did as they prepared for knighthood, but the myth persisted. Everyone, however, was welcome at the feast. It was a chance for the newest knights to be accepted by the others, for the knights to have a celebration with their families before leaving, and for everyone to send the knights off with a big party before sending them off more ceremoniously later on.

Though she could have easily gained an invitation to the initiation ceremony, Kata was helping with the feast preparations this year. The fun of the feast seemed more in keeping with her mood than the solemn tone of the initiation. The castle's great hall needed cleaning after the long winter. Tables and decorations had to be put up inside and out. Torches needed to be arranged for outside, as the festivities always went long into the night. More food came into the kitchens that the cooks alone could possibly keep track of. Entertainers from around the kingdom required sleeping quarters. And citizens of the capitol who were volunteering to help needed to be organized.

It was always a lot of work, but Kata had never enjoyed it as much before. She couldn't remember being this excited since her own days as a squire about to become a knight. Just strolling around the castle and counting the days would have been unbearable. Checking the stability of a torch or trying to figure out where 50 bags of flour had disappeared to gave her something immediate to focus on. There were some knights who felt that work like this was beneath them. Kata had never really felt this way and now she was extremely grateful for all the near chaos of preparations.

Still, there were the nights. When the sun had long gone down and the supervisors insisted that she get some sleep, Kata reluctantly returned to the knights' quarters for her nightly battle with wakefulness. The day's work might have seemed tiring, but her training as a knight had prepared her for much worse. One of Kata's teachers when she had been a squire had advised his pupils to take sleep where they could find it, as they'd never know when they'd be able to rest again. Kata was a good student, but this was one skill she had never mastered. Kata would lie awake for long hours, unable to quiet her excited mind. Rationally, she knew that sleep would bring the next day faster, but her giddy joy would not obey. It only grew worse as the day of the initiation and great feast grew nearer and Kata was becoming worried that when the sending came at last, she'd be too exhausted to leave.

The night before the feast finally came and Kata was sure she wouldn't sleep for a moment. She tried her hardest to relax her mind with controlled breathing and soothing thoughts. But still, her thoughts wandered. They pulled forth memories of her past visits to Santok, lingering over every detail of the ride out to the borders, the towering rough stone fortress, and Santok himself. It was maddening. Again, Kata though of her last night as a squire. Was this worse? No, this was joyful anticipation, no matter how maddening it was. The squires had excitement mixed with worry. Some had no idea what really awaited them in the morning. Some feared they weren't ready for the responsibilities of knighthood. Still others feared they had made a mistake and that knighthood wasn't what they wanted at all. Kata could remember that creeping nervousness and her sincere wish that she could somehow skip right to the great feast. What had she done that night to calm her fears?

Kata got out of bed, quietly so she wouldn't wake anyone else. She threw on enough clothes to be presentable and snuck out the side door of the knights' quarters. The guards on night watch nodded as she passed them and headed out to the stables. The stable guards were equally uninterested in why she was there. Kata hurried along to Tally's stall.

Tally gave a welcoming snort as Kata opened his stall. He had been with her since her last year as a squire and Kata had known no better horse. She patted him as an apology for getting him up so late, though he didn't seem soothed until she offered him a carrot. She got his tack on him as quickly as possible. Kata jumped into Tally's saddle, took hold of the reins and they were ready. Tally easily found his way out of the stables without guidance. Once they were outside, Kata steered him to the back of the castle. Once they passed the fencing grounds and the archery field, there was nothing but wide open space. Kata gave Tally three clicks of her tongue and a pat on the neck. Neighing happily, he broke into a full gallop.

On that final night in the squire's barracks, Kata had done much the same, though being a squire had required more sneaking around. Tally didn't know her as well then and had needed more urging to get up to full speed and more steering once her reached it. Now, with a horse she could trust completely and without the fear of being caught up after hours, a fast ride by moonlight was an even better way for Kata to clear her head. The cool air of the spring night flew by as she and Tally raced along. The castle grew slowly smaller, though it was too big and towering to escape completely. It was as if all the nervousness and unsettling anticipation Kata had felt was left far behind, unable to keep up with her swift footed steed.

Kata took a deep breath as the wind rushed into her face. She remembered the last time she had gone on a night ride like this. Of course, it had been with Santok, but the memory was only good now. She wasn't trying to sleep so thinking so Santok couldn't keep her from it. She had told him in the late afternoon how she loved riding at night, how calming and freeing it felt. Santok had never tried it. He never rode for pleasure at all, night or day. So she convinced him to try it with her that night. They rode through the woods at an easy pace, she on Tally and he on his enormous charger Granak, searching for an open field. Almost as soon as they found it, Tally was off, knowing Kata well enough to guess what she had in mind. At first Kata thought that Santok wasn't going to try it, that he'd just stay where he was and watch her. But then he was at her side. It took a while for both him and Granak to get comfortable with just going as fast as possible to no destination. But before long, he had begun to enjoy himself. He would turn sharply or bolt out towards distant hills, daring Kata to follow him. They raced each other, with no course, finish, or determining of the winner in mind. At last, the horses began to slow and Kata and Santok decided to let them rest. Santok led them to a small quiet lake where they dismounted. The horses were free to drink and graze while Santok and Kata laughed from exhilaration as they caught their breath. They stayed at the lake for a long time, not reaching the fortress again until just before dawn.

Almost as soon as she though that she should head back, Tally was turning back towards the stables. He slowed his pace and they reached the stables at an easy trot. Kata got him back to his stall and out of his gear. She rubbed him down, gave him a last pat, and left the stables. Soon she was back in bed. Sleep came easily now, even as she thought of taking Santok out riding again.

The Last Battle: Part 2, Draft 1

Two updates in one day? The gears must be really greased tonight! Not much to say about this one, though some questions from the first part I wrote should be getting answered. I did a little edit to Part 1 because I decided to change something when I got to Part 2. See if you can spot it

By Cyra's request, the receiving chambers were divided in two. One room was the formal room, typical of the receiving chambers of any castle. The walls were decorated with ornate tapestries of historical events and shields in honor of the kingdom's greatest heroes. Tall, freestanding candlelabras evenly spaced near the walls provided light. A royal blue carpet lead up to the throne, which was decorated with carvings of dragons. Cyra's own coat of arms hung behind the throne. There were chairs with velvet cushions and deep mahogany tables to the sides which could be moved to sit in front of the throne if the occasion required it. This was the room Cyra used for receiving diplomats, nobles from other kingdoms, or local leaders from her own land. It was for business of state and reflected that.

The other half of the receiving chambers was intended for meetings that didn't call for such formality. It was much smaller and had three large windows looking out on the gardens. A cushioned window seat ran along the bottom of the windows so guests could sit and enjoy the view. At the room's center was a low table surrounded by comfortable chairs. A small collection of books was housed in a shelf on the southern wall. The northern wall was mostly devoted to a painting of dragons in flight. A few dignitaries who Cyra was particularly friendly with had been invited into this receiving room. But mostly, it was used for meetings with friends and other people who weren't expecting all the pomp and ceremony that usually surrounds a queen. It was in this room that Cyra sat waiting for Kataya to arrive.

Three brisk knocks at the door announced that Cyra's guest was here.

"Come in," Cyra replied.

Kataya entered the room slowly. She was dressed in the relaxed clothing knights typically wore when staying at the castle between assignments. Only the crests on the shoulders identified her rank. Cyra noticed that her chestnut hair had grown long over the winter. She would likely have it cut or tied back upon leaving the castle. Kataya looked a little nervous, which was unusual but not unexpected, given what she was asking for.

"Your Majesty," Lady Kataya said in greeting, dropping on one knee and striking her palm.

"Hello, Kata." Cyra smiled and Kata seemed a little more at ease. Cyra motioned for her friend to sit in the chair facing her. As Kata got herself settled, Cyra reached for a tea kettle that had been brought up from the kitchens earlier.

"Tea?" she offered. Kata declined and Cyra poured herself a cup.

"You wanted to speak with me about my request?" Kata prompted gently once Cyra had taken a sip of her tea.

"I did," she answered, setting the teacup back on its saucer. "I wanted to talk with you before I go about approving it."

Kata seemed happy, but still a little worried. Cyra tilted her head, waiting for a reply.

"You do realize," Kata began slowly, "what I'm asking for?"

"Of course." Cyra took another sip of her tea. "You're asking me for permission to cross the Keltarian border to ensure our own is secure."

"And," she continued, just as Kata was looking even more worried, "you're asking for my tacit permission to go and spend time with Santok."

Kata let out a sigh of relief and Cyra grinned at her.

"I'm not completely oblivious, you know," the queen said.

"Sometimes..." Kata shrugged and the two women laughed.

"I just wanted to be sure you knew what you were agreeing to," Kata said. "I didn't want to think I was deceiving you, though I guess that's not very likely."

Cyra shook her head and finished the last of her tea.

"I've known for a while what was happening between the two of you," she said, letting her eyes wander to the windows. "I've given it much thought and watched you pretty carefully too. And from that, this could only benefit everyone."

She turned to face Kata again, her eyes firmly meeting those of her friend.

"I don't want you to think I'm taking this lightly though. The fact that you are my friend went into my decision, but not as much as the fact that you are one of my best knights and you have never disappointed me. Though I don't believe right now that Santok is using you, I'm confident that you're strong enough to keep him from doing so if he ever tries."

Kata nodded. She clearly wasn't taking this lightly either.

"I want to believe that your friendship with Santok will lead to and end to all this fighting," Cyra continued. "I know that's a lot to ask and I'm not expecting you to accomplish that anytime soon. But I want you to remember that you are always a knight of this kingdom and I expect you to act like one. I know this may be difficult, given the situation you'll be in. But I trust your judgment and I know you'll do the right thing."

Kata was beaming now, and a little flushed from the compliments.

"Thank you," she said softly. Cyra smiled.

"Now," she said, rising to her feet, "you have some packing to see to and I imagine you'll be helping with the feast preparations as well. So I won't take up any more of your time."

Kata grinned and got up as well. "I'll see you at the sending then?"

Cyra nodded. "If not sooner."

The Last Battle: Part 1, Draft 1

I'm forcing myself to actually write the beginning, so some sense might be made of the story. Since you've now read the first climax, you may well be able to guess at a few things. Anyway, this wasn't as hard to write as I though it would be. Let me know what you think.

It was spring. By date it had been so for a few days already, but now it was really spring. The sky was a perfect clear blue dotted with soft white clouds that wouldn't even consider threatening to rain. The green grasses danced in the light breeze, rejoicing in the arrival of warmer weather. Soon the farmers would be starting the year's work and the dragons would be flying again.

Cyra sat on the railing along one of the castle's covered walkways. She breathe deeply as the gentle breeze carried scents of blossoming plant life and rich soil up to her. The local stories claimed that Cyra's mood affected the weather of her homeland, so deeply bound was she to it. But Cyra herself felt the opposite was true. Even the busiest winter felt like a long slumber or a restless wait for something else to come. Spring was coming awake again, thawing out, calling everything back to life. It was a big part of why Cyra held the sending of the knights in spring. They were all energy and eagerness when the spring came. It was a perfect time for new beginnings.

"Your Majesty!"

Cyra sighed and reluctantly came down. Cinnet was rushing down the hallway to her, scrolls and quill clutched tightly in one hand. He did not look happy, though Cinnet seldom did. If he brought anything to Cyra's attention, it was usually something bad or tedious. Cyra wasn't in the mood for either.

"Yes, Cinnet?" she answered, trying not to sound exasperated before they had even begun the matter.

"Your Majesty." Cinnet bowed quickly and unfurled the scroll. He almost certainly knew what it said already, but he liked to look more official.

"Your Majesty, I have here a request here from Lady Kataya of Renair Hohlt. She is seeking your special leave for cross border patrolling on the border with Keltaria." Cinnet released the bottom of the scroll which promptly curled back to its original shape. He fixed an expectant look on Cyra, who was now in a better mood once again.

"Tell Kata that...." Cinnet cut her off with a roll of his eyes. Cyra sighed. Cinnet hated it when she used less formal names when they were discussing official business.

"Inform Lady Kataya of Renair Hohlt," Cyra said laboriously, "that I wish to meet with her in my receiving chambers as soon as possible."

Cinnet smiled as he finished jotting this down. "You will be declining her request?"

"No. I just want to speak with her before I approve it."

Cinnet became flustered again. "Your Majesty, I beg your pardon but this is highly..."

He seemed so upset that Cyra looked at him with genuine concern. Cinnet sighed, rubbing his forehead with his free hand.

"Your Majesty," he said quietly, "I know you're not a foolish person. You know that we're still fighting Keltaria and you know what Lady Kataya will be doing if you give her leave to cross the border. Under the circumstances...I am sorry, Your Majesty, but allowing this seems foolhardy."

Cyra smiled gently. Cinnet was overly formal, but he was honest and she valued that greatly. Most people wouldn't have voiced an objection to her.

"I know where she wants to go," she responded, her tone softening. "And I know there is a danger in allowing her to do it. But we wouldn't have held our land for as long as we have if we didn't believe that diplomacy can work. And right now, Lady Kataya is the only one who can get past the front gate. If Santok has come to think of her as a person he cares for and not just another enemy soldier, maybe she can convince him to think the same way about others, even me. Maybe we can end this fighting without any more battles, without any more dying."

Cinnet was silent for a while.

"You're certain," he began cautiously. "that it won't go the other way around? That he won't turn her against you?"

"I'm certain." Cyra showed no sign of being offended by Cinnet's suggestion. "If that was going to happen, it would have long ago. Kataya's strong and she's not going to disappoint me."

Cinnet made a few final notes on his scroll.

"I will inform Lady Kataya of your wishes, so I suggest you be waiting for her in the receiving chambers," he said. He bowed and left to seek out Lady Kataya. Cyra took one last look at the spring morning, then started in the direction of the receiving chambers.

The Last Battle: Apex 1, Part 1, Draft 1

Like most story blogs I've read, it seems this one will have multiple stories going on at once. I'm not completely sure what happens next in "Sea of Unicorns." The only ideas I have seem boring, and if I think they are, I doubt you'll find them much fun, dear reader. So I'm putting it on hold until I come up with something or people start saying they really want to see it back. (Semi-shameless fishing for compliments.)

So what's this you're about to read? Well, talk about something I need to get off my chest. I think this story is about 10 years old and the roots of it are even older. Since its inception, I've tried several times to write it, with little to no success. I'm starting in the middle on this one. The title is more than likely temporary, as is the name of Santok's native tongue. "Apex 1" refers to the fact that this is the first of two major events in the story, and the fact that I don't know how many part I'll write before or after. Santok is a minotaur, by the way, which should help you visualize him more clearly and but some of his thoughts into context.

It gets a little violent partway in, so be forewarned.

Santok knew well before he saw her that Cyra had arrived. His troops were noisy, following her through the hallways with shrieks and jeers. Were it anyone else who he wished to make it to his throne room unharmed, he would have gone out there himself to make certain nothing happened. But with Cyra, he did not need to be concerned. Even if she had heeded his request, they would not touch her, between their fear of her and their fear of him. The din continued, growing closer as the subject of his guards' taunts drew nearer to Santok's door. Then suddenly, it faded, until the hallway outside was silent. They were brave enough in the hallways, but they were not about to risk his wrath if he thought their teasing went too far.

The enormous door slowly began to open. Santok himself could open it with relative ease, but most humans couldn't budge it and needed his guards to open it for them. Cyra however, pushed one of the heavy doors open without aid. Santok regarded this without the slightest change of expression. He expected no less on the Dragon's first time in his castle.

Santok realized that he had not actually seen Cyra in a very long time. In most instances when their paths crossed, their blades crossed as well. His impressions of her were mostly blurred flashes intermingled with blazing light reflected off that hated sword. Santok was quite certain he had never seen Cyra this close before when he wasn't trying to at least put a sizable crack in her armor.

Cyra was smaller than he'd expected. This was his assessment of most humans, but she seemed short, even for a human. There was still no doubt that she was strong; even with her armor on she was visibly muscular. The armor he had seen before, decorated with various patterns and figures of dragons, but still quite effective. She had on a deep blue cape which Santok hadn't seen before. Likely she didn't wear it into large battles where it might hinder her movement. She was pale skinned with near white hair. No one seemed to know if this was how she had always looked or the result of some unthinkable horror she had suffered in the past. Her face was grim as she finished pushing the door to the point where it would allow her through. Showing no fatigue from the effort, she strode up the lengthy carpet toward Santok's throne. Her anger did not bother Santok in the least. Seeing the normally confident Dragon angry and - if everything had gone according to plan - unable to do anything about it was actually putting him at ease.

"Your majesty," he said, inclining his head with only the slightest hint of condescension in his voice. "You do me honor in my castle."

She met his gaze without hesitation, her eyes burning with a fury she was holding back for now. Without looking down, she dropped down her to knees, pressing her right hand to the floor while raising the palm of her left to Santok.

"Lord Santok," she said simply, in perfect Kletrak. It was a mixed gesture. The bow and the use of his native tongue were concessions to Santok. But her constant glare and unembellished acknowledgement of his presence were just shy of a challenge. Cyra knew well that she couldn't afford to risk Santok's full wrath. But she was not so beaten yet as to throw herself at his feet and beg his mercy. Again, Santok expected no less.

"I trust," Santok said, straightening in his throne to mark the end of the pleasantries, "that you have chosen to meet my terms?"

Wordlessly, Cyra reached to her side and pulled the hated sword free of her belt. Deslordian remained in its sheath and Santok could see the chains wrapped around its hilt. Cyra held the sword in front of her and gave a few tugs at the hilt to show that the chains held it fast in the scabbard. At this short distance, Santok could feel Deslordian's seething anger, though he wasn't certain if it was more furious at being unable to protect its bearer or being unable to kill him.

"You can test it yourself, if you'd like," Cyra suggested, holding the blade out to him. They both knew that this would not happen. Santok had once put a hand on Deslordian for a mere second. The experience had left him without the use of that arm for months. The sword's nature, the fact that it seemed to have a rudimentary soul within it, puzzled Santok. His own axe, though it was supposed to be the counterpart to Deslordian, only seemed to pulse with the energies of battle. It was yet another reminder of his constant struggle against Cyra, but nothing more than that. Deslordian, meanwhile, had changed its aura to a more alluring one, trying to tempt him to reach out and take it. Santok shook his head, feeling discomfort for the first time. He wished he'd been able to ask her to come without the sword, but he needed to be mindful of the prophecy.

"No," he answered. "Just keep it under control." The sword grew quiet, but still rumbled with a low fury. Cyra was now standing before him, fixing the scabbard to her belt once more.

"Where is Rayna?" she asked.

If Santok had not been searching for something like it, he likely would have missed the slight tremble in Cyra's voice as she said her daughter's name. She still stood with utter confidence and her eyes did not waver even slightly. But that little shake in her voice was the first sign to Santok of the anguish he had no doubt put his enemy through. He was pleased.

Turning his attention from Cyra for a moment, he called for one of his guards. The stick-thin creature with a face in a permanent sneer came running in from the back of the throne room. No doubt he'd been waiting as close to the door as he dared until he was summoned. He trotted up to the throne and looked scornfully in Cyra's direction. He seemed to consider doing more, but a quick look from Santok made him reconsider. He hopped up to Santok's side and Santok leaned very close to him. Speaking in Kletrak wasn't going to conceal their conversation, so he would have to keep his voice low.

"Bring the girl up now. If the lookouts spot any dragons, I will send them to find you and you may cut her hand off. Otherwise, she is not to be harmed while you bring her here. Understood?"

The guard nodded and left through the back door. Time passed awkwardly. None of the lookouts came down to report a sighting. Santok and Cyra eyed each other, but neither spoke. What was there to say?

The back door opened again and Cyra tensed. Even Santok was a little nervous as his guard shoved Rayna into the throne room in front of him. Santok hadn't seen her in full light since she'd first been brought to his castle. Her injuries looked far worse now that he could see her more clearly. The guard had tied her hands in front of her with coarse rope, which wasn't it making any easier for her to walk steadily. Her head was down; she wasn't ready to face her mother yet. Santok turned his attention back to Cyra, half expecting her to be ready to kill him with her bare hands. Instead, Cyra was completely focused on her daughter, unable to hold back a pained expression. Halfway to the throne, Rayna tripped and fell roughly to her knees. The guard let out a nasty chuckle and Cyra fixed her fierce gaze on him, looking even more furious than she had with Santok. The guard feel silent, dropped his end of the rope, and fled from the room. Cyra rushed to her daughter's side, knelt on the floor in front of her, and began tearing at the rope.

This was the moment. Santok rose slowly from his throne, carefully watching for the slightest sign that Cyra was aware of him doing it. There was none. He took a cautious step in Cyra's direction. Nothing. Another. Still nothing. It seemed the palace could have been collapsing around them and Cyra would have never known it. Her back was to him and her attentions were entirely fixed on Rayna. He advanced slowly, not wanting to test the limits of Cyra's preoccupation/ Soon enough, he was standing right behind his foe. She and Rayna were talking, but he couldn't make out any of it. The steady drumbeat of his axe had grown increasingly faster and louder. One strike was all it would take. She couldn't fight back, couldn't even defend herself. One strike and the Dragon would be dead. He raised his axe. Just one strike.

Never could he have dreamed of what happened next being even a possibility. Rayna was hurt and half-starved, barely able to walk a few steps without stumbling. From everything he had heard, she did not have her mother's strength or any of her experience with the worst of war and physical pain. Shame had kept her from looking up, even at her mother. So how had she seen it coming? From where could she have possibly summoned the strength to push her mother - the legendary Dragon, no less - out of the way of that perfect killing blow?

There were some who came to believe that the next thing was an accident; that nobody had enough time to react to Rayna pushing her mother out of harm's way. This was not true. Time seemed to slow for Santok, until that one moment could have lasted forever. His true enemy was no longer there and now the only thing in range of his axe's swing was Rayna's unprotected back. He could have stopped his axe mid-swing. He could have left Rayna and turned on the no doubt stunned Cyra and killed her before she even knew what was happening. But he remembered. He remembered seeing his father's shield resting on top of his covered remains, so battered that it's original shape was almost lost. He remembered standing by his mother's body as funeral preparations went on. He still wasn't sure if the rumor that her missing hand hung in Cyra's banquet hall as a trophy was true or not. He remembered everyone he had cared for who left him to fight against Cyra and came back dead by her hand. He thought of all the loss Cyra had caused him and chose to give her a taste of it. The axe was in his complete control every second, as it tore open Rayna's back, shattered her spine, ripped through her heart, and smashed through her ribs on the other side. He relished it, anticipating the release from his grief as he passed it on to his enemy.

And then, it was over. The pulsing beat of the axe slowly faded. As Santok's own breathing slowed, he realized that the joy he'd felt at killing Rayna was gone. Even before he had looked at Cyra, he knew that the pain he had caused her was not going to alleviate his own. He had done nothing but wasted the element of surprise. He looked down at his axe and saw that Rayna's body still hung limply from the blade. Disgusted, Santok gave the axe a shake and Rayna fell lifeless to the stone floor. Santok wiped some of the blood from the axe blade with the edge of his cape, then looked to Cyra.

Cyra had been thrown onto her back when her daughter pushed her free of the axe's swing. Now she was on her side facing Santok, though she didn't even seem to notice him. If she had been pale before, she was now ghost-white. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were wide with total horror. Her breathing had been reduced to strangled gasps, as if she just couldn't force enough air into her lungs. She was making a barely audible noise, high and thin and mostly air. It took Santok a moment to realize what it was. Cyra's voice was failing her, but she was screaming.

Santok circled around behind Cyra. Such untempered grief was hard to look at, even when the one suffering it was someone who richly deserved it. Cyra's only reaction was to weakly pull herself a little closer to her daughter's body. Santok realized that his chance to kill Cyra might not be gone after all. She was far too distraught to even think of fighting back. Even if she saw him coming, she might not move to stop him. He could still end this.

He would have, if she had not arrived.

She who? Well I'm still working on stuff like a new name for her and her coming in won't make much sense until I write what happened before it. So you're just gonna have to wait.

Sea of Unicorns - Part One, Second Draft

Okay, enough stalling. Time for round two. I kept a fair amount of what I wrote the first time around, but the majority of it's changed. I addressed both of Jen's concerns: one is stated more directly and the other will come in at a later point in the story. This is probably it for Part One for now. I don't know if I'd normally write a second draft of a small section like this before getting anything else done, but I really wasn't happy with my first pass. This probably isn't final either, but it's good for now. There's nothing so "fun" as working on one part of your story until its exactly how you want it, then getting three more chapters in and discovering you don't need it or it just doesn't work wit the direction you're taking now. So you probably won't see more than two drafts on anything for a while unless it blows beyond all reason.

I'm not sure what the next story segment will be, or even if it's what happens next chronologically. I'm thinking about writing a little piece about unicorns as they are in this story, partly for your edification, and partly so I don't forget what I have in mind as facts. It will almost certainly never show up in the final story; it's just some added info for now.


Even if I hadn't been looking for the unicorns, I'm sure I would have noticed them. I'd been watching for them ever since Brogal and I had returned to the tavern for our last meal before we moved on. But even if I hadn't been, I'm certain I would have seen them. They didn't look like anyone I'd ever seen before. They weren't merely pale; I had seen pale-skinned nobles who spent most of their days inside stone walls. The unicorns were bright white all over, the color of the palest moon. The man's garb was quite ordinary for a healer, but the woman was wearing a dress of extremely deep blue. They were both barefoot, which was almost unheard of in this part of the kingdom. Even the way they moved stood out. They had a certain gracefulness about them, a light step that barely seemed to disturb the dust on the floor. And even though they seemed relaxed, they held their fingers curled up against their palms. Not surprisingly, I wasn't the only one who turned around when they came in with Hesker.

Without looking up from his half-finished roast, Brogal tapped me with the back of his hand, letting me know I was obviously staring. I turned back to my own food and fought the urge to sneak another look as Hesker and his guests sat down at the far corner table. Brogal seemed far more interested in his meal than the newcomers, but even his eyes occasionally wandered toward the back of the room.

"You think they're married?" I asked. It was a silly question, but I had been wondering and it seemed like decent light conversation.

Brogal was in the middle of a long drink from his heavy stein and didn't answer for a minute.

"Maybe not with a royal decree on it," he said at last. "But I imagine they are. Way I hear it, they stay with their mates for life and don't spend much time around anyone else."

I nodded. This fit with the little I'd heard in stories about unicorns. They were renowned to their loyalty to their mates. I glanced over at Hesker's table again. The woman was sitting close to the man with her hand resting over his. She seemed to be the one responding to most of Hesker's questions. The man was mostly quiet, only once in a while adding a brief quiet or nodding in agreement with his wife.

"So what can they do for us?" I asked, turning back to my food and Brogal.

Brogal shrugged. "Healing, likely. They're supposed to be damn good at healing, even when they're human."

He took another deep swig of his ale, using it as an excuse to lean back far and have a look himself.

"We'll know soon enough," he added, setting the heavy stein back on the table.

"Any idea why they want to help us?" This was the question I had given the most thought to. Though it was quite rare, it was not unheard of for unicorns in human form to be seen traveling from town to town offering their services as healers. But for them to stay in one place for more than a few days, or even to join up with a group like ours, was unheard of. On top of that, unicorns were regarded as shy and peaceful creatures. What interest could they have in us and our battles?

"Not a one," answered Brogal. "We don't even know yet if they'll actually join, so let's not get too excited yet."

I nodded. Brogal went back to his meal and I tried not to look like I was eavesdropping. We had been holed up at the tavern ever since Hesker got word that two "interesting people" wanted to speak to him about joining the fight. It took several days to make certain it wasn't an ambush. Even then, we were taking a risk. The tavern was supposedly safe and well into free territory, but that could easily changed and staying in any place for too long was dangerous. We were impatient to get back to the front. If Hesker was willing to stay at the tavern for as long as we had, he had to believe he could convince these unicorns to help us. I'd seen Hesker recruit enough people to believe it too.

Brogal jabbed at my shoulder with his stein. Hesker and the unicorns had left their table and were coming over to ours. Hesker seemed to be in good spirits and the unicorns were walking alongside him with that same easy soft stride as before. It seemed all but certain that they would be joining our fight.

"Brogal. Lenna." Hesker kept his voice just a bit lower than normal, as he usually did when speaking to us in a public place like the tavern. "We're going to have new healers joining us."

This was the first time I had seen the unicorns up close. They were slender and not particularly tall, though they both appeared fairly strong. Their ears were slightly pointed, which might make someone think they had a trace of elvish ancestry. Looking at their foreheads, I could just make the faint gray nunis in the center, marking where the bases of their horns would be. Hesker introduced both of us, then stepped back and turned to the man.

"This is Greyen."

Greyen smiled and nodded at us in greeting. He had a long face with sharp features, making him look even more elvish. His white hair was cut short and framed his face very neatly. He had dark eyes, too dark to be called any particular color save black. He was dressed in traditional healer's garb:a fawn colored tunic and leggings, slung with pouches of various sizes for carrying herbs, potions, and dressings. I glanced at his belt and noticed he didn't carry a weapon. I wasn't yet sure if he would want one.

"And this is Veres," Hesker added as the woman stepped forward.

Veres was just a little smaller hat her husband, though no quite as thin. She had a thick tangle of white hair falling around her face in loose, uneven curls. I now noticed that the deep blue dress nearly matched here eyes. Still, I wondered how long she would be able to keep it as we tried to travel unnoticed. The dress had no obvious pockets, so I guessed she must have left her supplies elsewhere. She grinned broadly at us and shook our hands, which was a bit of a surprise after Greyen's reserved greeting. We must have looked a little surprised, but Veres simply laughed in an easy, friendly manner. I was almost certain we'd hear a lot of her laughter in days to come. We could certainly use some cheer at the front.

"We should get moving as soon as possible," Hesker said when the introductions were through. "we've stayed here too long as it is and we need to be getting back to the front."

"We'll just need time to get the rest of our things," Veres said. "And to say goodbye to Connor. He's been very kind, letting stay here." Greyen nodded in agreement.

"Meet us by the front door when you're ready," said Hesker. "Don't be too long."

Veres smiled and rushed back up the tavern stairs. Greyen followed her at a slower pace.

"You sure we can trust them?" Brogal whispered after they had gone.

Hesker nodded and motioned a barmaid over to order one last drink. "The main thing was making sure they were really unicorns before we met them. When I was young, we had one pass through our village. Lucky thing too; my sister had broken her arm not two days earlier. They're powerful healers, even when they're human, and I guess they just know where they're needed. And they don't lie to you. They may keep a thing from you, but if you ask them an honest question, they'll answer you honest. Worst they'll do is say they can't tell you."

"Did they say why they're helping us?" I asked Hesker. He shook his head a little.

"I asked them," he replied. "And Veres just said it was the right thing to do. That's all I know and I didn't press it."

"He doesn't say much, does he?" Brogal noted, inclining his head towards the stairs.

"Veres talks a lot more," agreed Hesker, as the barmaid came by with his drink. "But Greyen'll talk if he has something to say. He's just not one to waste words."

We sat in silence for a while, possibly worried about wasting words ourselves. Brogal and Hesker finished their drinks while I kept an eye on the stairs. Finally, Hesker set his empty mug down.

"I'll go and pay Connor what we owe," he said, getting up from his seat. "You two finish eating and make sure you're ready to leave."

Hesker headed over to the bar to settle our bill. We polished off the remnants of our meals and headed upstairs to finish packing for our journey.

Sea of Unicorns - Part One, First Draft

OK, time to get rolling. This is a story that's been bouncing around my head for quite some time. I just kind of remembered it recently and thought it might actually deserve writing. The title may well be temporary, as it doesn't make any sense until somewhere in the middle and it doesn't really click until very close to the end. Names may be changed as well. Feel free to comment and please, please ask me how I came up with the word "nunis". It's a good story, possibly even better than this one.

It was not a surprise when Brogal told me our two potential new allies were actually unicorns. I don't know that I would have guessed, but they were definitely unusual people. They weren't merely pale. Their skin and hair were both almost unnaturally white. Their ears were slightly pointed, though that could easily be mistaken for some elvish ancestry. Most telling, though you could easily miss it, was the light grey nunis on each of their foreheads marking where the horn would be. "Unicorns" might not have been my first guess, but it was not a shock.

"So what can they do for us?" I asked Brogal, stealing a cautious glance at the newcomers at the table across the room.

Brogal shrugged. "Healing, maybe. I hear they're damn good at healing, even when they're human."

He took a deep swig of his ale, using it as an excuse to lean back far and have a look himself.

"Hesker'll know soon enough," he added, setting the heavy stein back on the table.

"Any idea why they want to help us?" Even then, I had no illusions about the importance of our cause outside of our corner of the kingdom. Back then, a local lord making a grab for freemen's land was nothing unusual. The crown had little real power outside of the capitol. "Local disputes" were left to the disputing parties to fight out. Once the battles were over, the Royal Army showed up and laid down the law in favor of the winner.

"Not a one. We don't even know yet if they'll actually join, so let's not get too excited yet."

I nodded. Brogal went back to his drink and I tried not to look like I was eavesdropping. We had been holed up at the tavern ever since Hesker got word that two "interesting people" wanted to speak to him about joining the fight. It took several days to make certain it wasn't an ambush. Even then, we were taking a risk. The tavern was supposedly safe and well into free territory, but that could easily changed and staying in any place for too long was dangerous. Most of us were impatient to get back on the move. If Hesker was willing to stay at the tavern for as long as we had, he had to believe these unicorns would be able to help us.

Brogal jabbed at my shoulder with his stein. Hesker and the unicorns had left their table and were coming over to ours. Hesker seemed to be in good spirits and the unicorns were walking alongside him. It seemed all but certain that they would be joining our fight.

"Brogal. Lenna." Hesker kept his voice just a bit lower than normal, as he usually did when speaking to us in a public place like the tavern. "We're going to have new healers joining us.

He stepped back, turning to the man standing beside him.

"This is Greyen."

Greyen smiled and nodded at us. He was slender and stood just a little taller than Hesker. His hair was cut short and his eyes were too dark to be called any particular color. He was dressed in a fawn colored tunic and leggings, both covered with pouches of various sizes. This was typical of traveling healers who carried all their herbs, potions, and dressings with them. I glanced at his belt and noticed he didn't carry a weapon. Hesker would probably find him one soon, though I wasn't sure yet if he'd actually be going into battles with us.

"And this is Veres," Hesker added, indicating the woman.

Veres was smaller hat her husband, though no quite as thin. She had a thick tangle of white hair falling around her face in loose, uneven curls. She wore a plain dress, but of the deepest blue I had ever seen. I wondered how long Hesker would put up with her wearing something that stood out so much. The dress had no obvious pocket, so I guessed she must have left her supplies elsewhere. She grinned broadly at us and shook our hands, which was a bit of a surprise after Greyen's reserved greeting. Maybe we seemed a bit taken aback because she drew back a little and curtseyed. We smiled awkwardly and blushed. Few of the local women were so formal. If Veres noticed our embarrassment at all, she didn't show it.

"We need to get moving as soon as possible," Hesker said when the introductions were through. "we've stayed here too long as it is and we need to be getting back to the front."

"We'll just need time to get the rest of our things," Veres said. "And to say goodbye to Connor. He's been very kind to let us stay here." Greyen nodded in agreement.

"Meet us by the front door when you're ready," said Hesker. "Don't be too long."

Veres smiled and rushed back up the tavern stairs. Greyen followed her at a slower pace.

"You sure we can trust them?" Brogal whispered after they had gone.

Hesker nodded and motioned a barmaid over to order one last drink. "The main thing was making sure they were really unicorns before we met them. When I was young, we had one pass through our village. Luck thing too; my sister had broken her arm not two days earlier. Even when they're human, they're powerful healers. And they don't lie to you. They may keep a thing from you, but if you ask them an honest question, they'll answer you honest. Worst they'll do is says they can't tell you."

"Did they say why they're helping us?" I asked Hesker. He shook his head a little.

"I asked them," he replied. "And Veres just said it was the right thing to do. That's all I know and I didn't press it."

"He doesn't say much, does he?" Brogal noted, inclining his head towards the stairs.

"Veres talks a lot more," agreed Hesker, as the barmaid came by with his drink. "But Greyen'll talk if he has something to say. He's just not one to waste words."

We sat in silence for a while, possibly worried about wasting words ourselves. Brogal and Hesker finished their drinks while I kept an eye on the stairs. Finally, Hesker set his empty mug down.

"I'll go and pay Connor what we owe," he said, getting up from his seat. "You two make sure you're ready to leave."

Hesker headed over to the bar as we headed upstairs to finish packing for our journey.

Introduction

Well, I did it. I've been thinking about picking up fiction writing again for a while. Now, at the very least, I have somewhere to put what I write. Whether this will actually lead to me being more productive is anyone's guess. But for the time being, my intentions are good.

What you're going to see here are mostly story fragments. You might see a few paragraphs of one thing, a chapter of another, some character notes for something completely different, a rough outline, or some notes that make sense only to me. I imagine I'll try to keep the stuff that doesn't make sense out of public view. The segments of story may very well be out of order, though I don't really like to tip my hand too early storywise. You will, however, probably be seeing my various drafts and getting an inside look at my writing process. My "process" usually consists of putting together some strings of words that feel passable at the time, stopping, reading it over the next day, throwing up, tossing 80% or more of what I wrote out and starting over. So you, lucky readers, will get to see aspects of my writing that I normally wouldn't show to anyone. At least, until I lose my nerve.

I welcome comments, good or bad. I wouldn't be posting this stuff if I wasn't willing to get some feedback. I only ask that you try to be constructive; I can't do much with "It's good" or "It sucks." And even if everyone hates them, I will not remove any posts unless I actually manage to get something published, in which case the story will probably be removed. I do reserve the right to remove any replies that are not relevant or constructive.

So read, feel free to comment, and hopefully enjoy.