4. Chapter One, Scenes Four and Five

Getting ahead of myself - Excitement is intoxicating.

Hi all.

I know that you all have lives. I know you are all busy-busy-busy, the hustle and bustle, to make ends meet, but could you do me a huge favor? Just one, that’s all I ask.

There’s a heart button, right here on the email, at the top, just below the title. Could you click on it for me? Pretty please… and, you know what, if I get five likes, I promise I will give you another scene tomorrow!

I see the views climbing, and the activity on the blog, and it is just so exciting, I want to explode! Sometimes I think I am drunk or high or something, just on the adrenaline of realizing that ‘this’ is me publishing my story, scene by scene.

Wow! I can’t believe I am actually publishing my story!

I mean, I know it isn’t a book, and if I keep this up, it probably never will be, but to see that so many people are reading something that I have written… That someone else is even interested in this, my brain-baby… I never imagined it would be this exhilarating!

I have been thinking about it and the other day I worked out that I started this thing sixteen years ago. For the past sixteen years, I have been writing only for myself with never a thought of sharing it with anyone, not even my family. And now… :-)

Thank you.

I think I will keep doing this.

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INDEX | Chapter One | Scene 1 | Scene 2 | Scene 3 | Scene 4 & 5 | Next Scene ->

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Tom goes down five paces from me, face-first in the snow. A dead drop. Like flipping a switch, I go cold. Seconds pass like dripping tree sap. Even the wind has stopped for a moment. The words "Luke, help!" form in my mind, but just as I am about to call out Tom's hand twitches. He groans, and my heart remembers to beat.

I glance towards the ship. Luke has already turned round, and I thank the Deity for his telepathic prowess.

My blood boils. The energy rises within me. I can feel my hair standing on end, as my feet clear the ground, and my vision takes on a golden haze. I turn round to face the fearsome warrior that dared attack my brother, expecting to make him beg for his life.

An energy blast like that cannot be fired long range, so I use my senses to scan the forest up ahead, extending my probe two hundred meters, five hundred, a kilometer... I find nothing.

The forest is empty. I don't understand.

Luke is getting close now. The golden haze starts to subside as my confusion grows. Then I see it, fifty paces ahead, arms bathed in emerald flames: a skeletal figure, half-dressed in a tattered rag. It has no detectable energy signature.

There are a few patches of milk-white skin showing through the layers of dried blood and mud and it has hair, leaf, and twig adorned but pulled back into what must once have been a braid, as long as she is tall. As I look into her eyes Luke's voice echoes in my mind: "Tom is winded but otherwise unhurt."

I take my first breath since the green fire flashed past me and it clears away the cobwebs a bit more. She's just a little girl.

I take a tentative step toward her. She raises her arms menacingly. Another step and the flames flow down them to gather in her hands and condense into two flaming orbs that flicker in the breeze. I know I should not underestimate her, she obviously has power, enough to take down my brother, though I still cannot sense a shred of it. Those fireballs look solid enough.

I hear Tom whisper something about dogs to Luke and as the next gust comes through the trees, I think I hear shouts as well. Her eyes flick backward, and she shivers visibly.

I stop and send out another pulse to search for energy signatures. It is one of the first things my father taught me and as easy as breathing. Hunters. The wind makes them seem closer than they are but they are closing fast. A large group, thirty, no, more.

One more step and she moves. Pivoting on her front foot whilst bending her knees, she lowers her center of gravity and in a single fluid movement she brings the two orbs together to form one, positioning her for a perfect backhanded strike!

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And here’s the next one, because gratitude makes me feel generous ;-)

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The Manorian seems slow to react. My first hit was perfect, and it took the big one full in the chest, dropping him like a stone. The surprise must have been complete. Under different circumstances, I might have been pleased, but that shot had been everything, every scrap of spare energy, I had, even using a safe amount of Vital energy to bolster and stabilize it. Now I stand, breathless, waiting in the gloom of a blue sky, on the edge of despair, wondering if my best is enough, knowing that if it isn't, I am going straight back to the place I have fought so hard to escape from.

They will save my life, put me back together, and then... Teag's whip will sing... And they will use parts from another poor young Talented girl to do it all over again. More blood on my hands. In time I will heal, and this will be nothing more than a nightmare except when James comes to remind me. Everything will be like it was and I will continue to suffer, only now... Chrystal is dead. My only friend is gone.

The big one remembers he is alive... and I am drawn from my reverie.

It takes half a hundred heartbeats for the red one to light up. He is golden as Serus when it finally happens. The fire starts in his fist and spreads slowly up his arms. He leaves the ground as it envelops his torso and creeps down his legs. His hair sheds its blackness in golden shreds and his power crackles in the air like lightning. At last, he turns from his companion, and I am bathed in the heat of his rage. Fragile hope steadies my breath. He is a true Manorian on the cusp of manhood, probably the most powerful foe I will ever face. At least it will be quick. I think to myself as the wind blows up another gust of barks and shouts from the approaching trackers. A pity he will die for the service he does me. TTH will not forgive a Manorian for killing one of their precious Talented children.

He does not look at me at first, but my heart keeps the time.

Ten beats.

He is peering intently into the trees, searching with his own energy for something. He doesn't seem to notice me at all.

Twenty beats.

Pulling together another few shreds of my Vital energy, I force it to the surface of my skin, holding it like a shell along my arms. It looks somewhat less impressive than I had hoped it would, but it is the best I can manage. I hope I will not have to hold it long.

Thirty beats.

Forty.

-one,

-two,

-three...

His eyes find mine as the older companion appears out of nowhere. The big one whispers something to him.

Steady now, do not show weakness. My concentration is all that keeps the flames from flickering out.

Attack, Manorian. I have nothing left to give you. Attack!

He takes a step, and I hope he will not notice how ragged my breathing is.

I draw the superficial flames downwards, forming a bubble in each palm, puffing them up until the shells are as thin as a hair and it is only the flickering green glow that makes it look like more than it is.

Another step.

Come on take the bait.

The wind gusts, carrying shouts along with the baying. I have to choose between staying upright while maintaining my stance and stopping my eyes from flicking back, and I wince, knowing he sees my weakness.

Another step.

That's it. I have no choice but to make the move or lose any chance of him taking me seriously enough to fight back.

He steps. I pivot, bringing the empty bubbles together to make one big one, and beg inwardly.

Now, Manorian...

-please.

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Alright, I hope you’re hooked. Five likes and I promise, more tomorrow.