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Cadell
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Name: Philip
Country: United States
State: California
Metro: Sacramento
Birthday: 12/30/1988
Gender: Male
Interests: reading, writing, snow mobiling, classic cars(esp. '65 mustangs), sports (esp. hockey), debate, strumming on my bass guitar, hanging out with my friends, and just being me.
Expertise: basically any occupation that involves using my hands.
Message: message me
Member Since:
1/1/2006
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| Well... here you go. This is my latest series. Let me know what you think
-Philip | | |
| Prologue:
Blood Mark
Over the Pains of Ki’Tarr, a Kerran ran. She ran with a purpose. She ran for life. Not for her own, but for the life of the sleeping child that she carried in her arms. Kerrans were born to fight: she had no fear of death, but she could not protect herself and the life of the child at the same instance. She had one goal: to bring the child to her people. She could do no such thing dead; so she ran. She ran for all that she was worth. Kerrans, being cat-humans, could run for hours upon hours. Her name didn’t mean “Wind Treader” for nothing; she only wished the same would be true of the child that she carried.
As she ran, she saw that the moons were almost at their zenith. She must hasten. Everything depended on the child’s survival. The Dark Empress knew that the child had been born, but She did not yet know where the child resided. With that, they had the advantage. For that, she ran.
She passed over rock and crag, river and stream, until finally Gale Wood was before her eyes. Here, the Dark Empress’ eyes could not pierce. Here, the Rhelm would protect them. Gale Wood, the domain of her people. Their only hope resided in this innocent child. Her only hope was that she wasn’t too late in her coming.
As she entered into the Rhelm she turned her head back to the dark world outside, and breathed a sigh of relief. She was home. When she had taken just a few short strides, all illuminated around her, and dozens of her people rose from the surrounding brush. At her right, Brennos rose from his crouching stance and walked over to her. As he viewed the bundle in her arms, he queried, “Is this the child?” She nodded and Brennos said, “Well then, let us proceed.”
“Do you think he is ready?” she asked concernedly, “What if he’s not?”
“He must be, Galim.”
With a wry little smile, Galim nodded her agreement.
“Of course”, she breathed, “he must be.”
With that Brennos motioned for her to follow, and led her deep into the Wood. They came upon a sort of secluded ritual area, where, in the center, there was what appeared to be a perfectly level tree stump… only, it was made of stone. She had not laid eye on the like in quite a long time, but it would once again be called to use. After a period of silence, Maleel, the Elder of their people arrived with two maidens leading him, each holding one of his arms. When they stopped in front of the stone slab, Maleel said, “Bring forth the child.” Galim, still caressing the child in her arms, walked over to the slab and set him atop it. As Maleel studied the child, he placed his hand upon the child’s chest. Its chest rose and fell in silent sleep, a thing that almost brought tears to Maleel’s eyes. He had not known such a peace in many a century.
“Elder, is he strong enough?” Brennos asked.
Maleel answered, “Yes, Acolyte. Yet, he is still weak. In time, he will grow to be tremendous in strength… in time.” The Elder began to chant something in the Ancient Tongue, and placed his hands upon the stone at either side of the child.
The Elder drew symbols upon the face of the stone with his fingers, and where his fingers had touched light now shone up brightly. He continued until there was a complete circle of symbols around the child, where upon he placed the palm of his right hand just above the child’s face. He continued to chant and, all of a sudden, a large symbol now shone brightly up from the back of his hand. “Galim”, he said, “you must stay here… the rest of you may go.” The two maidens that led Maleel to the stone bowed their heads and turned to leave… Brennos had done no such thing.
Brennos retorted, “Elder! Surely I must-
“Acolyte! What must happen next is for Galim to see, alone. Your part in this Naming is done.” declared Maleel. “You must go!”
“Come, Brennos”, the maidens said in melodious unison, “let us leave to do as they must.”
Defeated, Brennos acquiesced, “Yes, Elder.”
When they were alone, Meleel said, “Now, Galim, you are to be bonded to the child… are you ready?”
“But Elder, I am too young. I could not possibl-
“You have carried this child from birth. The attachment that has formed between the two of you is more than visible. You, no doubt, care for this… who else, if not you, could possibly be better suited?”
Galim nodded, “I… am ready, Elder.”
Maleel took a small blade that hung from his neck from its sheath. He pricked the thumb of the child, and then stood in stunned silence as the child did not wake. Then, using the droplets of blood that were produced, painted a symbol on Galim’s forehead. He then proceeded to do the same with Galim; pricking her thumb and painting a symbol onto the child’s forehead. As he cleaned the blade and returned it to its sheath, the symbol atop both their foreheads began to shine with brilliance. They beamed with intensity, and then died away. When they had died away completely, the child’s eyes shot wide open, whereupon he turned his head and stared at Galim. Galim gasped in astonishment at the torrent of emotions that now flowed into her through the bond: innocence, curiosity, and, strongest of all, love towards her. She went to touch her forehead, and found that there was no trace of blood on it, as well there was no visible wound on her thumb. She saw that it was the same for the child, and was reduced to tears of silent joy.
“It is done” stated Maleel. “You to have now formed an unbreakable bond. Unless severed by death, this bond will never be cut off. You shall always know how and where he is. Take caution… do not be overwhelmed in his times of sorrow, nor be engulfed by the ecstasy of his joy. For this bond is a gift and a curse; one must learn how to control one’s emotions. Come now Galim, ‘Wind Treader’, it is time that you take the child to his human caretakers.”
At this, Galim sunk in on herself. She was grieved that she was not to raise him.
“Do not be saddened.” Said Maleel, “You may not always be there to dry his tears, but you will always be here to give him strength in his times of need.” He placed his hand over his heart.
With this, Maleel took her arm and walked her to the south entrance out of the Rhelm. As they reached the edge of the Wood, he said,” He must find his own way back to us… we mustn’t rush him into it.” Bending his head to look at the child, Maleel spoke a last chant and whispered, “May you always know who your true family is.”
He turned and left Galim standing there, holding the child in her arms. After a few moments, Brennos came up from behind her.
“Leaving before you said ‘good bye’?” he said, “I would never have forgiven you.”
“If this is about the Elder’s decision that you leave… I am sorry. I had no say in the matter.”
“The Elder does as he deems wise… all we can do is obey, and trust that he knows best. Besides, that isn’t what I came to talk to you about.”
“Then what is?” Galim asked.
“Do you intend to stay with him? Live amongst the humans?”
“I am… uncertain. If his caretakers will allow it, yes.”
“I suspected as much.” Brennos sighed and continued, “Well, if that does turn out to be the course of action in which you choose, please return to us when you can. There are those who will… miss you.”
Brennos went over to her and rested his hands on her shoulders. They rubbed their heads together and purred, as was custom in Kerran tradition. With this, Brennos left Galim, and she was alone once more.
She walked slowly, and passed into the world as it turned into dawn. Galim took one last look at her home before she would, for the time being, leave it behind.
Just as she was about to take her flight to the child’s new home, Galim looked at him and whispered, “Come, my little ‘Shadow Wolf’. Let us ride on the wind together.”
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| Red Wolf Ch.1
Running. a distant feeling of fear gnawed at him. The intensifying sense of impending doom encroached upon him. For some unknown reason, he found himself down on all fours as if he were some beast or rabid dog. Without warning or forethought, he had the unshakeable urge to howl. A most bizarre thing, seeing as he had no knowledge or experience in doing so. As if it were second nature to him his throat let out a blood-curdling cry. He howled, a most unusual thing, causing him to question his sanity.
His mind was so perplexed as to the recent happenings, that he could not feel the fear that now grew within him, nor was he aware of the cause of that fear. As if from nowhere, a foul beast, wielding a mace, hurled itself at him. With a face full of rage, the beast smashed into his right side with a crushing blow. He was flung to the ground, tumbling over and over. As he lay there, he studied this new-found adversary. It had the head of a black panther, the torso of a man, and the lower half of an ox. Its menacing armor blacker than night, decorated with spikes and sinister faces that seemed to hide after more than a glance. Its mace had three crude blades welded around the shaft at intervals of sixty degrees. Worse, the mace had blood on it. Wincing, he looked down at his side, he had fur, and there was blood dripping from the open gash which the mace had made. A disgusting grin appeared on the beast’s face, its armor flashing disfigured faces bearing mirth-filled smiles. A mutilated cackle rose from within its throat as it started to stalk toward him. Frantically he tried to bolt away, but the agony in his side slowed him to a mere crawl. Every second passed by like an eternity as the beast inched toward him. The closer the beast came, the closer he himself came to death. A distance of ten meters shrank to seven, seven to three, three to one. As the beast stood over him, half again as tall as a man, it resolved to press its hoof atop his chest. It raised the mace, spat, the faces flashing. It grunted, and swung-
Gasping, Erimm sprang up from his cot, cold sweat dripping down his face. His hand went to his side. No gash, no fur. He exhaled a sigh of relief, immensely happy to be alive. He looked around to make sure that everything was the same. His tent was still the same partially tattered, off-white piece of cloth it had always been. Breeze still whinnied outside from time to time. Everything was as it had been. Or, so he thought.
He rose to get himself dressed, but recoiled back to his cot for the pain in his side. Lighting the candle nearest him, he studied his sides to see which one it had been. After prodding and rubbing his left side, and finding no trace of anything, he proceeded to do the same to his right. When he turned to study his right side, he discovered the origin of his discomfort. There was a large, dark-colored bruise just below his ribs... For fear of what might have caused it, he wrote it off as an injury he had sustained while he had slept. Perhaps from hitting something while his cot swung. He had no idea. Furthermore he chose to forget it entirely and again proceeded to dress himself. Carefully, so as not to put any strain on his side, he rose from his cot once more, and picked out some articles of clothing without much thought or preference as to how they were fashioned or what they looked like.
After donning the attire, he packed up his clothing sack and saddlebag and affixed them to the pommel of his saddle. While arranging the saddle pad atop his horse’s back, he busied himself with patting the dun’s neck and rubbing her forehead. Breeze, in turn, acknowledged him by stamping her hooves and nudging his shoulder with her nose. The night still had its hold on the morning like Winter’s chill on Spring, but that wasn’t the reason Erimm shivered. A wolf had just howled, bringing back to the surface the dream which he had purposely pushed to the back of his mind. Breeze rolled her eyes up into the back of her head and tried to buck in fear, but Erimm held her reins tight soothed her. As he turned to retrieve her brush, he immediately sensed eyes boring into his back. He was being watched.
Tightening Breeze’s reins on the picket-line, Erimm slinked back into his tent. Upon entering, he scanned the interior for his axe. Finding it, he took it up and put it to rest beside the entry flap. He quickly changed into a drab brown over-coat, and proceeded to pack the rest of his belongings. Finishing this, he hefted his axe and studied it. A steel half-moon blade with intricate symbols engraved along the edge. A spike a hand’s breadth long anchored behind the blade. Such a beautiful thing, if a weapon could be called beautiful, yet such a sordid history it had. He hated having to use it for anything other than chopping wood. He never liked the fits he went into when wielding it as a weapon. Collecting his bow and quiver, he then began to loosen the string that fastened the back of the tent to the stake in the ground. Lifting the flap, Erimm slipped out into the forest behind him. With all luck he would remain unnoticed...
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| Red Wolf Ch.2
Sensing that the prey which he sought was no longer the one being hunted, the Tyrok retreated further into the dark foliage around him. Sniffing, his serpentine tongue tasted the air. Greedily, his eyes shot toward the horse that was still tethered to its picket-line, but dared not leave the safety of hiding for fear of being seen. He could still smell the residue of fear wafting from the human, leaving cover would be foolish. Turning, he headed slitheringly towards his quarrel. Upon going twenty or so yards he immediately felt endangered and jerked his head in time to see the human lunge at him…
Erimm tensed his shoulders as he paused from stalking between trees, straining his neck to catch any glimpse of what hunted him. Nothing moved in sight, nothing but what the wind stirred. His enemy was obviously not going to be standing around waiting for him to come to it, so he would let nothing surprise him. He plodded ahead in silence, letting not a thing be stirred by his presence. Heart beating, pulsing blood through his veins at an accelerated rate with every step. Temples pounding, obscuring all sound but that of his own breath within his ears. Muscles flexing, his hands itching to take hold of his bow or axe. One thing was key. Calm. He must retain his calm in order to stay alive. Breathe. Heart rate slowing, the pounding in his head subsiding, his hands resting at his sides. Calm returned. As sound hearing finally came back to him, Erimm just barely heard a low rustling in the distance. He went for his axe and scanned his surroundings for the source of the sound. His eyes were surprisingly sharp, seeing as he could depict the detail in even the leaves. As a low brush about a quarter mile away came into view, he just caught sight of the glint off a scale on the back of a reptilian-like creature. As he kept looking at the creature, his eyes took in the apparel which it was wearing. It had on the same darker-than-night armor that the creature in his dream had.
Immediately, he returned his axe to its belt and grabbed his bow. He brought an arrow from his quiver and nocked it in his bow. Bringing the fletching to his check, he raised the bow and began to draw it. Just as he was about to loose the arrow into the back of the creature’s head, it passed into a dense patch of the forest. Letting his bow go slack, he returned it to its case and the arrow to its quiver. Drawing his axe once more, he quietly rushed down toward his foe. At the top of an incline, he stopped in time to see the fiend slither into a clearing. Consumed with indignation, he hurled himself forward at the creature. The thing swung its head around to see him coming and threw up its scythe-like sword to parry his blow. As Erimm hit the ground he swung again at the fiend, aiming to dismember its head from its body. But, it being a serpent, it had unsurpassed reflexes. He found himself being pushed back, found himself having to back off, and burned with rage against the thing. He tried to shove the spike of his axe into the creature: its side, neck, arm, but the thing just moved, or parried, or put him on the defensive before he could attack, and drove Erimm back even further. Resolving that his attempts on the things life were futile, he turned to take cover into the wood around him. He bolted for the thickest part of the forest and resumed to put distance between him and his enemy. As he ran he looked back ever so often to see if he was being followed, but there was no sign as to whether or not the thing actually pursued him. His eyes went to a good perch as he surged forward, and his legs followed his eyes’ direction. Upon reaching it he checked for any sort of vantage point the thing might have if it came upon him. Settling into his position, he drew his bow once more and scoured the surrounding foliage for any sign of his enemy.
Suddenly, it burst from the brush and, upon seeing him, flew toward him. Still thrown a little off guard, he hesitated for only a second, but, gathering himself, he loosed his arrow straight at the fiend’s head. With only a hiss and a twitch, the creature doubled over to the ground. Erimm slowly got up the nerve to walk towards the creature, to see if it was truly deceased. As he inched toward it its body took to small convulsions for a period of time and then was still. Erimm studied, as he stood over it, where his arrow had hit home. His arrow had pierced up under its jowls and was protruding out through the back of its neck.
His aim had been true.
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| Hey guys... I'll try to put up my stories, see what you guys think of them. Remember... I want honesty. If you don't like 'em, tell me... if you do, great. I don't care what your comment is, just post it.
living every day in His graces
-Philip | | |
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