Young Writers Society

Alden landed on the roof of the barracks that the group had been assigned to. It was made of fresh wood, as had every other structure. The enlisted men still slept in tents, but more houses were being built each day. It seemed that every soldier had been made into a worker. Until the time came, they would still be workers. All of them were in excellent physical condition.

Alden, assured now that no one was going to walk by and read over his shoulder, took out the letter and began to read it.

It was written in an elegant cursive, but he had seen enough of it to know who had written it.

"Dear Alden,

I recieved your last letter and I refuse to accept it. Did you honestly think I would forget you if you ran away, using the King as an excuse? For what? Honor? Duty? My own good?

Do you honestly believe that running away will help me forget? There is nothing that can stop me from caring about you, because it is not something that distance can hide nor time erode. In truth, both only highlight my love for you.

Do not let honor and duty cloud your vision of us. What power do honor and duty have when compared to love? Honor and duty have never annihlated your enemies; only love has given you that power.

If I lose my honor, it will not be so devastating to me as if I was to lose you..."

The door slammed open and Finn rushed out into the night, Alden looked up from his letter to see her walk away. He turned back to the letter.

"Suffer no illusions on what your death would mean to me, it would be more painful than any amount of scorn. One can forget scorn with time and distance. I can not do the same for you.

In the old times, a woman would send a magical item to her warrior. The world we live in now is devoid of all the magic of old, so I must rely on the higher power of love to carry you back to me. I know of nothing greater.

With all my love,

Ria."

Alden stood perched on the barracks for a little while, before folding the letter up and seeing what had happened during his absence.

I eyed the newcomer without emotion, letting the corners of my mouth, which had been previously smiling faintly, lower into a frown.

"What is she doing here?" I asked Alden, completely ignoring her presence for the moment. The griffin looked slightly distracted, but tore his gaze away from the slip of paper he was holding to look at me. How he even managed to hold the paper without shredding it was beyond me.

"Harris has assigned her to our group. She is to accompany us, in order to learn the ways of battle," he said off handedly. My frown deepened, my brow furrowing.

"That is not acceptable, Alden. We are not a training academy, nor are we a child sitter," I said, in a no bullshit tone. The woman looked to me and opened her mouth to speak. I turned my whole body to face her, my shoulders squared and my face turned to more prominently project my ruined eye and the accursed Runes that adorned my flesh. By showing my blind eye, I was creating a wide blind spot, but I trusted my instincts that I was safe for the moment.

She tripped over her words, then, as my good eye met hers.

"I--er--my father--I mean--"

"Her father served in Harris' army," Alden finished for her. "He was killed at Sedgeley."

Her cheeks flushed with anger. "Yes...'e did. An' I plan on avenging him." He accent, though akin to Finn's in many ways, was far less pronounced.

I was surprised. The mere fact that she wanted vengeance, rather than wallowing in her sadness, was almost enough to make me consider letting her stay. "You're from Sedgeley, then," I said.

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

"And your father served under Harris? Did he teach you anything about war?" She nodded in reply to my first question, then laid a hand on the sword belted at her hip.

"Jus' the basics, I suppose. Nothing fancy."

I blinked once. Without turning my head, and I said, "Alden--this woman is under your care until further notice."

With that, I strode out of the room; there was much to be done.

Henry

"Is anyone there?"

The voice broke Henry's thoughts and he turned angrily towards the door, where the light had crept through and destroyed his personal darkness. When he saw it was Carmenia, his anger was stopped suddenly, and he was at a complete loss of words.

"Henry?" she said, noticing his outline in the shadowed room. "Henry? What are you doing here?"

"Why would ye care!" he shouted, not meaning to, but the blood was in his head now and he couldn't stop himself even if he wanted to. "Why would anyone care? Jus' leave me alone."

Carmenia gulped. "I'm sorry, really sorry," she stuttered, not expecting Henry to turn on her so. "I didn't know anyone was in here, I really didn't." She turned away and headed back through the door.

Henry swore at himself and jumped up, grabbing her arm as she was half-way through the door. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "Yer didn't deserve tha'."

Carmenia looked straight into his eyes, and it made him uncomfortable. "What's wrong, Henry? Why can't you tell me?"

"I hardly know yer."

"You said ... you said before, that didn't matter," she said.

"It doesn't," Henry said, sighing. "It does and it doesn't."

"Just tell me," Carmenia said. "Please."

Henry knew he'd have to, when her soft fingers touched the edge of his hands and he felt that shock run up his back. He was under her spell now. "We're so different, lass, so very different. Would it ever work? An elf like you and a poor human like me."

Carmenia took a step back, moving further out of the room, almost fully into the daylight. "That's what this is about? What race we are?"

"No," Henry muttered. "No, I didn't mean-"

"You think because I'm an elf, I'm a murderer like those bastards that razed Sedgeley?" Carmenia had raised her voice to a level Henry had never seen before. In fact, he had never seen her angry, nor heard her swear. It was frightening. "I thought you knew better than that, Henry. It's worked before! Why the hell do you think there are half-elves at all?"

"I'm sorry, Carmenia. It's jus' ... jus'-"

"Just what?"

"There be things ye don't know 'bout me, in the past. Somehow, it's always bin 'ard for me to trust anyone else, and 'specially since yer not even human," Henry said, slowly. "Not that it matters, not that it should matter at all, but it still does. It's me, Carmenia. Yer don't wanna be with someone like me, I promise."

"Wouldn't that be my decision?" she asked, staring him defiantly in the eyes.

Henry almost smiled then, appreciated the fierceness withing her, and he leaned forward, just as she did, the moment seeming perfect -- the sun casting them in light, the -

"What's all this shouting about, eh? It's the bloody morning! Anyway, yer two are supposed to be back with the rest of us, not dallying about over 'ere!" Cyrus shouted. His beard and clothes were all over the place, literally. He must still be half-asleep.

The moment was gone. Carmenia darted away, as if she was escaping. Henry rubbed his eyes resignedly.

Why did he have to ruin everything?

(Post on Carmenia)

Stealing away from all the noise, Carmenia sat on a mossy rock, thinking. Everything was so confusing. Did she care for Henry? And did Henry return the affection? She didn't know. Not since she realized that he was struggling with the same issue she was. Race.

Moments before Cyrus had barged in on them, there had been something. Something so perfect...but it hadn't happened. Maybe he didn't care for her.

...Yer don't wanna be with someone like me, I promise...

Why? She thought angrily. Why? Was he using that as an excuse? Was he trying to tell her that he didn't love her?

She resolved to keep her distance, just until she figured some things out.

From afar, she noticed several figures gathering, in something like a reunion, and she left to go find out what was happening.

It wasn't fecking fair.

Finn let out an inarticulate scream of anger again and continued to kick the large boulder she'd found beyond the outskirts of camp, not really caring as pain shot up her leg again; the ankle was still tender and sore from when she'd injured it. Again, she really didn't care. Not about anything. Especially not about the fact that Becky Stillman had survived Sedgeley and not her brother, not her darling little Liam who used to take care of her, who she used to take care of--who was so strong and so vulnerable at the same time--who had been the only human being to love her. Becky fecking Stillman!

And she especially didn't care that she'd chickened out this morning, slipping out of Seraph's arms and bed before he could even realize what had happened. She didn't care one bit.

She kicked the rock again, shouting.

Part of me wanted to go find Finn. For the moment, though, I ignored that part of me, determined to focus on the task at hand. Looking around the camp, I found myself wondering how many of Harris' men would put a dagger in my back sooner than they'd salute me. Given all the scowls and frowns I received, I guessed more than a few.

Dressed only in a simple tunic, trousers, my boots, and my swordbelt, I suddenly felt very naked and vulnerable without my armor. I brought a hand to my goatee and found it completely out of sorts; I couldn't remember the last time I had trimmed it.

I sighed. Just one more thing to take care of before we left.Then I stopped, sighed, and spun back on my heel. My shield was still all but destroyed by the cave-in that had almost killed me.

I strode back into the barracks, ignored the griffin and the newcomer, and picked up my shield by its straps. I walked out without saying a word to either of them, didn't even bother listening to what they were talking about.

Then I stopped the first soldier I met, a rather your looking corporal with a scar running from the left corner of his mouth to his ear, and asked him where the blacksmith was.

He snapped off a quick salute, and said, "Sir--East end of camp, sir." There was only a slight sense of sarcasm to his voice at the word "sir." I thanked him, saluted, then dismissed him. I headed off to the East end of camp. Soon, the sound of hammer against anivl reached my ears, and I quickened my pace.

A small blacksmith had been set up, with very basic equipment. Four men, with their assistents, were stationed there. Only two were working at the moment, and I quickly got their attention with a barked order.

"I need this repaired. It is a very dear possession, gentlemen, and I would like ti restored to its former glory."

"That's well and good, sir...but we're no experts."

I looked hard at one of the men. He has a blacksmith's arm, and his hands were heavily calloused from wielding the hammer--he was maybe fifty years of age.

"You. Get whomever you need, and get this repaired. How much is your commission?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No charge, sir--"

I blinked, and said "How much would you charge a civilian?"

"He looked at the damage on the shield and shrugged. "Maybe five gold."

I pulled on a pouch at my belt and it came free. I tossed it to him.

"There's twenty. You'll get thirty more if I like your work." I handed his assistent the shield, and with a curt nod, strode off again.

I went through a list of metnal priorities, and was surprised to find Finn next on the list. I alsmot frowned, but a ghost of a smile took its place.

"Alden--this woman is under your care until further notice," Seraph said.

I turned to the girl.

"What's your name again?"

"Bekky Stillman," she said with a shiver.

"Stillman, if you want to learn to fight, then you've come to the right place. Avenging your parents is going to take a lot of hard work.

This group is very busy and if you fail to keep up with your work, then you will be expelled from the group. It's hard enough keeping ourselves alive without having some lazy rookie getting us killed.

If you want to leave, then you may do so now. If you want to stay and learn, then you will follow my rules. What is your decision?"

"I want ta learn ta fight."

"Then I'll take you on as an apprentice. From now on, you will address me and everyone else in the group as Master or Mistress, according to their station. Is that clear?"

"Yes."

"Yes what!"

"Yes, Master," she squeaked.

"Good. Now, if you have any questions or if you need anything, then speak to me directly. Don't waste their time with your problems. They have enough problems of their own. Clear?"

"Clear Master."

"You may address me as Sir for informal occassions," Alden said. He sounded really mean and he was putting an edge on every sentence; a nearly perfect imitation of a drill sergeant he had once seen. Still, one couldn't learn to fight without some discipline, otherwise they would become wild like so many outlaws he had fought.

"Yes, sir."

"Don't look at me like that. I don't want to eat you. I could if I wanted to. Do you have anything more to wear?" Alden asked. She looked down at her clothing. Obviously not.

"Follow me, we'll get you something more appropriate to wear." Alden left the quarters with Becky close in tow.

Next, to get some page clothes. Alden smiled, he didn't expect teaching to be so fun.

It was funny how much kicking a rock actually did help when I was angry. Aside, of course, from the whole part about pain shooting up my leg. Wincing, I collapsed down onto the same boulder and began to rub my ankle, scowling down at it. Stupid Becky Stillman. Stupid Alden. Stupid Harris. Stupid Seraph who hadn't even noticed--not that I'd wanted him to notice--whatever it was that had... happened... last night...

"Finn."

A moment later, I cursed my survival instincts. If only I could've happily offed myself! I squeaked and jumped as Seraph spoke from just behind me, wondering how exactly he'd tracked me down. Squeaking? Since when was I squeaking, especially because of Seraph Belfast?

"'Lo, Seraph." I kept my eyes downturned, but felt my face burning. Cor, how humiliating...

"You had an interesting reaction to Becky's arrival."

"Yeah, well, ye'd have an int'restin' reaction too, if'n--if--" I stopped and shook my head; several strands of auburn hair fell out of my braid and into my face.

"If what?"

Why did he care, anyway? "We din't get alon'."

"...I see," Seraph said when I didn't continue. "Are you--"

"'M fine, Seraph!" I said, jumping up, fingers clenched at my sides. "'M perfec'ly fine! Don'--don' care 'bout Becky, or Harris, or--or Liam--or--"

Suddenly, I was throwing my arms tightly around him, sobbing against his chest, fists clenching the fabric at his back as I fought for breath. I didn't even have the strength of will to wonder why he affected me so.

Becky gritted her teeth and forced herself to look back at the dragon.

"Yes, sir." She could tell she was making all sorts of terrified faces; she'd never been able to control her facial expression. He just seemed so hungry.

"Don't look at me like that. I don't want to eat you. I could if I wanted to. Do you have anything more to wear?"

Twenty minutes later, Becky was figuring out the bright yellow tabard Alden had bought her. She had managed to get her head through the correct hole on the first try, which she found encouraging, but still wasn't sure which side was the front. Perhaps it didn't matter.

Becky tucked her sword into her new belt, and set off to find her new master. She found him, perched upon a roof, with a letter in one claw.

"Master?"

He looked down at her and made a noise like a small roar. Becky jumped, and stepped back quickly, before considering that it might have been a laugh.

"I'm ready, Sir, if you want ta teach me anything. Though I en't sure how, you can't exactly hold a sword, what with the claws an' all."

He snorted again, and flew down to land in front of her. Becky stepped back further to avoid his wings.

"There are other ways to fight. Come with me. We'll start right away."

Pleased, Becky followed him through to the camp to a place near the kitchens, where an large ax leaned against a shed.

"You take that."

Becky pointed at her father's sword, strapped uncomfortably to her hip. "That's okay, I've got this."

"What?"

"I've got this, Sir."

"No, no. Take the ax. It's more appropriate for what I've got planned."

Becky picked up the heavy ax. It took two hands. She wasn't happy about being forced to learn a new weapon from scratch; she'd much rather stick to swordsmanship where she knew at least the basics, but anything was better than nothing.

She followed Alden around to the back of the kitchens. He stopped, and gestured at a mountain of wood lengths.

"These need to be split before sundown. Come find me when you're done!"

"Right," said Becky, trying to lift the ax without losing her balance. "Yes, Sir."

Learning to fight is going to take longer than I expected, Becky thought, as she missed the first length of wood. The ax flew out of her hands and stuck in the ground. I can tell that already.

Alden moved away from the log pile.

That should take her the rest of the day, he thought. Now to business...

He stopped by the quarters and picked up Kira. She wasn't happy about being stuck in the officers quarters all day, but that wasn't going to be a big problem for much longer.

He knocked on the door to General Harris's office.

"Enter!" She was perched over her work.

"Ah, Alden! I see you brought Kira."

"I have a request for you, about Kira."

"What is it?" she lost the edge in her voice.

"If were about to enter a fight, then it would be best if she wasn't here when it happened."

"I agree. You want her put somewhere safe?"

"Yes. I have a friend who is in Javor who can take care of her." The falcon came in at that moment, dropping a letter on Harris's desk."

"Who is it?"

"Ria Pliara, in Tranquil. It's near Concordia. Do you have someone that can deliver Kira?"

"I do. Just leave her here and she'll be there in two days." She nodded at the falcon, who gingerly grabbed Kira and flew off.

"Thank you General."

"Don't mention it," she whispered. Alden nodded and went back to the officer quarters to wait for Becky to arrive.

Adrian woke up sweat drenched the covers. He had dreamt of his desertion again, except in this the person who he had spoke to screamed coward. When he ran all the bodies had screamed coward. He shook his head. What done is done he thought angrily they had lost the battle anyway He climbed out of the bed, seeing no one. He shook his head in disbelief and went to look out window. It was late in the morning. He punched the wall in frustration. No one had thought about waking him up. He was sick of people walking over him. He was no weakling. He quickly put his clothes on. Did he have any time to head to armoury he wondered?

He pushed door open roughly Adrian needed to get something to eat he realized, so where to first kitchen or, armoury? He was still annoyed no one had thought to wake him up. He stood outside feeling a breeze on his face then felt his stomach rumble. Looks like kitchen first then. He marched off in the general direction of the kitchen. As he was walking over, he started hearing obscenity coming from the kitchen. He quickened his pace “who ever they are he thought they do seem, pretty annoyed” As he got nearer he realized the language was coming from behind kitchen he could hear some of it too.
“Stupid dragon thinks ‘e so great.”
Adrian hurried “What was this about a dragon?”
“Thinks ‘e can treat me like a slave, thinks I’m a nuisance.
Adrian drew his sword “A dragon I must do something. Adrian ran round the corner, ready to strike the traitor. As he rounded corner of the wall, he stopped rigid. Round the corner was a young woman with sandy hair chopping wood. Muttering loud obscenity against this, supposed dragon. She turned to see Adrian gawking at her. She then quickly shut up and glared at him.
“Whatch ya want?”
Adrian stopped looking at her and slid his eyes downcast to hide his embarrassment (He had never been good talking to woman. It was mainly because of way he brought up. As a child, he had never been allowed, to talk with his Mum. His father always insisted he dedicate his time to becoming a Knight, but no one ever thought to teach him about love)
He then replied, “I was just wondering why you keep mentioning a dragon?”
She looked at him incredulously, “You know… Big thing with feathers, sharp claws, wings…”
Adrian took a while to register that. He then lifted his head up and laughed. "You mean Alden? He's no dragon!"
And how would you know that?" she challenged.
“Well I do travel with him after all.”
“Well then if ‘e’s not a dragon then what is ‘e?”
“A Griffin.”
“…You’re one of the elite ain’t ya?”
“What?”
She sighed annoyed. “…A mercenary.”
Adrian nodded “Yes… why you ask?”
“Because I’m going with ya. Harris told me to go with mercenaries.”
Adrian slapped his forehead mentally, “What?”
“Are you deaf as well as stupid? That tall fecker with the messed up eye told the griffin to look after me.”
“Right… you may as well know my name since we’ll be travelling together. I am Adrian.”
“Becky, now feck off!”
Adrian head off “What was her problem, he had tried to be polite?” He sighed hopefully that dream meant nothing, but something was bothering him about it. He headed to armoury dismissing those thoughts as paranoia.

Cyrus

This whole party has turned all romantic all of a sudden, Cyrus grumbled. Dodging human couples wasn't his kind of thing. He kept his eyes down as he escaped from the gaze of Carmenia, who seemed angry at him for breaking her and Henry from whatever they were doing. A few minutes later, passing tents and waking soldiers, he made it to the blacksmiths. They were already hard at work on what seemed like Seraph's equipment.

Cyrus grabbed one of the apprentices by the collar. "Can ye sharpen an axe, laddie?"

"Errr ..." the young man stuttered. "Err, I'm su-sure I can do that for you, sir."

"Good lad," Cyrus said, releasing his grip. He thrust his battleaxe into the young lad's hands and grunted. "Take good care of it. If I see one little scratch, I'll cut your bloody head off. I've killed hundreds of Goblins with it, and I'm not gonna see some careless idiot ruin that edge for me."

"Yes, sir, of course, sir." The young lad was clearly scared of the grumpy dwarf. He almost stumbled over as he walked away with the heavy axe in his hands.

Cyrus walked out the tent and back into the sunlight. He saw the tall, dark form of Sirloaz walking toward him.

"Where ye going to?" Cyrus asked.

"Blacksmith," Sirloaz answered. "Need some more arrows," the ranger added, then groaned, rubbing his head.

"What ye grumbling about now?"

"My head. Between that barbarian Seraph and your bloody Lorae, my head is burning like crazy," Sirloaz replied. The ranger looked just a little worse for wear. Below his eyes were heavy purple marks and his lip had split, leaving a dark cut standing out on the red surface.

"Ye've got some balls calling Seraph a barbarian! Look at ye! All those tattoes don't exactly make you look like a princess, do they?"

"Whatever," Sirloaz said. "I just know, one moment, when Seraph has his back turned, I'm gonna return the compliment."

"Don't," Cyrus said quickly. "It's not worth it. Let's just leave it for now. Besides, I don't want to be clearing up your mess!" Cyrus boomed out a loud laugh. He felt a good mood emerging.

Sirloaz

The ranger touched his nose gingerly, sending a shock of pain through his face.

"Thrice bedamned barbarian bastard son of a goat," he muttered. "Fecking Cyrus and his damned loare....never again."

More than a few times, out of the corner of his eye, he caught the soldiers snickering at him, and wanted nothing more than to level them where they stood.

But what Seraph said had gotten into his head. He had to keep himself in check, while they were here.

Then the dwarf stepped out of the blacksmith's tent, and Sirloaz grimaced.

After a few exchanged words, they ended up heading the to fletcher to get more arrows to replace those used on goblins and imps.

The dwarf left him alone for the most part, seemed merely content with walking in silence. In a camp of soldiers, nothing was more important than having a friend.

They reached the fletcher, and Sirloaz tossed the arrow he'd been holding into the seated man's lap.

"I need two hundred of these arrows made--same length, diameter, and fletchings. Right now, I need fifty of whatever you have that's closest to those in terms of length."

He didn't even bother to watch for a reaction from the fletcher, merely droipped a small bag of coins into his hand and walked away.

"What's got yer in a mood, then? Besides the whole...Seraph crushing yer shnoz, thing."

"What happened in the Duregar caverns...I'm worried about that."

"Aye, lad...Duregar are nasty creatures, they are."

"Not the Duregar themselves...what I did to them."

Cyrus had no reply to that.

"...Let's go get some food, lad."

Sirloaz didn't argue, and didn't mention any more about the caverns.

I couldn't find Seraph. The very fact that the one person on this expedition I could really trust, and in situations like this, talk with to think of a plan, couldn't be found, was distressing.

"He's probably out making nice with these humans, or...." I paused, a smile subconcsiously coming across my face, "...is with Finn" I thought. Oh well, if I was to regain my throne I had better start acting like a leader sooner or later, so I figured I'd have to start now.

I walked into Harris' office, unannounced and uninvited.
"You two," I said, pointing to aides and guards, "leave us, now" I said in a don't-test-me tone of voice. They promptly looked to Harris for confirmation, who waved them out.

After the aides and guards were gone, I went up to her, and sat in a chair opposite her desk.

"General, I have a plan. Let Alden scout one more aerial flight, to make sure they haven't mobilized, or at least, haven't begun moving this far north yet. If he tells us affirmative, that they have not yet broken camp, let me and my companions go on a preliminary diplomatic mission. Or, at least, Seraph, Alden and I. We will go to thier camp and talk to them face to face. I will try to get them to stop their attack, or at the very least, attempt to gain some 'converts' so to speak to our side. Because the more of my people I convince to help us, and by extension me, which by extension is the Elven kingdoms, of their own free will, the better. The less I have to coerce and kill my own people the better."

Harris stopped everything she was doing and stared at me for a long time. Her gaze was so forceful and exact it seemed to be penetrating my very soul. In that moment, I wondered if she had any other abilites beyond commanding men. After a long while, that seemed to be almost an hour, when in reality was merely a series of minutes, what seemed to pass for a smile for her crossed her face and she said
"As you wish, Valin. Take Seraph and Alden. But the rest of your company stays here, if for no other reason than as collateral. And be warned: they will be on their best behavior, or they will be put in the stockades."

I nodded my head in thanks as I got up to leave.
"Of course General. You have my word of honor." At that, I left.

When I left, I went to go find Alden. I needed to relay to him the news, in a manner that suited me best. I found Alden on the parade ground, doing one menial task or the other. Its a shame how quickly he was willing to placate and submit himself to others, I thought to myself. I walked over to him and said
"Alden, I have something I need you to do for me. I need you to fly south and observe the Elven camp for me, and report to ME first on what you see. After which point, we will both go and I will report you're findings to Harris. Can you do that for me?"

"Alright, Valin," Alden said, quickly. suddenly understanding perfectly. The intonation in his voice said it all. He understood what was at stake, and was going to do what is necessary.


I went about to finding Seraph again. I couldn't find him for a while, but instead ran into Cyrus and Sirloaz on their way to the fletcher's, as well as some girl, a child really, chopping wood and muttering on about some "dragon". Stupid humans.

Finally, I came upon the training ground of the human soldiers where a Drill Instructor was instructing some soldiers in the "proper" way to fight Elves. I stood there, watching for a while, before I couldn't stand the misinformation any longer.

"Excuse me, Sir," I said, while I walked into the middle of the training area. "But I think I can be of some help here."

I walked into the middle of the training circle, where three young warriors and a drill instructor stood. One armed with a sword, the other an axe, and yet another a spear. I drew my two swords.

"You see, Elves fight fundamentally differently than you humans do. You humans move and fight in tight formations all the way until the end of the battle, and as a result the whole thing is quite regimented and planned out," I said, continuing as I absent-mindedly swung my swords around in circles in the air, "however, if an enemy identifies a weakness and exploits that weak position, screwing up your timetables, organization and battle plan..." I said, continuing, walking around so all could see and hear me, "you have no clue how to react, and as a result, are easily overrun."

The Drill Instructor seemed as if he were about to protest, but I stared him in the eye and asked "Is there a problem, Instructor?"
After realizing that I was both serious, and right, he let me continue.
"Elves, on the other hand, yes, manuever and march and those sorts of things in units and regimental structure is still apparent in our armies. HOWEVER, once the battle is met, we are encouraged to act on spur of the moment decisions and to improvise, as such improvisation usually wins battles. Now," I said, stepping into the middle, and drawing myself into a fighting stance, "pretend that I am an enemy fighter that has somehow gotten to your flank or rear, or even inside the middle of your regimental block, for that matter---finish me off," I said, preparing to fight.

First, the man with the sword attacked me, running after me with a large overhead arcing slice. I easily stepped out of the way. He came at me again with a smaller arc, but another slicing motion. My smaller blade parried his strike. I side stepped him, and kicked him. He fell to the ground.

"Get up! You can't be on the ground in combat!" I said to him.
He got up, and charged after me, attempting to skewer me with his broadsword. I locked his blade inbetween my two blade--effectively immobilizing his attack, yet again. With a quick flick of my wrists, his sword went flying, and I sent him to his knees gasping for breath with a quick strike to his back with the hilt of my longsword.

The next one, the man with the axe came after me. I effortlessly locked his axe blade with my smaller short sword, and brought my longsword up to his jugular in what, in a real combat situation, would have been to deliver the coup d'grace.
"Get back behind the line. Mayhaps one of you're companions will be more successful," I said to him. As he retreated across the white chalked line marking the "in bounds" and "out of bounds" boundaries, the third man came at me with a spear. I jumped up, landed a few feet away, and as he thrust, sliced my longsword up through the shaft of the horribly made practice spear. He retreated back across the line without having to be told.

"Do you want a go, Instructor?" I asked the Drill Instructed. He replied in the negative, so I continued with my lecture to the men:

"So you can see, gentlemen, fighting, especially against such a skilled and nimble foe as elves, is more than just brute force and laying down a lot of cuts. Remember, elves are faster, older, and more experienced than you. You will need to find a way to counter those things other than brute force. Now, don't worry, I will teach you how before the times come when these skills will be necessary. But for now, remember this: battle, and more specifically, fighting effectively requires one trait more than anything else: finesse. If you lack it, you will lose, and you will die. Dismissed gentlemen"

They all went off their separate ways, and I went up to the instructor.
"I want to be notified of all traiing programs currently in place, and when training is implemented, and from now on, I will be approving or disapproving all aspects of training, including what is taught. Understood?"

He looked at me, perturbed, yet impressed. He said,
"Yes, sir."


"Good," I replied, walking off to find Seraph.

Carmenia

Becky Stillman, mused Carmenia, stealing glances at the girl as she chopped wood, wearing hideous mustard yellow clothes. Alden was certeinly enjoying the "burden" that had been placed upon his shoulders. Wings, actually. Dragon indeed...

Dusk was falling rapidly, and the constant noise dwindled as people turned in for the night. She was walking towards her lodging when she remembered she had lost something. A gold hair comb to be exact. She had brought it along with her and it was very special to her, something her mother had given to her.

She realized that it must have slipped out of her hair near the edge of the camp, where she had thinking earlier on in the day. Probably near the mossy rock...

Upon nearing the edge of the camp, she scoured the earth floor diligently, often bending down to inspect small mounds covered in pine needles. She had to find it!

Suddenly a familiar voice came from behind a large tree.

"Carmenia," the male voice whispered. Carmenia jumped slightly.

"Y-Yes?" she asked hesitantly, she knew that voice, and yet she could not connect it with a face.

"Walk slowly into the woods, and do not search for me."

Carmenia took a few steps forward, and looked around to make sure no one was watching. A strong pair of arms pulled her into an embrace and out of sight.

"Rio," she said breathlessly, gazing up into an Elf's handsome face. He gazed at her for a moment, then kissed her. To his suprise, she pulled away.

"Why have you come here, Rio?" she asked, a little too loud.

"Shh," He put a finger to her lips, "I need you, Carmenia." He said, tracing the outline of her soft mouth.

"I know there is another reason. Now what is it?" She said stubbornly. He sighed.

"Yes, there is. We need you to get information about the positions and number of the human army."

"The Elven army destroyed Sedgely." She said stated sadly, hoping for some contridiction from him.

"It was in our way," He looked deeply into her eyes, "You actually care about that, don't you?" He asked accusingly, but did not wait for an answer. Taking her shoulders, he shook her roughly.

"Your loyalty is to your race! You cannot abandon them. You would be a traitor. The humans are a plague and a disgrace to the soil they stand on." He spit out the word human like the word alone was some vile disease.

"Of course," she said darkly, "I-It will take time, though." Rio released his hold on her shoulders. He ran his thumb along her elegant jawline.

"I knew you wouldn't abandon us," He whispered, taking one long look at her before turning and disappearing into the darkness.

For a moment or two, she stared after him in the darkness, almost hoping it had all been some dream. But it wasn't. She hurried back to camp and climbed onto her bunk.

"Wha' teck ye sew lon'?" Asked Finn moodily. Carmenia was at a loss for words.

"I-I lost something, but I found it." She said shakily, quickly wiping away a trembling tear that had slipped down her cheek. Thankfully it was dark enough no one could see her silent tears.

How can I betray my friends?