Mystical Chicken's (untitled!) book

Emyll and Ika chibis! Their clothes aren’t quite right...

Wed, 27 Feb 2013 21:28:00 -0800

Emyll

Ika

Emyll and Ika chibis! Their clothes aren’t quite right but there wasn’t much to choose from. EDIT: Fixed Ika’s clothes, I didn’t see the tunic before. Still not QUITE right but better than before.

Emyll is post-wing-removal (if I even bother to keep the wings), pre-arm-loss. Ika’s hair should be lighter, but the next lightest color to choose from was white and that’s TOO light.

Made with ChibiMaker on DeviantArt.

another non-chapter update, sorry! okay so I got a “new” laptop, but it will still be a...

Thu, 27 Dec 2012 07:16:19 -0800

another non-chapter update, sorry!

okay so I got a “new” laptop, but it will still be a while before I can post anything more as I have to take the hard drive out of the Dell and transfer my files to this laptop with a file transfer USB thingy, I forget what they’re called exactly. Gonna probably be a few weeks before I can order one off Newegg.

also this blog has a new follower, hello new person whom I hope is not a spambot

aw jeez I haven’t posted on here in a REALLY long time I want to add another chapter but rn I...

Mon, 29 Oct 2012 07:24:06 -0700

aw jeez I haven’t posted on here in a REALLY long time

I want to add another chapter but rn I can’t even work on the story as the laptop it is saved on has been broken since May (dead DC jack) and I still need to get it fixed. (Right now I’m using my ancient slow-assed Compaq.)

it will probably be another few months at least, I need to save some money

I do have it on my external HDD, but I am not sure if it’s the latest version, plus the ext. HDD doesn’t work on this laptop very well (there’s not enough power in the USB port so the drive shuts off/stops spinning after a few minutes and there’s no way to turn it back on)

[ cloud overview ][ get your own cloud ]This is a Tumblr Cloud I...

Thu, 22 Mar 2012 18:48:41 -0700

[ cloud overview ]
[ get your own cloud ]

This is a Tumblr Cloud I generated from my blog posts between Jun 2011 and Dec 2011 containing my top 65 used words.

HOLY WHOA AN UPDATE WHAT Sorry, I’m still...

Sat, 10 Dec 2011 06:34:00 -0800

HOLY WHOA AN UPDATE WHAT

Sorry, I’m still (procrastinating) working on the next chapter, but this is what Ika looks like in my head, except green of course. And wearing medievally-type clothing. (Although she didn’t look like Beth at first—I had a general look for her but I wasn’t sure about specifics, but the first time I watched Leverage and I saw Parker I immediately thought “Oh my god THAT is what Ika looks like!”)

As for Vru, I still haven’t got a specific look for him yet. Emyll, I’m thinking maybe Lana Parrilla-ish (but blue, of course) but with messier hair.

Oh also while I’m updating I think I’m going to revise again (later though) and take the Mala’hekians’ wings off. Nobody ever asks Emyll what happened to hers, and they’re rarely used in anyone else who has them anyway. As for the part where Vru flies over the forest of Ersia to find Ika, he can just use the flying dust the boat came with.

EDIT: Oh btw the picture of Ika that I drew (that is the icon for this blog) was drawn before I started watching Leverage.

Just a note...

Fri, 26 Aug 2011 19:02:02 -0700

Next chapter to come up HOPEFULLY soon (I may or may not just be lazy), but I’m thinking about re-writing parts of previous chapters and taking out the Mala’hekians’ wings, as they’re hardly ever actually used and when Emyll escapes back to Mala’hek nobody ever asks her what happened to hers. For the part when Vru flies over the forest of Ersia looking for Ika I’ll just have him sprinkle the flying powder he got from Silut over himself (it should last long enough, I think).

Chapter 21

Sat, 23 Jul 2011 06:00:10 -0700

Just finished this chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“You may want to make yourselves comfortable,” said Ika as she leaned against a tree. “This is a bit of a long story.”

Taking her advice, Vru chose to sit on a mossy boulder, Kin-lat sat down on a stump, and Rorru chose a patch of ground covered in leaves, but quickly got up when she found them to be cold and damp. She ended up leaning against a tree as well.

“Are you sure you want to stay?” Ika inquired of Rorru and Kin-lat. “You already know this story, of course.”

“My memory is not what it used to be, and I believe Rorru may have been away at the time,” said Kin-lat. “Yes, I remember now—she was visiting a friend. So, we will stay and listen. I hope you don’t mind me translating intermittently for your sister. She never learned Mala’hekian.”

“Oh, of course not,” Ika said, “I’d forgotten about that. Well—like I said, it happened when I was not much older than nine hundred. Rorru and I still lived with our parents, as that age on Poru is still only a child, and Rorru is only a little more than five hundred years older than me—you remember what Kin-lat said about the women here having children only every five hundred years or so,” she turned to Vru, who nodded. “She, however, was old enough to stay out nights, which she did often, and she was, as Kin-lat said, visiting a friend that particular night. So I was alone in the house, except for my parents, of course.

“It was mid-afternoon when my parents told me they were going out to gather fruit and take a boat onto the river for fish. I had been left alone in the house several times before and thought nothing of it, and of course I asked them to bring me back some of my favorite—that sour fruit you don’t seem to like,” this to Vru, with a small grin. “So they both left, and the hours passed by. It began to grow dark, which puzzled me as it was not yet time for the sun to set. I looked out the window of our hut and the sky was completely black with storm clouds. I began to get a little worried, but consoled myself by thinking they were probably still picking fruit, that they couldn’t be out on the river in this weather. As I thought this, it began to rain—no, it was a torrential downpour. I opened the door and yelled my parents’ names, but the rain was coming down so hard that I could barely hear myself. I doubt anyone else would have.

“Clinging to some shred of hope that maybe, possibly, someone would hear me, I kept yelling, but it was to no avail—especially since it had started to hail, with flashes of lightning and thunder so loud I had to cover my ears. It had grown darker by this time as the sun had finally set, and the only thing I could see was what the light from our hut was illuminating, which wasn’t much. Both of my parents and Rorru were still away, and I was growing terrified. I wasn’t about to leave the doorway, however, in case one of them were to come back.

“The storm lasted for what seemed like a very long time, although it was probably only about an hour. I found I had actually fallen asleep against the doorway, and the silence woke me. The rain had more or less stopped, although trees were dripping; and the lightning and thunder had abated. I saw, however, that the hail had gotten considerably larger as it had fallen. Thinking my parents had gotten back, although wondering why they did not wake me up when they did, I ran to their sleeping quarters. There was nobody there.

“If I had been scared before, I was now absolutely petrified. I ran out into the night, calling their names, and then calling for Rorru. She, at least, could hear me, as she had been making her way back from her friend’s house, as she told me later on. I asked her if she’d seen our parents; she told me no, she hadn’t seen them since before she left. She said we’d wait until morning and if they weren’t back by then, we’d look for them.

“I wasn’t too fond of this idea but I went along with it. I went into my room and despite every effort to keep awake in case our parents came back, I fell asleep again.

“Morning finally came, although I slept well past sunrise. When I noticed how late it was I bolted out of bed and ran into my sister’s room. She was awake, pulling on her boots, and said ‘Let’s go,’ in Porun of course, and I knew what she meant. I told her I had to get dressed, so I did, and a few minutes later I came out of my room to see her standing in the doorway as I had been doing the entire night before.

“The ground was still squishy from the rain and even in my fear I couldn’t help making splorchy sounds in it, until Rorru told me to be quiet, she was trying to listen for something. Whatever it was, she apparently couldn’t hear it. She went into the forest where our parents had gone and I followed her. I wish I hadn’t.”

Here Ika stopped and shuddered a little. Resolutely she continued.

“Only a little way into the forest there was a fallen tree, and under it—” she couldn’t finish the sentence. She only looked at the gravestones in the clearing. “The lightning must have struck the tree while they were standing there,” she said, almost to herself. Louder, she continued, “We both ran back to the village and got Kin-lat. When he saw my mother and father under the fallen tree I didn’t know what he would do, but he only said ‘I will take care of you and your sister; and Ildra and Kur will be buried next to each other in the clearing in the forest near your hut.’ I was too exhausted to disagree, and I lived in his hut until you came to Poru,” she said, turning to Vru.

“Your sister didn’t know about any of—what you went through?” Vru asked, incredulous. It seemed impossible that over a thousand years could pass without some mention of that night to Rorru, but Ika shook her head.

“I was always good at keeping secrets,” she said, “and besides, I did tell her a little—only that I’d been up all night waiting for them. But I never gave her any detail until now.”

Kin-lat was, of course, still translating rapidly for Rorru. The elder girl looked at her sister and said something in Porun, and Ika translated for Vru.

“She says she’s sorry she didn’t know what I had really gone through that night, and she wishes I had told her more details before now,” said Ika, “and now at least she knows why I’m so afraid of storms, too. I never really was before that night.” She looked up, and noticed the light coming through the leaves was getting dimmer; the sun was setting. “We should go back,” she said, by way of wrapping up the story. The other three nodded, and those who were sitting stood up. Rorru and Kin-lat went ahead, but Ika and Vru stood for a moment looking at Ildra and Kur’s gravesite; then, very suddenly, Ika engulfed Vru in a fierce hug.

“I—what was that for?” he said, taken aback, but not angry.

“I’m just really happy I met you,” was Ika’s only explanation. She started to walk back to the village, and Vru followed.

Chapter 20

Wed, 20 Jul 2011 01:19:13 -0700

Okay, this is the last chapter I have so far. This chapter is finished, but right now there’s nothing after it. So it might be a little while before the next chapter goes up. (also: arrgh tumblr whyfor are you not taking away underlines with the strikethrough button like you usually do? :/)

CHAPTER TWENTY

It was, in fact, Rorru that they saw, and Ika gave a little squeal of delight and ran to greet her. The sisters hugged each other and began conversing rapidly and excitedly in Porun. Rorru was obviously asking questions and Ika was answering them as quickly as possible. Vru couldn’t make heads or tails of what they were saying; he had attempted to learn Porun upon first arriving on the island and meeting Ika, but he found the language too complicated. After a few minutes, during which there was much dramatic gesturing from Ika while she was talking (Vru thought she might have been talking about being captured by the Ersians), Rorru looked up and noticed Vru for the first time. She gave a little scowl and said something to Ika in a tone of voice which Vru thought she was trying to prevent him from hearing what she was saying, although he couldn’t understand her anyway. Ika looked back at Vru and then at her sister again, and replied in Porun in what could only be described as a pleading voice. Rorru sighed, scowled again, and after a pause, answered Ika in a tone of voice that clearly meant she disapproved of Vru but it was Ika’s choice to be friends with him. Ika looked at her sister for a moment then walked back to Vru.

“She still doesn’t trust you,” Ika said, switching to Mala’hekian, “but she said as long as you hadn’t hurt me, then she couldn’t really do anything to prevent me being with you.”

“Tell her I haven’t hurt you—not physically, anyway,” he said, as he recalled her walking in on him and the Artinga together. Ika knew what he was talking about and she pouted a little. But she continued.

“I did,” she said, “except for that last part. Well”—she looked back at her sister, who was standing with her arms crossed—“I’d like to see Kin-lat, you know I haven’t seen him since we left.” Vru thought this was an excellent idea, and he followed Ika to her grandfather’s house.

Kin-lat was, to put it mildly, ecstatic to see his younger granddaughter, and she and Vru fell all over themselves to recount all they had seen on their travels.

“…the first island we saw was inhabited…”

“…they were horrible, though…”

“…giant warriors, they had yellow skin…”

“…they smelled awful, too, at least the one who wanted to marry me…”

Here Kin-lat interrupted Ika. “One of them wanted to marry you?” He looked bemused.

“Yes,” said Ika, with a grimace, “but I bought some time by telling them that in order to have a proper Porun wedding, we both had to eat some gurrim fruit…”

“Gurrim fruit would have made them very sick,” said Kin-lat with a raised eyebrow. Ika had, rather conveniently, forgotten to mention to the Ersians that the fruits, even if they had found them, were mildly toxic. They wouldn’t have died, but they’d have been very uncomfortable for the next few days.

“I know,” said Ika with what could only be described as a sly grin. “Vru was imprisoned as well,” she continued, “but he escaped somehow and came and rescued me.”

“It was only luck,” Vru said, and he quickly recounted how he had managed to open the cage he’d been imprisoned in.

They told Kin-lat of the Iirsians and of the spell they were under, and of the Artinga. “He had to defeat it,” Ika said, “and he”—she couldn’t finish the sentence. Vru knew what she was thinking and he said only, “It put me under a spell. She actually defeated the creature.” He didn’t elaborate, and Ika gave him a small smile.

Next came the description of the island which was inhabited by “the little teleporting orange man,” as Ika said, not having found out the actual name of the island. “But there was something strange,” Vru mentioned, “he kept saying the name of someone I know”—He paused. Kin-lat looked at him expectantly, and he continued. “Her name is Emyll. She was imprisoned on the planet Dalah, but she has apparently escaped and managed to come back here, somehow. I don’t know how. Escape from Dalah is meant to be impossible—but the little orange man kept repeating her name to us. I don’t know if it was actually her name, or a word in his language.”

Kin-lat was listening intently to Vru, and spoke when he paused. “There was—another Mala’hekian who came here, by boat, several weeks after you had left,” he said. “I don’t know whether she was this Emyll you speak of, but she was looking for you. I gave her my boat—hers was dilapidated almost beyond repair.”

Vru thought for a moment. “What did she look like?” he said, almost as if he didn’t want to hear the answer.

“She was blue, like you,” Kin-lat said, “she had black hair, and—she was missing an arm. I distinctly remember that.”

“Missing an arm?” Vru raised an eyebrow. “Emyll had both her arms the last time I saw her. If it was Emyll you saw, she must have gotten injured on Dalah somehow.”

“Well, when I asked, she mentioned that a horse had stepped on her arm and it required amputation, but she didn’t say where she was when this happened,” Kin-lat reflected. “She didn’t stay very long. As I said, she seemed to be in a great hurry to find you.”

“That had to have been her, then,” reflected Vru. “We don’t know where she is now. And it’s not a good idea to go looking for her—she’s dangerous. She killed my former lovemate,” this to Kin-lat, as Ika already knew about that. “I don’t know what we’ll do if we happen to meet up with her again.”

“She did not seem dangerous when I met with her,” Kin-lat mused, “but appearances can, of course, be deceiving.”

“She may be less so, now that she’s missing an arm,” said Vru. “But she is very clever and manipulative; and no doubt she’ll find a way to use that to her advantage, should we meet with her again.”

“Well,” said Ika, “there’s really no use worrying about it right now. We should come up with a plan just in case we do run into her, but this planet is so large, I doubt we will. Ah!” Vru looked up to discern the reason for Ika’s exclamation of surprise, and saw that Rorru had chosen that moment to join them. She was standing in the doorway, and Kin-lat beckoned her inside.

Rorru spoke to Kin-lat in Porun, and the latter translated for Vru. “She says she wants to visit more with her sister,” the old Porun said, “and that, if you wish, you may join them. They are going to visit—” here he stopped and looked meaningly at Ika, who bit her lip and nodded. Kin-lat seemed to think better of it, however, and merely repeated that Vru was welcome to join the sisters if he wished.

Curiosity was getting the better of Vru and he agreed to accompany the sisters. They left Kin-lat’s hut and Rorru led the way to a small wooded area. They made their way through the trees until they came to a small clearing. There was nothing there—not that Vru could see, anyhow, except for two stones, approximately the same size, placed next to each other. Upon closer inspection Vru could make out writing on the stones, but it was in Porun and he could not read it. He turned to Ika for translation, but before he could ask her, he heard Kin-lat’s voice behind him.

“That is the resting place of my daughter and her lovemate,” Kin-lat said. “In other words—”

“Our—Rorru’s and my—mother and father,” Ika finished. She slowly walked toward the stones and crouched down to read them. “In this spot lie the bodies of Ildra, daughter of the Chief of Poru, Kin-lat, and her lovemate, Kur,” Ika read from the stones. “I was only nine hundred and seventeen years old when they died—little more than a child,” Ika reflected. She answered Vru’s bemused expression with “Don’t you remember? Kin-lat told you we live for a very long time. I’m somewhere over two thousand years old right now, although I lost count ages ago. My parents died suddenly, though; it was over a thousand years ago, but I still remember it very clearly.”

Chapter 19

Mon, 18 Jul 2011 19:04:39 -0700

I’m getting really close to the end of what I have so far, but I’ve got ideas for some more chapters. So after I think one or two more chapters it will be a while before this updates again.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Vru was under the black Death Ocean, searching frantically for Ika, who had just slipped under the surface. Oddly, he could see quite well despite the darkness, and then, looking down, he saw something strange. At the bottom of the ocean was a strange, yellow glow. And then he saw Ika, who was sinking towards it. No—she was being pulled towards it. She was making no motion of her own accord. Vru, who wasn’t being pulled in any direction, started swimming as fast as he could in her direction. As he approached the strange glow, it became brighter, until it was almost blinding. He could no longer see Ika, but that didn’t surprise him too much—he couldn’t see much of anything else, either. He knew, somehow, that Ika had been pulled to, or possibly into, that bright light, and he knew that he had to reach there as well. He was so focused on the light and on getting to Ika that he didn’t notice that his lungs were about to burst, that he needed air, and when he finally realized that he desperately needed a breath—

—he was there, inside the light. It was—dry. A dry place, under the water, as if there was a bubble of glass around them, like a reverse aquarium. There was sand under Vru’s feet, very white, very fine sand. There were trees as well, with large, colorful leaves, and they were shimmering somehow. Vru looked up, and whatever was keeping the water out was transparent, like glass, so that he could see the water around them.

He was so entranced by his surroundings that he temporarily forgot about Ika, but he was brought out of his reverie by a familiar voice.

“Vru!” it called. He whipped his head around and saw Ika, sitting on the sand not too far from him, seemingly perfectly fine except that she was a little wet.

“What happened?” Vru said. “I mean—what is this place?” He walked over and sat down next to her. “How can such a place be—under the water? And more importantly, how do we get out?”

“To answer your last three questions, I’m sure I don’t know,” said Ika, “but I can tell you that I felt myself being pulled. I wasn’t unconscious, but I thought I would die if I didn’t get a breath of air soon. I’m actually glad this place is here, wherever—and whatever—it is. This sand is warm,” she continued, almost as if she were noticing that aspect for the first time. Vru, whose feet were bare, could feel it as well. “And those trees! How are they shining like that?” Ika stood up and walked over to one of the trees, which had bluish-purple foliage, and began inspecting it like a curious child. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” she said, almost to herself.

Vru was on the verge of saying something when all of a sudden they both started, and looked at each other. They had both heard a sudden voice, but could see no one. The voice sounded as if it came from all around them.

“Mortals, how have you come to be here?”

Vru and Ika stood in surprised silence for a few moments, then Ika ventured to speak, although she stammered considerably.

“I was—he—there was a storm, and I got pulled down and—and ended up here,” she managed to say. “And he was trying to save me, and got pulled down here too. What is this place?” she finished, with a burst of courage.

Again, the voice, which sounded authoritative but, Vru noticed, not really angry.

“You should not be here,” it said (Ika noticed for the first time that it was female).

“But how are we supposed to go back?” Ika inquired. “We can’t swim back up to the surface, it’s too deep here.”

“I will send you back,” the voice continued, and before either Vru or Ika could say anything they were pushed rather unceremoniously out of the bubble and back into the water. They barely had time to hold their breath before this happened; but it seemed that no sooner did they enter the water than they were back up at the surface again, and what was more, they were close to the beach of an island.

“What—was that place?” Ika said, pulling seaweed out of her hair.

“I don’t know,” said Vru, “but since we’re on this island, let’s see if anyone is on it, because I’m hungry, and we lost the food ration bag.” This was true—it had been dropped during the storm, and sank. “Not to mention, we don’t have a boat anymore,” he continued, as if just realizing this. “Dammit, thirty-five hundred keiries…”

“Hey… wait a second,” said Ika. She walked over to a bush and squealed with glee. Several moments later she had in her arms several of her favorite sour fruits. “These only grow on Poru!” she said happily, “at least I’ve never seen them anywhere else…” She tore into one of the fruits as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks. “Want one?” she said through a full mouth.

“No, thanks,” said Vru, who’d never acquired the taste for them. Ika ate two more, then pocketed the rest. After she looked up from doing so, she gasped involuntarily, and stood staring at someone in the distance. Vru could just make out the person’s long, whitish-yellow hair and pale green skin. After a few moments Ika spoke.

“Rorru?!”

Chapter 18

Mon, 18 Jul 2011 00:17:24 -0700

A little bit of Emyll’s history. For those of you who read the last chapter—no, I didn’t skip one. >:D

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Emyll had always been clever, and when she was a child, she was actually relatively cheerful, but she had thresholds. At the ages of five and six, she would read the legends and myths surrounding the island she lived on; about the god and goddess, Fuloo and Akamure, who had created Mala’hek and its inhabitants. Emyll wasn’t entirely sure she believed these stories, even at a young age, but at least they were interesting and fun to read. She also read about, and was warned of, the black ocean surrounding Mala’hek, which her mother strictly forbade her to ever go near. Emyll believed this to be quite unfair, as nobody had ever gone near that ocean, so how did they know for sure it was deadly? She hatched a plan in her small young head and one night when she was sure both her parents were asleep, she snuck out of her room and out the door, and ran, barefoot, to the beach.

She stopped when she felt the cold sand under her feet. She began to get a little nervous, but then steeled herself. She wouldn’t be scared. It was only water. She could see the moonlight glinting off the small waves and could hear the sloshing of the water onto the beach. She moved a little closer, and the sand began to get damp. Nothing happened to the soles of her feet, so she got closer still, and when she was on the edge of the water, she stuck a small blue finger in the surf.

Absolutely nothing happened, except of course that her finger got wet. Emyll was surprised, and quite ecstatic, but then her happiness turned to fear that her mother would be angry with her for disobeying. Emyll dried her finger off on her tunic and ran splashily back up the beach, forgetting to dry her feet. Fortunately, the grass cleaned off most of the sand as she ran back up to the house. She noticed that the lights were on inside. Did her mother know—? She crept inside, tentatively. Her mother did know—at least, that Emyll had gone out at night—and was standing just inside the doorway.

“Where have you been?” her mother said, almost in a panic. “I thought the Dark One had snatched you.” The Dark One was the enemy of the god and goddess. Emyll’s mother was very given to believing myths and legends.

Emyll, who wasn’t entirely sure there was even a Dark One, despite being taught many times to the contrary, managed an “I’m sorry” through her exhausted breathing. “I—went out to see the moon. I could see it through my window, but not very well, so I thought I’d go out.” Emyll had a very deliberate way of speaking, enunciating each syllable carefully and never mumbling. Her voice was very crisp and clear. She was only six years old but she was already very adept at lying. Her mother believed her. Emyll let out a small sigh of relief.

“Well, don’t go outside at night again,” said her mother. “Why are your feet wet?”

Emyll hadn’t been prepared for this, but her clever mind worked quickly. “I stepped in a puddle,” she said. She couldn’t tell her mother that she’d been near the ocean, much less that she’d touched the so-called deadly waters. Not only would her mother not believe her about the water not being instant death, she would get into a lot of trouble. So she kept it a secret.

Emyll’s mother didn’t say anything else, except, “Well, go back up and get back into bed.” Emyll did, but thought silently to herself that she probably hadn’t better go back to the beach, even if she did know the truth about the ocean now. It wasn’t worth the risk. As the years passed, her memory of her discovery became dormant in her mind, and she eventually forgot about it.

When Emyll was seven years old, her mother suddenly became very ill and died, and a year later, too soon in Emyll’s opinion, her father took another woman as his lovemate. Emyll immediately distrusted her new stepmother. She was much too cheerful for Emyll’s tastes, and had an annoying habit of calling her “Emmie”—Emyll thought she could hear the “ie” being pronounced—and talking to her as if she were a very young child. Emyll resented being treated like this, but it was nothing compared to what happened one day when she was nine.

“Emmie,” said her stepmother one day when Emyll was eating her breakfast, “what would you say if I said you were going to have a new sister or brother?”

“My name is Emyll,” corrected Emyll automatically, “and as for what I’d say, I don’t know. And it would be a half-sister, or half-brother, wouldn’t it?”

“Well, yes, I suppose you’re right,” said her stepmother, in a tone that implied she didn’t like it when Emyll was right.

Emyll shook her little blue-and-black head. “I don’t think I’d like it.”

“Well, you’ll see.” Her stepmother kissed Emyll on top of the head—something else the girl resented. She rubbed the top of her head vigorously. Luckily her stepmother had her back turned and did not see this gesture, and Emyll went back to her breakfast.

Later that night, she was sitting up in bed, listening to the conversation between her father and her stepmother. She forgot most of it over the years, but one part in particular always stood out in her mind.

“That daughter of yours is going to be a real handful someday,” she heard her stepmother say, not jokingly.

“Well, she’s my daughter,” her father replied. “You’re just going to have to get used to her.” Emyll couldn’t help feeling a little glad that her father was defending her. She hugged her knees to her chest and tried to stay awake to listen to more, but she was very tired, and before she knew it, she had fallen asleep.

Chapter 17

Sat, 16 Jul 2011 00:36:05 -0700

This is kind of a long chapter. Also: Cliffhanger, yo!

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Look over there,” said Ika, through a mouthful of her sour fruit. “Over there” was a small lump on the horizon.

They had been rowing for three days since Vru’s apology, and were happy to see another island, even if this one did look rather small. Vru turned the boat and rowed toward it.

When they got there, Ika looked astonished. “Look at the size of these flowers!” she exclaimed. “We never had anything like this on Poru.”

“Nor on Mala’hek, either,” said Vru. “It’s odd how such a small island can have such large plants growing on it.”

“I don’t see any houses,” said Ika.

“That makes me wary,” said Vru, “because the Ersians didn’t have houses, either. At least, not out in the open.”

“I don’t think anything as horrible as the Ersians could live on such a tiny island,” Ika mused. “Wait—what was that?”

“What was what?”

“I saw something,” said Ika, “out of the corner of my eye. It was orange—There it is again!”

“Are you sure you’re seeing something?” inquired Vru. “Because I don’t see anyth”—He stopped, and whipped his head to the left. “No, wait,” he said, shaking his head. “I thought I saw…”

“What?”

“I saw something orange too. But only for a split second, out of the corner of my eye.”

“I told you.” Ika looked slightly smug.

“Do you think it could be people?”

“Only one way to find out,” said Ika. Louder, she called out “If anyone lives on this island, come out!”

The island was completely silent for several minutes. Ika was beginning to think that the flashes of orange had been their imagination, probably due to spending too much time on the ocean, when a tiny orange man crept out of the foliage ahead of them.

He stood in front of Vru and Ika and looked at them with his head cocked to one side. Then he began speaking very rapidly and in a high-pitched, squeaky voice.

“What is he saying?” said Ika, who was totally confused.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” said Vru.

The little orange man, meanwhile, was pointing at Vru and saying something that Vru thought sounded familiar, over and over again.

“Emyll, Emyll, Emyll.”

“Is he saying ‘Emyll’?” Ika looked worried.

“It… it sounds like it,” said Vru, who was turning pale. “She… she can’t have escaped. It’s impossible. It must be a word in their language, or something.”

But the little orange man kept repeating “Emyll” over and over again, and pointing at Vru while he did so. Neither Vru nor Ika knew what to make of it. Had Emyll escaped somehow? And if she had, had she been on this island?

“I don’t think he knows either of our languages,” said Ika after a bit. “I certainly can’t understand what he’s saying, besides that one word. He’s talking too fast.”

Vru was trying to get the little orange man’s attention. The tiny creature was jumping up and down on his short little legs, and he had added another word to his cryptic chant.

“Emyll here. Emyll here.”

Ika didn’t think Vru could have turned any paler, but he did.

“Is… is he saying Emyll was here?” Vru asked Ika. “Or is he only saying it because I asked if she was here?”

“He could be saying she’s here now,” Ika ventured to say.

“I… I don’t think so. This looks like a very small island, and I’m sure we would have seen her. Or she us,” Vru said, trying to sound casual. “I still don’t believe she could have escaped, though. It must be a word in his language. There’s no other explanation. Even if she did get out of the Dalahn prison, there’s no way she could have come back to this planet. The only way to get back is by chanting a magical phrase…”

“Do you think she could have learned it somehow?” Ika offered the only solution she could think of. She had no way of knowing, of course, that she was not too far off the mark.

“Who would have taught it to her? Not the Dalahns, that’s for sure,” said Vru. “Anyway, this conversation is pointless. Emyll can’t be back, it’s impossible. And there doesn’t look like there’s anything else of interest on this island, so we’d better be going”—

He stopped suddenly. The little orange man was looking at Vru and still repeating “Emyll here,” and suddenly he said “Vru,” which was what had made Vru stop talking.

“How do you know my name?” he said, forgetting that the tiny orange man didn’t know his language—or not much of it, anyway.

“Emyll here. Vru,” said the little man. He had a note of impatience in his voice. Clearly he was trying to get them to understand.

There seemed to be no denying it now. Vru looked at Ika and they both knew the impossible had happened. However she had done it, Emyll had escaped Dalah. And she was back on this planet.

“The only consolation,” said Vru after a bit, “is that before she was banished to Dalah, she had her wings torn off. So I have an advantage over her if I ever meet her again.”

“Why were her wings torn off?” said Ika, who didn’t have any wings to begin with.

“It’s the ultimate punishment on Mala’hek,” said Vru. “For truly reprehensible crimes.” Ika already knew what Emyll had done, as Vru had told her, so she didn’t ask any more questions.

“I think we have to go back to Mala’hek,” he continued, “But I don’t know which direction we should go.”

“I’d like to go back to Poru, if only for a few days,” Ika requested. “I haven’t seen or spoken to my sister or Kin-lat in months, and I think they must be worried about me.”

“If we go back to Poru, we can ask Kin-lat which direction we go to get back to Mala’hek,” Vru said. “He’s been there before. I hope he hasn’t forgotten.”

“Kin-lat has a very good memory,” said Ika proudly. “We Poruns usually do.”

“So let’s see,” said Vru. “We need to go back west until we see Iirs, then head south until we see Ersia—stopping there along the way of course”—Ika glared at him and he cleared his throat, feeling immediately guilty for his little joke. “Sorry,” he apologized. “If we head further south from Ersia we should reach Poru in a few days after that. How are we on rations?”

“I still have some of my fruit,” Ika said, looking into the bag. She handed it to Vru, who also looked inside. “I think we have enough to last us a while,” he said. “We should stop back at Iirs and get some more food, though. No gorfum though, that’s where I draw the line.”

Several minutes later they were back out on the ocean, which was eerily calm. Ika didn’t like it, as it had been calm like this right before the storm had hit after they’d left Poru. But nothing happened, and her tension abated, at least for the first few hours.

It was only when the sun got very low in the sky that she noticed something might be wrong. She pointed out to Vru that they hadn’t seen any islands at all; and Vru looked up and got a look in his eyes that meant he’d realized something terrible—“Oh, dammit, I’d had the setting sun behind us the whole time—we should have been going towards it.”

“So we’re lost?” Ika inquired, although it was plainly obvious that they were.

“I suppose we are,” said Vru. “I don’t know where we are.”

“Couldn’t you take some of that flying powder and raise the boat to a higher vantage point?” suggested Ika. “At the very least, we could probably see another island, even if it isn’t Mala’hek or Poru. Or Iirs.”

Vru reached for the small leather pouch of flying dust and reached in his hand, fully intending to take out a handful, but brought it back out again empty, and said: “There’s none left.”

“How could there be none left? We didn’t use very much,” Ika said.

“Yes, but I used some before coming to Poru, and there wasn’t very much in there to begin with,” Vru explained. “I suppose we’ll just have to keep rowing.”

“Well, I hope we find some land soon,” said Ika worriedly, “because I don’t like the look of those clouds over there.” They were huge and black, much fiercer-looking than the storm clouds they’d seen previously. Vru hadn’t forgotten Ika’s aversion to thunderstorms, nor his stomach troubles when in rough seas, and he hoped there were a few fulru fruits in the ration bag.

The clouds moved closer, blocking out what was left of the sun, and the wind started to pick up, and then to blow very hard; the waves rose in huge swells, tens of feet high. It was technically still daytime, but the clouds were so dark that it may as well have been the middle of the night. Ika was so petrified that she could barely move, and cowered down in the boat. She apologized shakily once again for her fear, but she really didn’t need to—this storm was the worst either of them had seen in a long time. It didn’t seem to want to let up anytime soon, either. The sun set, and the darkness became almost tangible; the wind and rain were driving, and it was starting to hail—huge chunks of ice came battering down on Vru and Ika and the boat. Ika shrieked and tried to cover her head with her hands to protect herself from the pummeling ice, but they didn’t make a very good shield. Vru tried to protect her as well, but the hail still hit her. The sound of it, combined with the rain and wind, was so loud that neither of them could hear the other. And then, quite unexpectedly, a huge swell came up from behind and turned the boat over.

Vru, whose wings were naturally buoyant, bobbed to the surface immediately, and searched frantically for Ika. He didn’t see her, and was panicking, when he saw her yellowish-white hair several feet away from him. His wings were waterlogged, so he couldn’t fly, but he swam toward her as quickly as he could, and then he saw her head slip under the black water.

Chapter 16

Fri, 15 Jul 2011 04:28:00 -0700

Haven’t posted in a few days. I think this is one of the shorter chapters.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Out in the middle of the black ocean, Vru and Ika were once again drifting idly along. The waters were surprisingly calm, and aside from a few fish they’d caught with Ika’s oar-pole, this part of the journey had been rather uneventful. Ika would reach into the ration bag every once in a while and eat some of her sour fruit, as well as the tart red berries she’d found out about on Iirs. They were both quiet. Vru knew what they were both thinking about, although he couldn’t remember actually doing it. Ika had told him what she’d seen him doing with the Artinga; and Vru was straining his mind to remember something, but all he could remember was the part just after Ika had tricked the creature into destroying its enchanted orb. However, he couldn’t shake an odd, uncomfortable, cold feeling. He didn’t know it, but it was part of the Artinga’s enchantment, which even its death could not break.

Ika had her head down, chewing mechanically at her tart berries, when suddenly Vru spoke.

“Ika,” he said.

Ika looked up, even though she didn’t want to. Even if it was a spell, how could he have betrayed her like that? She wouldn’t have fallen under the Artinga’s enchantment, of that she was positive. She hadn’t known it before she saw Vru with—that creature, but she had grown to love him.

Vru looked at her, into her usually-bright green eyes, which now were brimming with tears. He wasn’t used to saying this sort of thing, but it had to be said. He paused for a moment, and then spoke again.

“I don’t know whether I can truly convince you that I don’t remember what I did,” he began, haltingly, “but I am truly sorry for it.” He paused. “If you say you saw us together, I won’t deny it. But—I am very sorry, Ika. I can’t say anything more than that.”

Neither one of them spoke, or even moved, for several minutes. Then Vru felt her soft little hand inside of his. He looked down, and she was smiling, just barely. A few minutes more, and she spoke, scarcely above a whisper.

“I forgive you,” she said softly. A little louder, she acknowledged, “It was just a spell, after all.”

She sighed, and leaned her bright head against Vru’s shoulder. As she did so, he noticed the uncomfortable, cold feeling he hadn’t been able to shake was slowly disappearing, and was being replaced by a much more pleasant warmth, which seemed to be flowing through him like a current.

Neither of them said anything for several moments, although this wasn’t the awkward, uncomfortable silence of just a few minutes before. Then suddenly Ika broke the silence.

“Did I ever properly thank you for saving me from the Ersians?” she asked him, looking up.

“If you did, I don’t remember it,” said Vru, after thinking for a few seconds.

“Well, I wasn’t under the Artinga’s spell,” she said, “and I don’t remember it either. So, this is my thanks,” she said, and kissed him.

It was the first time she’d done so, and the warm, pleasant feeling that was flowing through Vru intensified, while the odd feeling that the Artinga had left behind disappeared completely, like an icicle thrown into a bonfire.

Vru reflected for a few moments as Ika lay her head on his shoulder again. She wasn’t like Gaira had been; but then again, he didn’t want her to be. Gaira had been rather timid when she was alive, and would never have been brave enough to even enter the cave, let alone save him from the Artinga.

“Hey, why did you forgive me so easily?” Vru inquired.

Ika smiled. “Kin-lat says that Poruns don’t hold grudges.”

“So you’re really not still mad?”

“If I were, I would have thrown you overboard.” Ika couldn’t help grinning. “Really, though, I knew you were under a spell; it’s just that it was so shocking, seeing you with … that creature, that I couldn’t help getting a little mad.”

“Well, it won’t happen again,” said Vru, truly meaning it.

“It better not, or I will throw you overboard,” Ika joked. “No matter how much you apologize.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s only one Artinga on this whole planet.”

“Before you came to my island you thought there was only one island on the whole planet.”

“Touché.”

Ika thought for a few moments. “We’ve already found two other lands besides Poru and Mala’hek,” she said, by way of changing the subject. “Do you want to try for a few more?”

Vru reflected that they didn’t have very much to lose. “We may as well,” he said. “Except I’m tired of going north; we’re bound to hit some ice soon if we keep going that way. Let’s head east for a while.” It was late afternoon, so Vru turned the boat so their backs were to the sun, and they rowed on.

*****

Emyll was drenched. The storm had brought with it a torrential downpour of rain, and her tunic was soaked and stuck to her skin in several places. The storm, luckily enough, had stopped quickly, but not before almost drowning the island.

“Now will you let me leave?” she said through her dripping black hair, which the wind had whipped all over her face.

Biko of course didn’t understand her, but he didn’t teleport in front of her as she made her way to her boat and got into it, so she guessed the answer to her question was “yes.” He did, however, squeak a few words to her as she pushed off the shore with one of her oars. Emyll guessed, correctly at that, that it was Shreekan for “goodbye.”

Where to now? Vru could be anywhere. Kin-lat had said they went north, but they could easily have changed direction at any point in time. She decided to go in whichever direction the current took her; she thought she had pretty much an equal chance of finding Vru that way as she did rowing.

The current was flowing west—unbeknownst to her, away from her quarry.

Chapter 15

Sat, 09 Jul 2011 23:28:22 -0700

Emyll discovers a new island, one that Vru and Ika don’t know about.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Several hundred miles away, Emyll was rowing with some difficulty, out in the middle of the black ocean. She had, as before, seen no land for several days. She was going north, where Kin-lat had said Vru and Ika, whoever she was, had gone. If Ika was Vru’s new lovemate— She began to get hot with indignation. She had killed Gaira, and she would kill this Ika, if it came to that. She didn’t know what Ika looked like, but judging from the looks of the other Poruns she’d seen, she guessed—correctly—that Ika would have green skin and whitish-yellow hair, which would make her easily recognizable, especially if they were on Mala’hek. Except that Emyll knew they weren’t, so she rowed on.

Four more days passed before she saw a tiny bump on the horizon. “Finally,” she thought. It had taken her long enough, again, to find land. She was nearly sure Vru would be on that island. She paddled toward it, slowly. It took her another day to reach it. When, finally, she did, she got out of her boat, and pulled it up onto the shore. She looked around. There were huge flowers on this island, and their scent was intoxicating. Emyll felt a little dizzy. She didn’t see any people, and wondered if the island was inhabited. She got her answer in only a few minutes, as she kept seeing flashes of orange out of the corner of her eye, and hearing rustling in the flowers and plants. But every time she turned to look, there would be nothing there. Emyll decided to speak.

“Hey!” she said. Immediately all the rustling she heard, as well as the flashes of orange, stopped. The island became completely silent. Emyll, who was rarely afraid of anything, started to feel nervous. But she spoke again. “I know you’re there, I can see you,” she lied. At this a small, pale-orange man, fully grown, but only about as high as Emyll’s waist, tentatively crept out of the bushes. He spoke very quickly and in a high-pitched voice, and in a language Emyll couldn’t understand. Actually, he spoke so fast that Emyll thought she probably wouldn’t have understood him if he had been speaking Mala’hekian.

“Slow down!” said Emyll, who wasn’t patient at the best of times.

The pale-orange man cocked his head and looked at her quizzically, then spoke rapidly again, jabbing a small finger at her accusingly.

“Whatever it is you’re accusing me of doing, I didn’t do it,” Emyll said, for once telling the truth completely.

The man didn’t answer, but pointed to a tree off in the distance, and to the ground he was standing on, and then to the tree again. And then, in a blink, he was gone, and Emyll heard him calling her—from the tree he’d pointed at. He’d gotten there in less than a second. Emyll was astonished, and in a flash the man was back at her side. Apparently these people, whatever they were called, could teleport anywhere they wanted. But if that were true, why had she never seen one before? Surely they would teleport all around the planet. Unless, as she had, they had been taught that theirs was the only island on the sea.

The pale-orange man pointed at Emyll’s left shoulder and said a few quick syllables. Emyll guessed he was asking what happened, but she didn’t know his language, so she pantomimed as best she could. She had difficulty pretending to be a horse, and even then he didn’t understand. Maybe there weren’t any horses on this island. It didn’t look like there would be. She gave up and decided to try to find out the orange man’s name, or at least where she was.

“Emyll,” she said, pointing to herself. The orange man pointed to himself and squeaked “Emyll.”

“No,” said Emyll, “I’m Emyll.” She pointed to herself and said “Emyll,” again.

The orange man brightened, seemingly getting it. He pointed to himself and said “Biko.”

Emyll asked where they were by pointing to the ground.

“Shreeka,” said Biko. Emyll wasn’t sure if that were the name of the island or not, but it didn’t look as if Vru were here, so it didn’t really matter anyway. But just in case—

She pantomimed rowing in a boat, trying as best she could to pretend to be two people. She pointed to her face, then to a blue flower, and the sky, to make him understand that one of the people was blue, like her. And then she pointed to some green leaves to try to convey the fact that the other person was green. “Vru,” she said. “Was he here?”

“Vru,” repeated Biko.

Emyll pointed at the ground again. “Vru, here?” she said.

Biko looked at her quizzically. Apparently he had no idea what she was talking about. Emyll began to grow annoyed.

“There must be someone here who can understand me,” she thought. “Why don’t you all come out where your friend Biko is?” she called out loud. If any of them had understood her, they’d come out.

She heard more rustling. Three more orange people—two women and one man—emerged from the vegetation. They, too, spoke in rapid, high-pitched voices. Emyll thought they sounded like a bunch of mice.

“Do you understand me at all?” Emyll said to the tiny orange people, who were whizzing around her and teleporting in every which direction until Emyll began to feel dizzy again. They didn’t answer her question, at least not in any words she could understand. She knew she wasn’t going to get anywhere with these people, if people they could be called—the tallest of them was no higher than her waist—so she decided to leave.

As she started to walk away, however, the one calling himself Biko teleported in front of her, blocking her path.

“Get out of my way,” she snapped, knowing he probably didn’t understand her, but wanting to be rude just the same.

Biko answered with more high-pitched, rapid syllables. He pointed to the ocean and shook his head wildly.

“What, the ocean? It’s fine. The water won’t kill you.” Emyll had learned this when the first boat she’d had had sprung a leak. It had been rather difficult to keep dry under those circumstances. She had been as surprised as Vru had been when he’d fallen out of his boat and not died. Not knowing about this, of course, she thought she had an advantage if she ever met up with Vru again.

She tried again to get past Biko, but every time she did he would teleport in front of her. Emyll was growing more and more frustrated. She had to get off this island and find Vru, but this little orange man was making it rather difficult.

“Why won’t you let me go, you stupid little”— Emyll snapped. Then she looked up and realized what he’d been warning her about.

Huge black clouds were gathering in the distance, and coming closer. Emyll could see a funnel cloud begin to form, and she felt the wind start to pick up. In minutes it was blowing so hard that the trees on the island were bent nearly all the way over, and Emyll’s clothes were whipping around her. She ducked and made herself as small as she could, while at the same time realizing why the people on this island were so small themselves. The Shreekans (she’d call them that, even though she still wasn’t quite sure if that was the actual name of the island) were teleporting all over the place, trying to avoid the gale-force winds. She would just have to ride out the storm, and then she would leave.

Chapter 14

Sat, 09 Jul 2011 03:23:05 -0700

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Ika, who was sitting in Ralhau’s damp house watching some of the gorfum melt, or look like it was doing so, on the table (it was rather mesmerizing), was wondering how Vru was faring. Although Ralhau had told her to stay with him in the village, she decided to sneak away and find Vru—and see if she could help him somehow. She didn’t like the feeling she was getting—whenever she got this particular feeling, she knew something bad was happening, or about to happen. She hesitated for just a moment—she was wary of disobeying the chief, but after a moment she knew she needed to go. She made her way through the path through the jungle, presently arriving at the cave mouth. After looking inside for several seconds, during which time she called out, “Vru?” and got no response, she ventured inside.

As Vru had, she had to let her eyes get used to the dim green light provided by the glowing moss, beyond the point where the light from the cave mouth ended. Traversing the cave, she also saw the orange glow of the torches in the Artinga’s den, and called out “Vru!” again. Still no response. She made her way toward the orange glow, presently arriving at the Artinga’s den, where the creature and Vru were on the floor. Vru’s tunic was off and they were locked in a passionate embrace. Ika’s eyes went wide.

“VRU!” she screamed in disbelief. Vru did not acknowledge her presence in any way—but the Artinga did. It stood up, quickly transforming from a young woman to a giant spider with fangs several inches long. It lunged for Ika. Vru had sat up, but he was still under the Artinga’s spell and did not recognize Ika. The Artinga spoke in a dry, raspy whisper.

“What should I do to the girl?” it inquired of Vru.

“Kill her,” Vru said dazedly.

Ika shrieked. “Vru! Wake up!” Vru did not respond, and the Artinga scuttled toward her, its fangs gleaming in the torchlight. There was only a small space in which to try to avoid those fangs. Ika dodged and ran, and ducked out of the way of the Artinga when it got too near her.

“Stay still,” rasped the Artinga, “it’s rather difficult to hit a moving target.” Ika was not about to obey this order. For several minutes she dodged, ducked, and ran; and then, on top of a shelf, she saw something.

It was a dark-blue orb, which looked to be made of glass. It was medium-sized, and Ika immediately guessed correctly that it was the orb the spell had been put on that Ralhau had told them about. If she could get that orb, she could destroy it, and—

Wait. No. Ithad to destroy it. But how? A plan began to formulate in her mind, and she ducked out of the way of the Artinga’s plunging fangs again, just in time. She quickly made her way over to the shelf and took down the orb. It was very heavy for its size, and she almost dropped it. She didn’t, however, and when the Artinga saw what she had in her hands, it rushed toward her, fangs bared.

Ika ducked out of the way just in time but left the orb in exactly the spot where the spider’s huge fang was about to pierce her flesh. The Artinga realized exactly two seconds too late that what its fangs were about to pierce was not Ika’s arm. Its fang bore down on the orb, cracking it; and a few seconds later, it shattered into thousands of pieces. The Artinga made a horrible screeching noise, and turned over on its back, its eight legs folded inward into its thorax. After a few twitches, it died. Ika stared at it and shuddered. Then she looked at Vru, who was holding his head in his hands.

“Where am I?” he said stupidly. “What happened? And… where is my tunic?” He looked around and finally located it in a corner.

“I’ll explain everything when we get out of here,” Ika said shortly. She was still a little mad at Vru, even though she knew he’d been under a spell. “Put that on,” she pointed at his tunic, which he’d picked back up.

He did, and they made their way out of the cave, where Ralhau was standing there waiting to greet them. “We knew you were successful,” he said, “because all the old men and women of the village immediately became young again, without having to go into the water. We will stay young forever without that orb.” He turned to Ika. “I warned you to stay with me,” he said. “You could have been killed.”

“I almost was,” Ika said, “but I’m the one who tricked the Artinga. He couldn’t; he had fallen under its spell.” Ika looked at Vru who was still a bit groggy. She explained how she had made the Artinga destroy its own magic orb, and Ralhau nodded sagely.

“Well, I admit I was wrong,” he said. “You probably saved his life, as well as our village.” Ika smiled for the first time since she had seen Vru and the Artinga together. By this time Vru had woken completely from the spell, and he looked at Ika.

“What did happen in there?” he said, truly not remembering anything.

Ika thought for a moment. “I’ll tell you when we’re on the boat again.” She followed Ralhau, who was already making his way back to the village. Vru walked behind her.

“Are you leaving?” he asked, when they arrived back at the village.

“I think we have to,” said Vru. “But we don’t have to leave right away; we can stay a few more days, if it’s all right.”

“Certainly it is,” said Ralhau, and so they did. The Iirsians held a ceremony to celebrate the breaking of the spell, and they ate gorfum as well as other things which did not look nearly as unappetizing. Ika, who loved sour things, especially liked a tart little red berry, and ate many of them.

On the day they decided to leave, Vru filled up the ration bag again, with some fruit that he liked, and Ika dropped in several handfuls of the tart red berry. Vru had decided not to take any gorfum with them—“it tasted all right, I guess, but I don’t think I could handle looking at it.” They didn’t have anything in which to carry it anyway—the bag would have leaked, and they certainly weren’t going to use the container that held their drinking water. They filled up that container with water from a small stream; and then they were ready.

“I do not know if there are any other lands,” said Ralhau as he saw them off, “but you were lucky enough to find us, and several other islands before us; so I’d wager that there are.”

Vru had to agree as he and Ika got into their boat.

Chapter 13

Thu, 07 Jul 2011 01:09:01 -0700

Since I’ve (finally!) started watching Leverage I keep imagining Ika as looking not entirely unlike Beth Riesgraf, only green.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ika and Vru were more tired than they’d previously thought, and they fell asleep almost instantly, although the Iirsian chief’s bedding was, as he’d told them, rather damp. They slept well into the morning; and when they woke up, Ralhau was standing over them, dripping from just having gone for his morning dip.

“Ah! You are awake,” he observed. “Do you want me to tell you what I had planned for you now, or do you want something to eat first?” He looked on some shelves and took down several covered bowls, out of which Vru could smell something slightly sweet and a little fishy. Ralhau uncovered one of the bowls. It was filled with water, and on the bottom of it were several medium-sized, greenish-black blobs. Ralhau plunged a purple hand into the water, and grabbed one of the blobs. He slapped it down onto the table. It made a very unappetizing “splop” sound, and slowly spread out as if it were melting. Ika looked at Vru, who was looking almost as green as she naturally was. Whatever that thing was, were they going to have to eat it?

“This is an Iirsian delicacy,” he said. “Gorfum. It needs to be kept in water until eaten. It is made up of millions of tiny plants, coming together to form one of these.” He pulled off a chunk of gorfum (with some little difficulty, as it didn’t break cleanly, but rather stretched into long gooey strands) and put it into his mouth. If Vru had looked sick before, he could hardly watch as Ralhau chewed up the food and swallowed it.

“Please, try some,” he said, handing the bowl to Ika. She made a face before quickly realizing that it might be construed as rude; then tentatively reached into the bowl and gingerly wrapped her fingers around the smallest gorfum she could see. It was very squishy and slimy and she almost dropped it back into the water, half from fear, half from it being so slippery, but somehow she managed to hold on, and she lifted it from the water—it seemed to melt into a blackish-green, thick puddle in her hand—and took a tiny bite. It was salty, but not unpleasantly so, and had the consistency of thick pudding. There was also a bit of sweetness to it to counterbalance the saltiness. All in all, for something that looked so horrendous, it wasn’t half-bad. Ika wasn’t sure she’d call it a delicacy, but at least it was edible. “It’s… actually pretty good,” she said, surprised. “Here,” holding out her hand to Vru, “go ahead and try it. It’s really not bad.”

After several minutes of debating with himself, Vru stuck a blue finger into the greenish-black goo, and took a tiny lick. As Ika had, he found himself liking it, despite his misgivings about it just a few minutes before. They both took another gorfum from the bowl and ate the whole things this time. When they had finished, Ralhau spoke.

“As you already know,” he began, “we Iirsians must immerse ourselves in water at least every twenty-four hours, or we will die. But what you do not know is that this is a result of a curse.” He paused to make sure they were paying attention. “In the middle of this island is a cave; and in that cave is an orb which has had a spell put on it. It is this orb which is the cause of our predicament. It must be destroyed, but it is also guarded by a fierce creature, called the Artinga, which can shape-shift into anything it pleases. Its most dangerous form is that of a beautiful young woman.”

Vru looked moderately confused. “Why would that be dangerous?” he asked.

“When the Artinga is in that form, any men—and even a few women—who lay eyes on it will fall instantly in love with it and forget their mission,” Ralhau explained. “And everything else,” he added. “Anyone who looks at the Artinga in that form will not want anything except to be with it. We have already lost several young hunters because of it.”

“I know where you’re going,” said Vru. “You want me to try to destroy this orb.”

“Not you.” Ralhau closed his eyes. “The orb must be destroyed by the Artinga itself. It is the only way the spell will be broken. You only have to find a way to get the Artinga to destroy its own creation—for it created the orb,” Ralhau said.

“I’m thinking that’s easier said than done,” mused Vru. “But I will do it. Show me where this cave is located.”

“Follow me.” Ralhau started walking up a path worn through the dense vegetation. Vru and Ika followed. After several minutes, they came to the mouth of a large cave.

“The orb is in there,” he said, “as is the Artinga. The walls are covered with a glowing moss, so you will not need a light, which is good, as we have no torches anyway. Remember not to look at the Artinga if it is in the form of a young woman.” He turned to Ika. “You will stay with me,” he said. “It is too dangerous for you in there.” Ika started to argue, but then decided that arguing with a chief was probably not a good idea, and followed him out of the jungle.

Vru was inspecting the cave from its mouth. It looked pitch-dark, but that was probably only because his eyes weren’t adjusted to the blackness yet. He tentatively stepped inside and walked forward. The light from the cave mouth extended for a few hundred feet, then it was black. But not entirely so. As Vru’s eyes adjusted, he noticed a faint green glow on the walls, which gave him just enough light to see by. He wandered through the cave, not entirely sure where the orb or the Artinga were located, and after a while he began to notice it was getting slightly brighter. Over to the right, he saw that the walls were flickering with an orange glow, and he decided to venture over in that direction. Not knowing if the Artinga was nearby, or if it was, what form it was in, he was very tentative. Unfortunately, the Artinga was nearby—very much so—and what was worse, it had seen Vru and immediately assumed its most dangerous form. As Vru looked into the den that he’d come across, lit by torches in sconces on the walls, the Artinga emerged from its hiding place. Before he could recall Ralhau’s warning, he had looked the Artinga straight into the eyes—and could not stop staring.

Standing before him was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Her skin was a pale lavender color; her eyes were large and a deep bluish-purple; her hair was long, silky, and jet-black; and she had a sly, seductive smile on her violet lips. Vru was transfixed. The Artinga walked gracefully over to him and stroked his cheek with a slender finger.

“Welcome,” it said, in a soft, sweet voice. “I have not had visitors to my home in quite some time.” It kissed Vru on the lips. Immediately Vru forgot everything—his mission, his journey, where he was, how he had gotten there, even Emyll and Ika. He had even forgotten his own name. All he knew was that he wanted to be with this beautiful creature until he died.

He had fallen completely under the Artinga’s spell.

Chapter 12

Wed, 06 Jul 2011 04:31:31 -0700

CHAPTER TWELVE

“How long do you think we’ve been out here?” Ika said. They were back on the ocean. Escaping the Ersians had been challenging. The warriors were bulky-looking, but they were also quick and agile. But they had no wings, so Vru had held Ika in his arms and flew up over the trees, scanning the shoreline below for the Golden Bird. Upon locating it Vru swooped down; and they pushed off the shoreline and Vru rowed as fast as he could away from there.

“I don’t know,” said Vru. “And I don’t know what we’re going to do about food, either. We’re nearly out of fruit.” Vru looked in the pouch holding their rations; there were only two fulru fruits left, and one of the sour fruits that Ika liked.

“I wish they’d been friendly!” Ika said of the Ersians.

“Well, we can’t do anything about that.” Vru thought a moment. “Emyll was evil, but not as bad as they were.”

“Did you notice there were no women on that island?” Ika observed.

“They probably have all the women locked up in cages somewhere,” joked Vru.

“Don’t joke about that. That was frightening,” Ika shuddered.

Vru apologized. “So,” he said presently, “we’re nearly out of food, and water. And of course we can’t drink seawater. So what do you propose we do?”

“We could try to catch fish,” said Ika.

“You know the legends. There are no fish in this ocean.”

“Well, there might be. Remember, the legend that said the ocean would kill you if you touched it was false.”

“Yes,” said Vru. “Well, I suppose it can’t hurt to try. But what are we going to catch them with?”

“Let me see one of the oars,” said Ika, who was busily pulling several threads out of her clothes. These she tied together to make one long string, which she then tied onto the end of the oar Vru handed her. She wondered what she could use as a hook, and asked Vru if he had anything sharp. Vru looked in the bag of rations and noticed one of the fruits still had a stem attached; and that stem had long, sharp spines on it. It was better than nothing, and Ika snapped off one of the spines—which itself, luckily enough, had tiny barbs on it—and tied it onto the end of the string. Reaching into the bag of rations, she pulled out the sour fruit, tore off a chunk and stuck it on the end of the makeshift hook. Then she dropped it into the water.

“Now we wait,” she said.

Nothing happened for about twenty minutes. Neither of them even spoke. Then suddenly Ika’s makeshift fishing pole jerked toward the water.

“I think we got one!” she said excitedly. She hurriedly pulled up the string, and on the other end was—a fish!

“So that legend was false, as well,” Vru said. “I don’t care if we can’t cook it. I’m so hungry I could eat a worble’s egg.” Worble eggs were said to be just about the worst-tasting thing on Mala’hek.

Ika, who was trying to hold down the cold, wet, flopping fish, asked Vru if he had a knife.

“No, but I have a sword,” said Vru.

“Well, try to cut off the fish’s head,” said Ika, “but try not to cut off mine in the process.” Vru unsheathed his sword and deftly chopped off the head of the fish. The fish gave one final flop and then lay dead.

“Well, shall we eat it?” said Vru.

Ika had suddenly lost her appetite. “You go ahead,” she offered. “I think I’ll just eat the rest of this fruit.”

Vru ate the fish raw after cleaning it. It had a soft, slightly rubbery texture and tasted a bit sweet.

“This isn’t too bad,” said Vru with a full mouth. “Sure you don’t want some?”

“Yeah,” said Ika. “I’m sure.” She turned away in disgust. “I have to admit I never really liked fish anyway.” She gnawed away at her sour fruit. Vru finished his fish; and after that he was satisfied.

“Obviously we can’t go back to Ersia,” he mused, “and not back to Poru or Mala’hek either”—

“Why can’t we go back to Mala’hek?” Ika wondered. “I’ve never been there, as you know. Do you still want to search for new lands? We are running out of rations.”

“Well,” said Vru, “I thought you’d want to keep searching. If you want to go back to Mala’hek, though, we could go back—but I have no idea in which direction it lies,” he admitted.

Ika thought a moment. They had just about an equal chance of finding another new land as they did of finding Mala’hek again; so she decided to take one more chance.

Vru was rowing, as per usual, and he’d only been rowing for two more days (during which time they’d caught four more fish with Ika’s makeshift oar-pole) when he spotted a small island in the distance. “I can’t believe it,” he mumbled to himself. “We’ve found another island. And so soon, too.”

“It looks too small to be inhabited. And if it is, if the people are anything like the Ersians, we’re getting out of there as soon as possible, understand?” Ika had put her foot down.

“Well, let’s row over there and see,” said Vru. The island was so close that it only took them a few more hours. When they reached the shoreline, they tentatively got out of the boat and quietly snuck onto the sand. There was a thick jungle in the middle of this island, and obviously it was inhabited, as there were several makeshift shelters dotting the perimeter—“the locals must really like the beach,” Ika said.

“Hello?” called Vru.

“Hey!” whispered Ika fiercely. “What do you think you’re doing? They might be like the”—here she stopped, and noticed that one of the island natives was coming out of his shelter.

The native, who had purple-ish skin (“Goddess Akamure, are all the people of this planet each different colors?” thought Vru), slowly approached Vru and Ika. He looked extremely old, and both Ika and Vru suspected—and they were right—that he was the chief of these people.

He spoke slowly, in Mala’hekian. “Why have you come to this island?”

“We are not enemies,” said Vru. “I am Vru, of Mala’hek, and this is Ika of Poru.”

“Ah, a Porun. I have not seen one of those in four thousand years,” said the chief. “Does she know the Iirsian tongue?”

“I don’t,” said Ika, “but I do know Mala’hekian, so you can speak that.”

“Yes,” said the chief. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Ralhau, chief of the Iirsians; and this island is called Iirs. We are connected to the water; we cannot go long without being near or touching water, or we will die. I myself am beginning to feel quite dried up.” With this, he slowly walked to the edge of the ocean, and dove under. When he came out again, his appearance had changed from a decrepit old man to a vital youth. Even his voice changed when he spoke.

“You see,” he said. “I am over eight thousand years old; but as long as we Iirsians regularly touch water, we will never die. This is why all the houses are built near the shoreline.”

“How long does it take without water before you die?” Vru asked.

“Only twenty-four hours,” said Ralhau. “I was on hour seventeen.”

“It’s strange,” said Vru thoughtfully, “that our people’s legends say that this ocean is deadly, and yet you can’t survive without it.”

“And yet you are out on the ocean as if it were merely bathwater. Are your legends true?” Ralhau inquired of Vru.

“No, they’re not,” Vru answered. “I found out first-hand, when I fell out of my boat before coming to her island.” Vru tipped his head sideways in Ika’s direction. “I wasn’t even so much as harmed by the ocean.” He didn’t mention the suede boots.

“Well,” said Ralhau, “if you truly mean us no harm”—

“We don’t, I can assure you,” said Ika. “We just escaped from an island called Ersia…”

Ralhau’s eyes grew wide. “You managed to escape the Ersians?” he said incredulously. “Nobody ever escapes them!”

“We did,” said Vru simply. “One of them wanted to marry her, and she wasn’t having it.”

Ika nodded. “He was so… ghastly,” she said, with a shudder.

Vru continued. “I managed to escape using a stick to grab the keys to my cage,” he said, “and then I flew over the trees and saw where they were keeping Ika; and I went down and untied her. Some of the Ersians charged at us, but I managed to grab her and fly away just in time,” he finished.

Ralhau, who had looked astonished before, looked simply flabbergasted now. “Nobody has ever escaped the Ersians,” he whispered. “They are a race of fierce warriors who imprison their women and children and think the former are only good for mating. Did you see any women or children on the island?”

Vru and Ika had already noticed, of course, that there were no women, but until Ralhau had said something they hadn’t noticed that there had been no children. And Vru had been right, even though he had been joking, when he said that the women were probably locked up.

“Yes,” said Ralhau, “to them, children are useless until they are old enough to fight.”

“Fight whom?” said Vru, although he thought he knew the answer already.

“Whoever trespasses on their island,” Ralhau said. “Anyone who lands on their shores, whether friendly or not, is immediately locked up or killed. They don’t tolerate any foreigners.”

Vru looked at Ika, and neither one of them had to speak to know what the other was thinking. Locked up or killed. Considering the circumstances, they had been lucky. It was probably only because of the Ersian who wanted to marry Ika that she had been let live, and as for Vru, the only thing he could think of was that he probably wasn’t worth killing.

“Fortunately,” continued Ralhau, “we are not like that. If you don’t mind me leaving every few hours to go into the water, you are welcome to stay at my hut. It’s small, but it’s really rather comfortable—if a bit damp for you,” he added as an afterthought.

“We have nothing with which to pay you,” admitted Vru.

“Immediate payment is not necessary,” said Ralhau, “but I’ve thought of something I’d like you to do for me. For the whole village, really,” he continued.

“And that would be…?”

“I will tell you tomorrow. Right now, I can see that you two are exhausted, and must get some rest immediately. My home is this way. Follow me.” With that, he turned and started walking towards the tiny huts near the shoreline.

Chapter 11

Wed, 06 Jul 2011 04:09:04 -0700

This is a fairly short chapter, so I think I’ll post one more after this. Also, I think I’ll go back and tag posts with characters and places that appear most in the respective chapter.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

For three days Emyll had been rowing in her tiny, decrepit boat, which had sprung a leak on the second day. Emyll plugged this with a bit of torn cloth from her tunic. Using only one arm to row proved difficult, but not impossible. Now all she had to do was figure out where hewas. Where could he have possibly gone? Emyll knew of no other lands besides Mala’hek. As a child, she had been taught that there weren’t any other lands. Either that was wrong, or Vru was still out on the ocean, or he’d drowned. Left, right, stroke, stroke. Emyll seemed to be getting nowhere—of course, this was an illusion perpetrated by the vastness of the ocean. She scanned the surface, looking for anything out of the ordinary, but saw nothing. Still, she kept rowing. Two more days passed, then three, then five, and still nothing. The bread, which had been half-stale to begin with, was now completely rock-hard, and every time Emyll tried to eat it she had to worry away at it with her incisors. And the water was nearly gone. She knew she had to find land soon—any land, it didn’t matter whether Vru was there or not—before she died.

The gods seemed to be smiling on Emyll, as she encountered no inclement weather, save for one day when the sky was gray, during the nearly two weeks she’d been on the water. This was of course a good thing. The little boat probably couldn’t have handled a sprinkling of rain, let alone a full-blown storm. Damn that Silut for selling her the worst boat on the lot! He could have let her pay him back later.

All this time that Emyll was on the ocean, she had not seen even one tiny island. She was beginning to think that maybe the legends were right; maybe there really was nothing out there. But then something made her turn her head to the right, and she saw it. Land. It was far away; a grayish-blue, blurry haze just above the water; but it was there. She turned her small vessel toward it and rowed frantically. Her bread was nearly gone—and what was there was mostly moldy—and her water, what was left of it, was starting to smell stagnant.

It took her another day and a half to reach the shoreline. Having not stood up or walked for more than two weeks, she staggered out of the boat and collapsed on the hot sand. At this point Emyll didn’t care where she was or who inhabited this place. She was hungry and she was going to find something to eat.

After resting for a while, she tentatively stood up, brushed the sand off her tunic, and started walking along the beach. Suddenly she thought she could smell something—like meat cooking. She sniffed. It was meat! Exhausted as she was, she followed her nose to the smell.

Three green-skinned, yellow-haired people were surrounding a fire, each roasting his or her own chunk of poor departed beast. Emyll stopped short. Antagonistic as she was, there was a part of her that didn’t like butting in on other people’s business, especially people who looked so—strange—as this.

The oldest-looking man stood up. “You have blue skin,” he said. “Are you also a Mala’hekian?”

Emyll gasped in shock. How could he know about Mala’hek? Unless—

The old man spoke again. “I can see you are confused,” he said. “This is Poru, and I am Kin-lat. Mala’hekian is not my native tongue, but I have learned it, and I can see that you have blue skin like Vru”—

Emyll rushed over to him. “Vru!” she said. “Is he here?”

“No,” Kin-lat replied, “he and my granddaughter, Ika, left this land several weeks ago, to see if they could find new lands. I don’t know if they ever found any, but I seem to recall they were going to the north. You are welcome to stay here if you”—he never finished this, as Emyll, forgetting her hunger temporarily, was already rushing back to her boat.

“Wait!” called Kin-lat. “Are you not hungry? There is plenty of meat to go around, as well as some fruit.” At this Emyll slowed down and then turned back. She wanted to leave; but then she remembered she washungry, and that meat did smell good. One of the Poruns handed her what looked like the drumstick of a chicken; and Emyll ravenously tore into it.

“If you cannot stay, you can take some meat with you if you are still going to look for Vru,” said Kin-lat. Vru himself had never told Kin-lat or either of his granddaughters about Emyll while on Poru, not seeing any reason to, as he never thought Emyll would escape Dalah. So they had no reason to be wary of her. “There is some fruit, too,” he continued. “Take some fulru fruit; it will help if you get seasick.”

“I don’t get seasick,” Emyll said through a mouthful of meat.

“Well, take some anyway, just in case,” Kin-lat said.

“It’s really been great, this little get-together,” Emyll said, licking her fingers, and not sounding at all sincere, “but I really have to go. I’ll take some more meat though”—she stuffed a few more “drumsticks” into her tunic pocket—“and some of that ful-something fruit.”

“I thought you said you didn’t get seasick,” Kin-lat said. The other two Poruns, who did not speak Mala’hekian, had said nothing this entire time, but simply stared at Emyll. Emyll herself, who had temporarily forgotten about her missing arm, wondered about this, then she looked down at her left shoulder and knew. Kin-lat asked her what happened.

“Equestrian accident,” she said laconically.

“Meaning…?”

“A horse stepped on my arm and crushed it, and I had to have it amputated. Now if we’re done with our happy little meeting, I reallyhave to go.” She was lapsing; she must remember to remain “friendly” and not arouse any suspicion. But if the Poruns were suspicious, it didn’t show. Kin-lat only said:

“Well, I for one hope you can stay; but if you must leave, you must. As I said before, Vru and Ika headed north. Wait—you’re not going to leave in that?” Kin-lat pointed toward Emyll’s battered, leaky boat.

“It’s the only boat I have,” said Emyll.

“I have a better one,” Kin-lat offered. “Come with me, and I will give it to you. Free of charge. In fact, I can take it as a trade for that one.”

Emyll was genuinely shocked, but she said nothing, and followed Kin-lat to his house. Outside, leaning against the side of the house, was a boat, considerably larger than the one Emyll had.

“Go and get me the boat you have,” Kin-lat said to Emyll, “and I will give you this one.”

She couldn’t believe her luck. Ignoring the fact that she was still tired, she ran back to her boat, pulled it up out of the water, and dragged it to Kin-lat. It left a long trail in the sand.

Kin-lat of course knew that Emyll could not carry or drag the larger boat back, with only one arm—she was having enough trouble with the boat she had—so he called two male Poruns to help get the new boat into the water. They said nothing as they each carried an end of the boat over their heads to the water. As soon as they were there, and had put the boat in the water, Emyll stepped inside and grabbed one of the oars she’d left on the beach beside the old boat. And off she went.

Chapter 10

Tue, 05 Jul 2011 03:36:00 -0700

CHAPTER TEN

Not knowing that Emyll was only a few hundred miles away, on the same planet, Ika and Vru were still rowing northward, not having found any land for several days. Oh, sure, there were small islands here and there, but they were obviously uninhabited by anything or anyone but small crabs. Vru wished he could eat some of the crabs, but they had no way to cook them.

They were getting very tired. Being on a boat and seeing nothing but black water for days on end gets rather monotonous very quickly. Ika spent most of her days sleeping, saving her energy. Vru occasionally woke her for her to take her turn rowing, and then he slept. All in all, it was very boring.

After several more days, all of a sudden Vru looked toward the horizon and saw a bluish haze just above the water. He blinked—he almost couldn’t believe it. He turned to Ika, who was sound asleep.

“Ika! Ika, wake up!” he said.

Ika groggily lifted herself up on one arm. “What is it?” she asked.

“Look,” said Vru, pointing.

“By the god Fuloo,” said Ika. “Can it possibly be…?”

“Looks like land,” said Vru. “We’re going that way now, obviously.”

“I hope it’s inhabited,” said Ika. “We’re running low on food and water.”

“I hope whoever inhabits it is friendly,” worried Vru.

“Well, we can worry about that when we get there,” said Ika, who did not, of course, know the earthly expression “let’s cross that bridge when we come to it,” or she probably would have said that.

Vru rowed toward the land, and after several hours, they finally got there. They got out of the boat and looked around. There didn’t seem to be anyone around, and Vru was about to tell Ika “Looks like this place is deserted, after all” when all of a sudden they both heard a rustling in the forest just ahead of the beach.

Several eight-foot-tall men with yellow skin, the same color as a dandelion, in warrior garb, came barging out of the forest, wielding swords, bows-and-arrows, spears, and other weapons. They surrounded Vru and Ika and each pointed his weapon at them. Ika screamed. One of the warriors thrust his spear in her face and demanded, “Who are you? State your business!”

Vru swallowed and couldn’t speak. A warrior held up his bow in Vru’s face, and shouted “You’d better answer King Gulah’s question!”

“You’re a … king? Wow, I didn’t notice that,” said Vru, looking at the man who had spoken first. He wasn’t dressed differently than any of the others, but now that Vru looked, he noticed that this King Gulah was slightly taller than the rest of the men.

“Silence! You dare to mock me?” King Gulah was obviously not happy.

“I—no! I didn’t mean—it’s just that you don’t look different from—from them,” Vru stammered, waving his hand toward the rest of the warriors. He quickly counted about nine of them, plus the king, which made ten.

“I’m almost a foot taller!” said the king.

“Yes! I notice it now,” flattered Vru, although he thought to himself that the king wasn’t any more than about three inches taller than the tallest warrior.

Ika meanwhile had been cowering on the ground, not daring to move, until one of the warriors said in a gruff voice, “Who’s the girl?”

Ika looked up. “I’m Ika,” she said, “from Poru.”

“I’m Vru,” began Vru, “and I’m from”—

“Silence! Nobody asked who you were,” said King Gulah.

Vru had no reply to this. The King and the warriors looked over Ika, who cringed to have such beastly creatures near her.

“You’re a pretty little thing!” one of the warriors said. “How about you come home with me and we’ll get married, what do you say?”

“No!” Vru rushed forward, and two of the warriors restrained him. They were considerably stronger than Vru and try as he might, he could not break their grasp. The warrior who’d demanded Ika marry him grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her behind him. She kicked and screamed all the way.

“Where are you taking her?” shouted Vru.

“Didn’t you hear?” called back the warrior. “I’m gonna marry her!”

“You—you can’t! Ika, fight back!”

Ika was trying to do just that, but the warrior who had hold of her was at least ten times as strong as she was. He took Ika into the forest, and three of the other warriors took Vru into another part of the forest. There they tossed him unceremoniously into a steel cage, and padlocked the door threefold.

“I’d like to see you try to get out of that!” said the burly warrior who’d imprisoned him.

“What are you locking me up for, anyway?” demanded Vru. “What did I do?”

“Do! You have the gall to ask what you did? You trespassed on our land! You’re lucky the King didn’t order your execution!” the warrior said.

“Ika, they’re not friendly,” he called in the direction he assumed Ika was in.

“Shut up,” said the warrior.

“You could at least tell me where we are,” Vru said.

“You are on Ersia,” said the Ersian warrior, “and if that’s all you wanted to know, I’m leavin’ now. Have fun in there,” he finished with a sneer.

The warrior did leave, and Vru was left alone in the cage, in a forest that was getting darker as night approached. He didn’t think Ika was faring any better, and he was right.

On the other side of the forest, Ika was both in a cage andtied up—none of the Ersians wanted to risk her escaping, especially the one who’d threatened to marry her, because he meant to. Ika was terrified, but she did not cry. She was, however, trembling slightly.

“Whattsa matter?” cooed the Ersian who wanted to marry her, “you don’t like me?”

Ika glared at him. “He’ll come for me,” she said. “I know he will.”

“Who? Oh, you mean that blue-skin! We’ve taken care of him, I can assure you,” the Ersian said.

Ika started to play her cards. “If I’m going to marry you,” she said, “I should at least know your name.”

The Ersian chuckled, not very nicely. “It’s Ertim,” he said, “and now that we’ve exchanged civilities, we should get this underway, yes?” He smiled evilly, showing teeth as yellow as his skin. Ika cringed.

Vru, meanwhile, was trying to think of how he could get out of his cage. He didn’t know it, of course, but he was in a similar situation as Emyll had been when she was in jail on Dalah. But unfortunately for him, there were no guards around holding keys. The keys had been hung on a pole, much farther away than Vru could reach. He was sitting and thinking silently when suddenly he noticed a rather long stick on the ground outside the cage, and surprisingly, it was within reach, but just barely. Vru stretched his arm out and wiggled the stick toward him until he could grab it, and then reached the stick toward the keys to see if he could fish them off the pole. The stick was a little off-balance, and Vru almost dropped it. But he managed to hold on, and carefully lifted the keys off the pole and tilted the stick backwards to make them slide down toward him—Success! He grabbed the keys and tried each of them in each of the three locks. The third key worked in the first lock; the first in the second; and the second in the third. He opened the cage door and rushed farther into the forest to find Ika.

“Let the ceremony commence!” shouted King Gulah, who of course was present at Ika and Ertim’s wedding. All the warriors cheered. Ika did not.

“If we’re going to have a proper lovemate ceremony,” she said, rather primly, “we have to follow some customs of my people, the Poruns.”

“We ain’t gonna follow any customs,” Ertim growled.

“But it won’t be … um, official … if you don’t,” Ika insisted. This was of course a lie, but she said it to buy some time.

“All right,” Ertim conceded. “What first?”

Ika thought quickly. “We need … some gurrim fruit,” she said. Gurrimfruit was found only in a remote part of Poru, and the stems and leaves were covered in poisonous thorns. They wouldn’t find any here on Ersia, and even if they did, they would have a lot of trouble getting some. “We each need to eat some to ensure a happy life together.” She shuddered slightly. Ertim didn’t pick up on that, but then again, Ertim didn’t pick up on a lot of things, such as the fact that Ika didn’t want to marry him.

“Yarfa! Gim! Irch! Rufel!” he called to four of the most opposing-looking warriors. “Go find some of this gur-whatever fruit she’s talking about!”

“But we don’t know what it looks like,” said one of the warriors, who was Gim.

“It’s a little purple berry,” said Ika. “You’ll know it when you see it.”

“Fine,” said Gim. “Come on, then, men!” He led them into the forest, on what was essentially a wild goose-chase.

Vru was running through the forest, when suddenly he stopped and realized he would probably be faring a lot better if he were using his wings. If he could fly above the forest, he could probably see where they were holding Ika captive. Vru flew above the treetops, and scanned the forest for any sign of her. Off in the distance, to the southwest, he saw the glow of fire. That must be where Ika was being held! Of course, he was right. He flew down and landed in front of Ika and Ertim.

“Hey!” Ertim shouted. “How’d you get outta your cage?”

“You think I’m going to tell you that?” Vru laughed.

Ika, who had been smiling ever since she saw Vru in the sky above them, laughed. “You actually came!” she said. “I was worried that you wouldn’t escape.”

”I’ll tell you about it when we leave this place,” Vru said, untying her hands. ”I can’t wait to get out of here.”

Chapter 9

Fri, 01 Jul 2011 04:13:00 -0700

An entire chapter of Emyll. (BTW, that’s em-EEL, not EM-ull) I remember this chapter being really fun to write.

CHAPTER NINE

Exactly as Vru said these words, Emyll was standing in the middle of a circle of Dalahns, who were all holding hands. Slowly, carefully, the tallest Dalahn, who was obviously the leader of them all, spoke words that were strange and unfamiliar to Emyll.

“Rit glara duu’ha ge’,” he said. Emyll could feel her body start to tingle. She looked down at her remaining hand and gasped in shock. It was semitransparent.

“Degara pala d’stro fa’unna,” he continued.

Emyll looked down. The entire lower half of her body was gone. But before she could be astonished by this—

“Gatata i’ dalah ru mala’hek gatutu,” he finished.

Emyll felt rather sick and dizzy. She didn’t know where the hell she was, but it certainly wasn’t on Dalah anymore. Or on Mala’hek, for that matter. Everything around her was black, much blacker than she’d ever seen before, and she seemed to be whizzing through the air—if air there were here—at a very fast rate. Faster and faster she flew, and still faster, until suddenly—

Emyll woke up on a grassy embankment. She was no longer on Dalah; she was back on Mala’hek. She looked around her. Nothing looked familiar, but then again, Mala’hek was a very large island. Hecould be anywhere. And she would have him. Finally.

The grass went on for what seemed like miles and miles, so Emyll decided that she could probably go in any direction and end up somewhere inhabited by people. She got up and started walking towards the south—there was a bluish haze on the horizon that might be a town.

After several hours of walking and surprisingly not meeting up with anything out of the ordinary, she started to realize that yes, indeed, that was a town in the distance. Tired as she was at this point, she hurried towards it and, when she finally got there, mostly to be dramatic, collapsed on the doorstep of a nearby building.

“What’s this?” a man said, opening the door. Emyll slowly lifted her head and groaned. The man gasped. “What have you been doing?” he said, with concern. Emyll, although perfectly capable of answering, didn’t. The man picked her up and brought her inside.

“Here,” he said, handing her a flask of wine. “Drink this.” Emyll did, and after a few moments said up and said deliriously—or at least she tried to sound delirious—“Where am I?”

“You are in the town of Laradi,” said the man. He was actually Silut, who had sold the Golden Bird to Vru months earlier, but of course Emyll did not know this. “I’m the owner of the boat shop, Silut.”

“Maybe you can help me with something,” Emyll requested. “I’m trying to find a—friend—of mine.” She said the word “friend” with a little cringe. “His name is Vru, and”—

“Vru! Yes, he came to my shop and bought a boat. The Golden Bird. Fine piece of work, that,” he gloated, grinning. “Yes, he left Mala’hek several months ago. Said something about wanting to see new lands.”

“Do you know wherehe went?” Emyll asked.

“Well—I’m not sure. In fact I’m not even sure if he’s still alive. He may be drowned in Raito Seylh. But if you really want to look for him, I can sell you a boat. It won’t fly like his does though.”

“You sold him a boat that flies?” Emyll gasped incredulously.

“Well, technically, the boat itself doesn’t fly on its own,” admitted Silut. “There’s a special powder—my wife accidentally made it one day while perfecting one of her recipes”—

“So you don’t have any more of this powder.”

“Not on hand, no.”

“But you could make some.” Emyll’s tone was not so much hopeful as demanding.

“I’m afraid I can’t,” said Silut apologetically. “My wife is the only one that knows how to make it, and she’s gone.”

“Dead?” Emyll said, who hated euphemisms.

“No! Oh, no. She’s visiting her friends in Elatrie town. She won’t be back for several weeks. She never taught me how to make the powder, is all.”

Emyll was visibly disappointed. “Well,” she said finally, “you can sell me a boat, if you want. I should probably say that I don’t have very much money”—she pulled out a few keiriesfrom her tunic pocket, left over from before she was imprisoned on Dalah.

“Hm,” Silut looked at the money, and finally walked over to a small wooden boat, about a third of the size of the Golden Bird, and nowhere near as decorative. “I’m afraid this is the only thing you’ll be able to afford,” he said. “Two hundred keiries.”

Emyll quickly counted her money. “I only have forty-eight,” she said.

Silut, who never accepted credit if he could help it, quickly walked over to an even smaller boat, which looked as if it had spent several days in the worst of storms, and which also looked as if it could barely even hold Emyll, let alone all the provisions she would have to carry.

“The cheapest model I have,” said Silut. “Forty-five keiries.”

“I guess that one will have to do,” said Emyll, looking disappointed again. She gave Silut her money, leaving her only three keiries, took the boat with her and left.

She had to drag the boat behind her, and it kept snagging on rocks and branches on its way to the shoreline of the ocean. Emyll started to get annoyed at this, and demonstrated her growing rage by kicking at the boat. “You stupid thing,” she snarled, “why do you have to be so fucking heavy?” All at once she was aware of several people staring at her.

“You need some help, or something?” a rather burly man asked.

“Lucky,” said Emyll quietly. Louder she called “As you can obviously see, this boat is too heavy for me to carry. Give me a little help, would you?” The man started to come over, but suddenly stopped. “What are you planning to do?” he inquired suspiciously.

“I’m going to—find someone.” Emyll spoke shortly.

“You’re going onto Raito Seylh in that—why, that won’t last two days on the water. It’ll start leaking, and you’ll drown. If the death waters don’t kill you first,” he said, believing the legend and not knowing what Vru had learned.

“I’ll take my chances,” Emyll snarled. “Are you going to help me or not?”

The man took the boat, held it up over his head with both arms, and walked toward the water. “You have your provisions, yes?” he inquired of Emyll.

“I only have three keiriesleft,” Emyll admitted. “I used most of it for that,” she pointed at the boat.

The man set down the boat near the edge of the water. “I don’t think anyone will steal that. It doesn’t look valuable enough,” he said. “Come to the market, and get some supplies.”

“What the hell can I get for three keiries?” Emyll was annoyed.

“I’m sure you’ll find something.”

Emyll said nothing, just turned away and walked in the direction of the market. People stared at her—“my missing arm is drawing attention,” she thought—and children pointed out Emyll’s missing limb to their mothers, who in turn smacked them across the face or hands and whispered fiercely to them.

Emyll arrived at the open-air market in the middle of Laradi, and cleared her throat loudly to get the attention of a fat, pale-blue-skinned man who looked as if he’d lived thirty lifetimes. His face was frozen in a perpetual scowl and this expression did not change when he saw Emyll; if anything, he scowled even harder.

“Whaddaya want?” he said. He had a rough, scratchy voice that matched his looks.

“I need supplies,” Emyll said. “I’m going to find someone, and I need to go onto the ocean, so I need some supplies for my boat.”

“How much ya got?” growled the merchant.

Emyll opened up her hand, which was clutching the last three keiriesshe owned.

“Huh! Ya ain’t gonna get much for that, I can tell ya,” said the merchant with a sarcastic one-sided smirk.

“You have to have something,” Emyll insisted.

The merchant turned and rummaged through a box. “These are kinda old,” he said, showing Emyll two loaves of bread, “but I need to get ridda them, so—one keirieeach. That’ll leave one fer water. Whaddaya say?”

Emyll realized there was nothing else to be done. “I guess I’ll take them,” she finally said.

“Good! Now, here’s yer bread”—he handed Emyll the loaves—“and a flask of water. Comes to three keiries.”

Emyll handed him the last of her money.

“There! Now go away—I got me some more customers,” he said, turning to an old woman. Extending the same civility to her as he did to Emyll, he snapped “Whaddaya want?” with a scowl on his face. Emyll quickly turned and walked toward her boat, holding both loaves under her right arm and her flask of water in her right hand. Putting the food and water into the boat, she pushed it as best she could with her one arm into the water, and then got into the boat. And then she realized that she didn’t have any oars, and she cursed at herself for being so stupid. Trudging back to Silut’s shop after dragging the boat back up onto the shore, she flung the door open and demanded “And just what am I supposed to steer the boat with? You didn’t include any oars with it.”

Silut, who had been standing with his back to the door, jumped about a mile, and then calmed down. “Oh—it’s you,” he gasped. “Don’t scare me like that, okay?”

Emyll frowned at him. “So where are my oars? Aren’t they included with the boat?”

Silut looked visibly confused. “I thought you got oars,” he said. “If not, they weren’t included, as all the boats that include oars have them attached. You’re going to have to pay for them if they weren’t already on the boat.”

“That’s bullshit,” said Emyll. “I have no money left, after using most of my keiries for that—that not-much-better-than-a-raft, and the rest for food and water. And it’s not even very good food.”

“I feel for you,” said Silut, although he didn’t sound very convincing. Emyll picked up on the sarcasm, and became irritated.

“I should have gotten oars with the damned boat!” she snapped. “Now are you going to give me some, or should I just cut your throat?” Of course, she didn’t have her sword with her, or even a dagger for that matter, but Silut was unaware of this and thought she might have a weapon concealed on her. Better to assume that than pay the ultimate price, he thought.

“Y-yes! Of course! In-in fact, they were included! They must have fallen off, or something,” he said, hurriedly going over to where a pair of oars lay on a shelf. “Here you are. N-no charge,” he said.

“Thank yeeeewwww,” Emyll cooed sweetly, and left.

Back on her boat, Emyll pushed off the shoreline with one of the oars, and then she was on the water. But now she faced a dilemma. She had no idea where Vru’d gone, and all she could see ahead of her was an expanse of miles and miles of black water.

Chapter 8

Tue, 28 Jun 2011 23:21:00 -0700

I kept forgetting to post this! ANYWAY here it is for the probably two people who are reading this. If that many. :/

CHAPTER EIGHT

It was nighttime on Dalah, but Emyll wasn’t asleep. She was listening to a conversation between two Dalahns about her. Or at least, she was trying to listen. They were awfully far away. She could pick out snippets—“a shame, having her arm amputated”—“I think she’s telling the truth”(this, Emyll knew, was a result of the spell she’d cast, and she couldn’t suppress a little smirk)—“was framed.”

Emyll was listening to this conversation for one very important reason. One of them might slip and say the words that would let her get back to Mala’hek. She was not going to fall asleep and miss those words. She strained her ears, but they said nothing except mostly mindless chatter. She decided that they probably weren’t going to say the words after all, and she turned over and pulled a blanket up over her head, and was going to fall asleep, but just as she was about to, she heard, very clearly, one of the voices say “You want we should tell the blue-skin how to get back to her planet, or something?”

Emyll instantly sat bolt upright. Well, it was about fucking time. She could hear one of the people say something intelligible that ended with “tomorrow, when she wakes up.” She tried to stay awake, but couldn’t, and before she realized it she had drifted off to sleep.

The next morning she was jolted awake by a rapid, hard pounding at her door. “Wake up!” said someone—Emyll recognized his voice as one of the Dalahns she had overheard the previous night. She sat up in bed, wanting to lean against her left arm, but forgot she didn’t have one anymore, lost her balance, and fell with a fumpsound back onto the bed.

“God dammit,” she muttered. Louder, she called—“Ah—wait—I need to get myself dressed.” She had to remember to pretend to be nice, which in itself made her want to be even more villainous.

“Are you sure you can manage?” called the Dalahn man.

“Yes, yes, yes, now go away, and I’ll come out when I’m ready,” said an irritated Emyll. She pulled on her leggings and her tunic, and her boots (she had a bit of difficulty with these, using only one arm), and then came out of the room.

“Ah! Good! You are prepared, then?” said the man.

“Prepared for what?” Emyll said tentatively. She didn’t want the man to know, of course, that she’d been eavesdropping.

“Ah! Yes, I suppose I should probably tell you. We—the Dalahn committee—have decided to let you go back to your planet.”

This was the moment Emyll had been waiting for. “My plan actually worked,” she muttered under her breath.

*****

It had been three days of rowing, and they had found nothing. Of course, they had brought along food and water—Ika ate the native fruit, and Vru had also managed to find some besides the sweet-tart fruit that didn’t make him hallucinate or cause him to feel like his face was caving in.

“Do you think we’ll find anything soon?” inquired Ika. She was sprawled sleepily on the bottom of the boat, one arm over the side.

“I don’t know,” said Vru. “You know, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Nothing has even happened so far…”

“Don’t say that, you’ll jinx us,” Ika said, sitting up.

“Nothing’s goingto happen,” argued Vru.

“Oh, really?” Ika pointed eastward. “Then what do you call that?”

Huge black storm clouds were gathering in the east. Vru could see the flashes of lightning, and about ten seconds later, hear a low rumble. The sky below the clouds was a misty gray.

“It’s too far away,” said Vru, although he sounded more uncertain than usual.

“Storms move quickly,” Ika worried.

Another flash. Another rumble. This one was closer.

“I told you,” said Ika, rather smugly.

“Alright, fine. What are we going to do?”

“We are going to have to ride it out, I guess,” said Ika. As she said this, the first drops of rain began to fall on them. At first there were only a few drops; then more and more, until soon it was a torrential downpour. By now the storm was right overhead, and every time lightning flashed, the crack of the thunder, which would happen at the same time, was like a gunshot of the gods. Ika ducked and cowered every time this happened.

“I’m sorry,” she quavered. “I never liked storms…”

Before he knew what he was doing, Vru was holding Ika in his arms, trying to protect her from the driving rain and wind.

Of course, the boat wasn’t exactly staying still, either. It rocked and swayed up and down and back and forth, and Vru was feeling just a little seasick. Letting go of Ika for a few moments, he leaned over the side and purged his stomach of the fruit he’d eaten earlier. His blue skin had gotten paler, and he curled up on the bottom of the boat and groaned.

“Are you all right?” Ika said concernedly.

“I … yeah. It’s just my stomach,” said Vru weakly. “I forgot I get seasick in rough waters.”

“Well—here, eat this,” Ika pulled out a small purple fruit from her bag, and gave it to Vru. It tasted slightly bitter, but not unpleasantly so, and after he ate it, Vru’s queasiness left him.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Fulrufruit,” she said. “Great for seasickness. We Poruns take some with us every time we get on a boat.”

“Well, they should patent it or something,” said Vru. “That thing is a little miracle.”

“You can’t patent a fruit,” said Ika knowingly, with a little smirk.

The storm raged around them, and perhaps because Vru was there with her, Ika seemed to get used to the lightning and thunder.

“What was it like, back on Mala’hek?” Ika asked suddenly.

“Didn’t I already tell you?” he said.

“Well … yes … but—did you have a lovemate?”

“I did,” said Vru, after a pause. “But she was—killed.”

“By whom?”

“Her half-sister, Emyll.”

Ika reflected on this for a moment. “She wouldn’t—kill me? Would she?”

“I don’t think that would even be possible,” Vru smiled, “as she’s not even on this planet anymore. She is now banished to the planet Dalah, and trust me, she has no hope of escape.”