Forces Collide - Jamie Wilson (ebook reader macos .TXT) 📗
- Author: Jamie Wilson
Book online «Forces Collide - Jamie Wilson (ebook reader macos .TXT) 📗». Author Jamie Wilson
mention of the human who had slain my parents.
“But still the rule-”
“Silta!” I snarled, rather annoyed. I thought for a moment. They had to obey me.
“Let them pass! They will live with me, in my tree. Do not stop them again!” I commanded. I really had had enough now.
“But Your Highness-”
“Do not disobey me!” I growled. They could tell I was displeased by them.
Once they were out of hearing range of the gaurds, I turned to face my freinds on the stairs. "I am sorry about what just happened. I've met the man you resemble, Collin, about-" I counted in my head "-two decades ago."
Sam's mouth dropped open. "How old really are you?"
"Let me see, in the human way of counting years, I was born in 2090," I replied, rather calm.
"But it's 3011 now. You cannot be thirtyone years old, Gem," Gemma said, awestruck. I laughed, I'd told them only a short while ago of my age.
I smiled mockingly. "That's exactly how old I am. How ever I am still but a teenager among the elves. Once I am fourty, I will be fully grown."
"I'm guessing you meant our father?" Collin asked.
"Yes. He obviously forgot me, else he would strike me now. I am quite helpless, there'd be no better chance for him to finish this unnescessary war he created. He's taken both my parents from me, why let me live?" I stopped attacking the human man with words. Then in a gentler voice, though I did shudder as I said the name, "Lindan Marcos-" I steadied myself "- is not a nice man. I am sorry for letting my own feelings about him escape me, Collin and Sam. Lle ena nen llye atar."
At his blank face at the elfish words i translated, "You are not your father."
"Oh," he said.
"Did any of you know that this tree has been here since my people first came ashore near this forest?" I asked, changing the subject. "We came here long before your kind came."Thats almost five thousand years ago, I neevr knew any trees lives that long," Collin said. The others also voiced theu surprise.
"I did not think that the elves had been here so long," Gemma said.
"In the elfin way of marking time, this is actually the year 7050. Your race is certainly shortlived compared to us." My voice turned hard again. "Had my parents not been slain somewhere in the last fifteen years,, my father would have been," I stopped, realising what the date was. "have turned three hundred today."
We reacehd the front door now, and I opened it. So many familiar scents rushed over to me. One was fresher than any other and I paled in shock. It was Bjart's scent, but how could that be? "Wait here," I muttered. "Some thing is not right."
They nodded and I shut the door behind them. Then following the scent I walked down the hallway. After searching for several minutes I heard a wyvern snort. I whirled around, as a male elf entered the room, through the window. His sudden appearence made me gasp. He stopped at the sound and turned to face me. I gasped again. It was my father, but how?
Then a green and white wyvern eye looked in at me, it was surrounded in green scales.
I could not help but laugh in surprise. "Atar! Bjart!' I exclaimed.
I blinked seevral times before I started crying. "How?" I asked, steadying myself. "You died though.""
No we were forced to fake it, or it would certainly have happened. Until I heard of you returning here, I never showed myself to anyone."
"Not even Nuala?"
His face fell. "No not even her." He sighed heavily. "My time as the king is over."
Then we heard quite a ruccuss above us, in the wyvern's area. We both ran that way, swiftly up the stairs. I was aware of my freinds starting in that same direction.
As soon as I go there, I rushed to Gaelira's side protectively. "En, Bjart! Han sen nar uruloki, dul uro danaa dina ar' Bizandra Retrina!" I hissed. "Llye dina!"
For Bjart had almost attacked my wyvern. He blinked and dipped his head, ashamed.
"Anen neeraa bin gia nar atema?" Bjart asked. "Neera endu orro ena exebun arn estellana."
"What did he say?" Gaelira asked me.
"Might I know the name of my daughter? I am sorry for behaving so rudely."
"Gaelira Wenada, atar Bjart Goganada," Gaelira responded, since I did not.
I wondered when you were going to hatch. You took more than a decade to hatch. Gem was only eleven when Bizandra actually laid you in your egg," Bjart said.
Gaelira snorted in amusement. I was surprised I had been so young when her egg was laid. Though, something told me that she had waited a lot longer to hatch than her type of wyvern normally did.
Which made no sense to me really. Why would she take so long to wait for me to come along? She had the chance to choose to be a wild wyvern, but she’d given that up for me. In a way I felt honored. I had been chosen by the only sun wyvern alive for, hopefully, the next three undred years.
“What made you want to wait for me?” I asked, looking at her in wonder. Sure I loved her, a lot, but still, I knew I was no powerful elf. What then drew her to me, out of all of the elves in this land?
“You were the one I was waiting for. You know what it means to be someone who is fair in their actions. Gem, I know you will be a great leader, and I know that no one else has what it takes to bring him down,” Gaelira replied.
Chapter 8 - Sword fighting!
The next day, I found a message in my room, accompanied by an old, worn sword.
Gem,
I borrowed this from an old friend so I can teach you. Bring it with you to the sparring fields as soon as you can. I'm already there so I shall meet you when you get there.
Love your father.
I was so pleased that he was impatient to continue on. It meant he must be ecstatic to be teaching me.
I noticed another letter as I picked up the ancient blade.
By the way,
Gaelira's already with Bjart. I'm confident you'll locate me,
Zelphar.
Again I smiled. My father never failed to remember anything. Only one quandary, I did not know how to get there on foot. That made me slightly apprehensive, but then my rational brain kicked in.
You previously knew the way. It's in your memories, a diminutive voice told me.
I instantaneously revisited the memories of my past, probing only for anything connected to those fields. Figuring out the path in my head, I got dressed and hung the sword from my waist. It was lighter that I thought it would be.
Then I left my house, planning to spend time with my friends, both elf and human after I trained. After all, the three humans were legitimately in my care, Nuala hadn't time for them now. I'd instruct them all about my kind, and they'd be educated like me about weapons. All this; I had intended for them.
I moved quickly through the trees, fervent to be taught yet again. It was second nature for me to run, it was so simple. In fact not much entirely gained my concentration, except my gift.
In five human minutes later I was at my destination.
To find my father was simple, he was fighting three elves at once. I watched as Haemir, Drannor and Jhaer ducked and weave around him, trying to best him. The third elf was a shock; she was remarkably witty placing her blows.
Her blade moved so much swifter than Haemir's and Drannor's. I wondered if Drannor was using his gift. Drannor's attacks seemed so precise; they more or less touched one of the others.
Then Jhaer disengaged from the fight, pulling Haemir with her. Drannor and my father broke apart a second later. None of them were out of breath.
I quickly walked over to them. Jhaer and Haemir nodded respectfully to me as they mounted their individual wyverns. Drannor had sheathed his old looking sword and came walking across to me. He greeted me with a kiss as my father watched the wyverns fly off.
That little kiss made me redden a great deal on the cheeks. The only reason I knew this was because my cheeks felt hotter than usual as my blood rushed to them. I was chagrined by that short show of embarrassment. In some way he always made me go red in the face when he did that.
"Sorry Gem," he murmured quietly in my ear.
Then my father turned us and said, "You're here early Gem." His face showed nothing different so I guessed I was not red in the cheeks now.
"I want to be trained, that is all," I informed him. I smiled and then escaped Drannor's arms and sped over to give my father a giant cuddle. Drannor watched me peacefully then turned and left the fields.
So I watched and mimicked my fathers various attacks, listening to his instructions. Slowly but surely they became more and more intricate.
A number of days later, my father said, with a small dare in his voice, "Lets see how good you are then."
I knew the implication behind his pleasant words and drew the borrowed blade yet again.
Then my father's sword rushed at me and I only just managed to block his strike. How speedy he is, I thought, endeavoring to return the blow hurriedly. My sword was brushed away like an annoying fly. The force behind my father's attacks often threw me off balance. Time and time again I managed to steady myself and attack back, each time paying more concentration. Every time Sylleth's razor sharp edge should have touched me, my father stopped his attack before it did. I knew that if I were human, I would have had some broken bones.
Finally we stopped and I was out of breath and exhausted. I knew my kind rarely got tired by this sort of activity, but I did not yet feel accustomed to wielding a sword. My father was cheerful at me when I at last looked at him, beaten. I knew I had lost this time.
"You were really good sweetheart," he praised me.
"Diolla atar," I replied. Thanks father.
Five or six weeks passed and still I could not disarm him. There was the noticeable increase in my fitness rate, I was not exhausting as easily and could spar for hours with no rest. Days went by that I did not really want to discontinue. I did not only spar with my father, but with Drannor and other elves.
It was obvious I was a fast learner, and soon came a day where I and my father simply stood, swords drawn, facing each other.
This time we were not merely sparring with each other, we had an audience. Drannor, Haemir, Jhaer, the wyverns, Nuala, Ashlere, Sam, Collin and of course, Gemma sat watching.
"Be careful Gem," Sam squealed like a typical girl.
For this fight, my mind was deeply shielded; I did
“But still the rule-”
“Silta!” I snarled, rather annoyed. I thought for a moment. They had to obey me.
“Let them pass! They will live with me, in my tree. Do not stop them again!” I commanded. I really had had enough now.
“But Your Highness-”
“Do not disobey me!” I growled. They could tell I was displeased by them.
Once they were out of hearing range of the gaurds, I turned to face my freinds on the stairs. "I am sorry about what just happened. I've met the man you resemble, Collin, about-" I counted in my head "-two decades ago."
Sam's mouth dropped open. "How old really are you?"
"Let me see, in the human way of counting years, I was born in 2090," I replied, rather calm.
"But it's 3011 now. You cannot be thirtyone years old, Gem," Gemma said, awestruck. I laughed, I'd told them only a short while ago of my age.
I smiled mockingly. "That's exactly how old I am. How ever I am still but a teenager among the elves. Once I am fourty, I will be fully grown."
"I'm guessing you meant our father?" Collin asked.
"Yes. He obviously forgot me, else he would strike me now. I am quite helpless, there'd be no better chance for him to finish this unnescessary war he created. He's taken both my parents from me, why let me live?" I stopped attacking the human man with words. Then in a gentler voice, though I did shudder as I said the name, "Lindan Marcos-" I steadied myself "- is not a nice man. I am sorry for letting my own feelings about him escape me, Collin and Sam. Lle ena nen llye atar."
At his blank face at the elfish words i translated, "You are not your father."
"Oh," he said.
"Did any of you know that this tree has been here since my people first came ashore near this forest?" I asked, changing the subject. "We came here long before your kind came."Thats almost five thousand years ago, I neevr knew any trees lives that long," Collin said. The others also voiced theu surprise.
"I did not think that the elves had been here so long," Gemma said.
"In the elfin way of marking time, this is actually the year 7050. Your race is certainly shortlived compared to us." My voice turned hard again. "Had my parents not been slain somewhere in the last fifteen years,, my father would have been," I stopped, realising what the date was. "have turned three hundred today."
We reacehd the front door now, and I opened it. So many familiar scents rushed over to me. One was fresher than any other and I paled in shock. It was Bjart's scent, but how could that be? "Wait here," I muttered. "Some thing is not right."
They nodded and I shut the door behind them. Then following the scent I walked down the hallway. After searching for several minutes I heard a wyvern snort. I whirled around, as a male elf entered the room, through the window. His sudden appearence made me gasp. He stopped at the sound and turned to face me. I gasped again. It was my father, but how?
Then a green and white wyvern eye looked in at me, it was surrounded in green scales.
I could not help but laugh in surprise. "Atar! Bjart!' I exclaimed.
I blinked seevral times before I started crying. "How?" I asked, steadying myself. "You died though.""
No we were forced to fake it, or it would certainly have happened. Until I heard of you returning here, I never showed myself to anyone."
"Not even Nuala?"
His face fell. "No not even her." He sighed heavily. "My time as the king is over."
Then we heard quite a ruccuss above us, in the wyvern's area. We both ran that way, swiftly up the stairs. I was aware of my freinds starting in that same direction.
As soon as I go there, I rushed to Gaelira's side protectively. "En, Bjart! Han sen nar uruloki, dul uro danaa dina ar' Bizandra Retrina!" I hissed. "Llye dina!"
For Bjart had almost attacked my wyvern. He blinked and dipped his head, ashamed.
"Anen neeraa bin gia nar atema?" Bjart asked. "Neera endu orro ena exebun arn estellana."
"What did he say?" Gaelira asked me.
"Might I know the name of my daughter? I am sorry for behaving so rudely."
"Gaelira Wenada, atar Bjart Goganada," Gaelira responded, since I did not.
I wondered when you were going to hatch. You took more than a decade to hatch. Gem was only eleven when Bizandra actually laid you in your egg," Bjart said.
Gaelira snorted in amusement. I was surprised I had been so young when her egg was laid. Though, something told me that she had waited a lot longer to hatch than her type of wyvern normally did.
Which made no sense to me really. Why would she take so long to wait for me to come along? She had the chance to choose to be a wild wyvern, but she’d given that up for me. In a way I felt honored. I had been chosen by the only sun wyvern alive for, hopefully, the next three undred years.
“What made you want to wait for me?” I asked, looking at her in wonder. Sure I loved her, a lot, but still, I knew I was no powerful elf. What then drew her to me, out of all of the elves in this land?
“You were the one I was waiting for. You know what it means to be someone who is fair in their actions. Gem, I know you will be a great leader, and I know that no one else has what it takes to bring him down,” Gaelira replied.
Chapter 8 - Sword fighting!
The next day, I found a message in my room, accompanied by an old, worn sword.
Gem,
I borrowed this from an old friend so I can teach you. Bring it with you to the sparring fields as soon as you can. I'm already there so I shall meet you when you get there.
Love your father.
I was so pleased that he was impatient to continue on. It meant he must be ecstatic to be teaching me.
I noticed another letter as I picked up the ancient blade.
By the way,
Gaelira's already with Bjart. I'm confident you'll locate me,
Zelphar.
Again I smiled. My father never failed to remember anything. Only one quandary, I did not know how to get there on foot. That made me slightly apprehensive, but then my rational brain kicked in.
You previously knew the way. It's in your memories, a diminutive voice told me.
I instantaneously revisited the memories of my past, probing only for anything connected to those fields. Figuring out the path in my head, I got dressed and hung the sword from my waist. It was lighter that I thought it would be.
Then I left my house, planning to spend time with my friends, both elf and human after I trained. After all, the three humans were legitimately in my care, Nuala hadn't time for them now. I'd instruct them all about my kind, and they'd be educated like me about weapons. All this; I had intended for them.
I moved quickly through the trees, fervent to be taught yet again. It was second nature for me to run, it was so simple. In fact not much entirely gained my concentration, except my gift.
In five human minutes later I was at my destination.
To find my father was simple, he was fighting three elves at once. I watched as Haemir, Drannor and Jhaer ducked and weave around him, trying to best him. The third elf was a shock; she was remarkably witty placing her blows.
Her blade moved so much swifter than Haemir's and Drannor's. I wondered if Drannor was using his gift. Drannor's attacks seemed so precise; they more or less touched one of the others.
Then Jhaer disengaged from the fight, pulling Haemir with her. Drannor and my father broke apart a second later. None of them were out of breath.
I quickly walked over to them. Jhaer and Haemir nodded respectfully to me as they mounted their individual wyverns. Drannor had sheathed his old looking sword and came walking across to me. He greeted me with a kiss as my father watched the wyverns fly off.
That little kiss made me redden a great deal on the cheeks. The only reason I knew this was because my cheeks felt hotter than usual as my blood rushed to them. I was chagrined by that short show of embarrassment. In some way he always made me go red in the face when he did that.
"Sorry Gem," he murmured quietly in my ear.
Then my father turned us and said, "You're here early Gem." His face showed nothing different so I guessed I was not red in the cheeks now.
"I want to be trained, that is all," I informed him. I smiled and then escaped Drannor's arms and sped over to give my father a giant cuddle. Drannor watched me peacefully then turned and left the fields.
So I watched and mimicked my fathers various attacks, listening to his instructions. Slowly but surely they became more and more intricate.
A number of days later, my father said, with a small dare in his voice, "Lets see how good you are then."
I knew the implication behind his pleasant words and drew the borrowed blade yet again.
Then my father's sword rushed at me and I only just managed to block his strike. How speedy he is, I thought, endeavoring to return the blow hurriedly. My sword was brushed away like an annoying fly. The force behind my father's attacks often threw me off balance. Time and time again I managed to steady myself and attack back, each time paying more concentration. Every time Sylleth's razor sharp edge should have touched me, my father stopped his attack before it did. I knew that if I were human, I would have had some broken bones.
Finally we stopped and I was out of breath and exhausted. I knew my kind rarely got tired by this sort of activity, but I did not yet feel accustomed to wielding a sword. My father was cheerful at me when I at last looked at him, beaten. I knew I had lost this time.
"You were really good sweetheart," he praised me.
"Diolla atar," I replied. Thanks father.
Five or six weeks passed and still I could not disarm him. There was the noticeable increase in my fitness rate, I was not exhausting as easily and could spar for hours with no rest. Days went by that I did not really want to discontinue. I did not only spar with my father, but with Drannor and other elves.
It was obvious I was a fast learner, and soon came a day where I and my father simply stood, swords drawn, facing each other.
This time we were not merely sparring with each other, we had an audience. Drannor, Haemir, Jhaer, the wyverns, Nuala, Ashlere, Sam, Collin and of course, Gemma sat watching.
"Be careful Gem," Sam squealed like a typical girl.
For this fight, my mind was deeply shielded; I did
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