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Saturday, September 24, 2005


   New Art
I've submitted four new pictures, all of characters from my stories (including Lucifer!) I hope that they will get accepted. Please let me know what you think!!
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   Chapter 8: Down the Acheron River (part 3)
The boats for the University Caravan stood ready at the far south side of the port. They were small, five-person, shell-shaped pieces carved from the trunks of large trees. There must have been fifty or more of them in the harbor, each supplied with a pair of paddles, a length of rope, and a small metal bucket.
“Everyone grab your roomate and get in a boat!” yelled Contra over the chatter of the excited kids. They did as he told; Lucifer and Pen—with Sasheeta sitting on his shoulder—sat down in the one farthest out in the river. Each of the soldiers got a boat to themselves, and several of them even tied an extra to the back of their’s for the other children that they would be picking up along the way.
“Okay you guys,” started Panda. “We stick together! Always stay with the group and stay on the right side of the river unless we tell you otherwise. Other than that, just have fun!”
The ropes holding the boats to the harbor untied themselves by magic and curled themselves up. This was greeted by panic from some and glee from others.
“Sir, you’re not going to tell us how to drive these things?” cried an orange-haired boy.
“What’s the use?” Panda chuckled. “You learn from experience. The current will do a lot of the work for you; the rest you need to learn by yourself.”
Lucifer and Pen had both already picked up paddles and taken up places at opposite sides of the boat. The little shell was light and responded easily to their strokes. Before long, they had reached the far side of the Acheron, where Lucifer suggested that they stop and wait for the others. They let the current slowly wash them downstream, watching the kids as they figured out how to use the paddles. Some, like Lucifer and Pen, had no trouble at all, whereas others struggled. Pen noticed that Tory and her lavender-haired friend nearly capsized and hit the boat of another.
Before long, however, they had all sorted themselves out and were steadily paddling down the river. Contra lead the group—Akana was nowhere in sight—and Panda, as usual, flew above on Keion.
After an hour of off-and-on paddling, Pen could tell that Sasheeta was getting bored by their shared silence. She sighed loudly into his ear. When he did not respond, she started nibbling on his shirt.
“What do you want?” he asked, trying not to sound too angry.
“I’m bored. Say something.”
“What do you want me to say?” seeing that the group ahead had started slowing down, he stopped paddling and balanced the paddle across the smaller part of boat, so that his hands were free. The dragon clampered down his arm and sat inside his crossed legs.
“Tell me a story,” she said.

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Friday, September 23, 2005


*cough*
Sorry for not updating the story very much in the last week. I've been very very busy with schoolwork and now I have a cold *sniffle*. But I will try to update more this weekend, promise!
Homework deserves to die.

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   Chapter 8: Down the Acheron River (part 2)
The creak of the door broke him out of his training. He sheathed Lucaya just as Panda came in the room.
“’Morning, Pen,” he said cheerfully. “Where’s Lucifer?”
“He went to the bathroom.”
“Well, let him know that we’re eating breakfast now, and we’ll be leaving right after.”
“Okay.”
“You guys getting along?”
“Hmmm,” Pen answered, which served as a “yes.”
“Glad to hear it,” Panda winked. “Well, see you in a couple minutes.” As quickly as he had come, he was also gone.
Only half a minute later, the door opened again. It was Lucifer this time.
“Panda just came by here,” Pen told him, reciting his message.
“Well, I guess there’s no time to loose,” the black-winged angel sighed, gathering up his cloak. Pen slipped into his shoes and put on his backpack. “I love this eastern food that your people cook up.”
“I’m not a big fan of it myself,” was the answer. “I don’t like to eat.”
“You what?” Lucifer was very surprised. The door slammed shut behind them as they left the room. “You know, your body sort of needs food to survive.”
“Really?”
Lucifer was laughing. “You didn’t know? Are you being serious?!”
“Yeah. Nobody ever told me that!” Pen had always assumed that eating something was a form of tradition and entertainment that most people needed. It had never occurred to him that it was actually required.
“Well, it’s true! You don’t eat, you starve. That means you die. And, come to think of it, it’s not a very nice way to die, either.”
As they descended the last flight of stairs, the noise and the smells of breakfast whafted up to them. Pen could hear Lucifer’s stomach growl loudly. The angel chuckled and patted his belly. “See? My body’s already complaining.”
They took a seat at an empty round table. A lady listed the choices for breakfast, took their order—Pen got whatever Lucifer got—and returned within seconds with two plates. Lucifer dug right in; Pen took a fork and stabbed a piece of wild boar ham.
After a few minutes, heading Lucifer’s advice, he started to eat, begining with the mashed potatoes. But it felt strange to him, almost silly. He felt like he was wasting his time and energy. After two mouthfulls, he put down his fork. “I can’t do it,” he growled, pushing away his plate.
Lucifer, contentedly munching, shot him a glance and put down his fork. “Why no-“
“Are you going to eat that?” squeaked a familiar voice. Sasheeta landed on their table and pointed at Pen’s ham.
“No. You can have it.” He pushed the plate over to her, where she snatched away the bacon with her forepaws and took a huge bite. The piece of meat was nearly bigger than she was.
“Is that a pseudodragon?” Lucifer asked, distracted.
“Yeah. Her name is Sasheeta,” Pen sighed. “I almost lost my head over her.”
“She’s…” he started, squinting at the dragon’s perfect tinyness as she gnawed at the ham. Her eyes were big and questioning at his strange expression. “She’s… really cute…”
Sasheeta swallowed, raised her head, and smiled, her head crest raising up in happyness (which side affects included making her look even more cute). The boys, all other topics forgotten, couldn’t help but chuckle.

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Tuesday, September 20, 2005


   Chapter 8: Down the Acheron River (part 1)
Pen found himself again at the very first crack of dawn. He got up from his bed as quietly as he could and went to the window. The port was still asleep.
Lucifer was also still sleeping. He was curled up into a little ball, his wing covering him. He was scowling. Pen could feel the darkness in his thoughts… it was a dream… but the black-eyed boy could not reach it. Shaking his head, he turned back to the window.
“Pen, you’re already awake?” he heard Lucifer say. The angel was sitting up on the bed, looking at him. He was so tired, his eyes were still only half open.
“Yeah,” Pen answered. “Sorry if I woke you up.”
“What time is it?”
“Five thirty.”
Lucifer flopped back down on the bed. “You weird guy. I swear I just saw your eyes in my dream.” He closed his eyes again and had fallen asleep in a matter of seconds. This time, his face stayed smooth and peaceful. Although a part of Pen regretted waking him up, he was also somewhat grateful; whatever Lucifer had been dreaming, it had not been pleasant.
Pen considered the angel’s last words to him. Was it possible that he had touched Lucifer’s mind? He had no access to it now, and yet he knew that the way he had been drawn by the darkness was real.
Softly unsheathing Lucaya, he took a seat on the wooden floor and balanced her across his knees. The new light of the suns shimmered on her surface, as well as the patterns of magic as it skurried along the blade. He watched the sword for a long time, even as the suns broke over the horizon and bathed the world in light. When Lucifer woke up, he still wouldn’t budge.
“It looks like you’ve already got a real sword,” the black-winged angel said. He was laying on his stomach at the edge of the bed, looking at Lucaya. “I’ve really been looking forward to creating my own sometime.”
“Do you want to go to Havoc, too?” Pen asked him, picking his sword up by the hilt. It was common knowledge that Havoc students had to make their own swords.
“Not nessessarily. I guess I wouldn’t mind if I got in, but it really seems like a lot of trouble to go though. As long as I learn how to fight and protect people better, I’ll be happy. Maybe I’ll improve my magic skills in the process.”
Suddenly, an idea struck Pen. “Can you read angel magic symbols?” he asked, starting to get to his feet.
“A little. Why?”
Pen sheathed his sword with one hand, while simulateusly pulling a piece of paper out of his backpack. He handed it to Lucifer. “I found this thing in the Archives library, but I can’t read it.”
Lucifer took a moment to decypher it. “Okay, let me show you,” he said, sitting up so that Pen could also see the paper. He pointed to the two ledgible words, then running his finger along as he read off the symbols. “Awaken power: Senots Tsefinam sih Yawa Gnis. It’s followed by the symbols for fire and air.”
“What does it do?”
“I dunno… “awaken power”? That’s what it says, anyway.”
“Can you translate the symbols into letters for me?”
“Got a pencil?”
Pen went to his backpack and pulled out a smooth, almost straight stick into which a tiny groove had been cut on the side. This was filled in with a black, metal-like substance that made a mark on paper. After a few weeks of use, the edge would be worn short, so that the wood had to be cut back with a knife.
Lucifer got out of bed and took the pencil from him. He put the parchment up to the wall so that he could write, neatly lining up the translation with the symbols. For the last two, he just put arrows with the words “fire” and “air” as labels.
“Here, is that okay?” he said, handing back the pencil and paper. Pen looked over the words.
Senots Tsefinam sih Yawa Gnis,” he read, memorizing it. “I wonder what it means.”
“Sorry that I couldn’t be of more help,” Lucifer told him, slipping into his shoes. “I’m gonna run down to the bathroom, if that’s all right with you.”
“Yeah. Thanks,” Pen sighed, sitting down on his bed. After the angel had been gone for a minute, he gave up on trying to make anything of the strange symbols. Folding the paper back up, he stuck it into his backpack again. Not knowing what else to do, he drew his sword.
There wasn’t much room to practice, but it was enough. Pen closed his eyes to concentrate: he imagined a wiseman before him, preparing to spar. In his imagination, he blocked a high strike and a low one, flipping his sword wherever his opponent’s was. He went faster and faster; only by memorizing the movement, he would be able to use it without having to think. Thinking wasted too much time in a real fight. You had to move as your mind did.

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Sunday, September 18, 2005


   It's Lucifer!!
Yep, I'd like to introduce LUCIFER, the very first myO character to show up in the story!! Many many thanks to Frgt10one!!! Please click here to visit his site.
THANK YOU, Frgt10one!

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   Chapter 7: Lucifer (part 2)
“I’m sorry to have to break the news to you that you’ve got a roommate,” Panda said as they walked. “I know that you would rather be alone. However, you might be pleasantly surprised. Ah, here we go.” He had stopped in front of the door labeled with the number 10-1. “Well, go right on in. I’m sure you’ll both be happy to meet each other.” With those vague words, he left Pen standing alone in the hall.
The boy knocked before he opened the unlocked door and stepped inside. It was a small, rectangular-shaped room with two skinny beds. A lone candle flickered in the dim light on a bedside table.
“You must be my roomate, huh?” said an ageless, but not unpleasant, voice. The speaker was standing by the window, looking out over the sunset across the water of the Acheron river. He wore a black cloak that disgused his whole figure. Pen realized immediately that this was the person who Panda had greeted at the door of the inn.
As usual, Pen did not answer his question. The door fell shut behind him, a tool to cover up the silence. He didn’t know why, but there was something about this guy that did not want him to stay silent. It was something hidden in his voice, the mixture of seriousness and amiability and intelligence and quiet all wrapped into one somehow.
The person turned around, away from the window, taking off his hood in the process.
The two boys stared at each other for almost a full minute.
Pen had never seen anyone so strange. He was an angel with black hair, except that the tips were made red by magic or dye or both. His eyes were so dark brown that they nearly appeared to be black, too. His clothes were all black: a tight shirt, reveiling a powerful and strong body, baggy pants that were easy to move in, and practical shoes. It appeared as though everything he wore was made of the same black leather that was so thin that it could pass as cloth if one didn’t look closely enough.
“My name is Lucifer,” he said, breaking the silence. He took off his cloak and hung it across the lone chair in the corner, uncovering his completely black wings. “Where I come from, it’s common curtesy to say one’s own name before asking for another’s.”
“Yes, it’s like that here, also,” Pen said. “I... I’m Pen.”
Lucifer gave him an odd glance out of the side of his eye while he pulled the blanket off the bed. The black-eyed boy kicked off his shoes and set his backpack down on top of them. “That’s not your full name, is it?”
Pen flinched.
“Oh, did I say something wrong?”
He hesitated, his mind shivering when he finally said the words that he had never before shared in his life. “I hate my name.”
“Well, sorry about that. Pen is fine.” Lucifer flicked and stretched his wings, preparing to go to bed. Pen didn’t know what to say or do when he did not persue the topic; he had been expecting him, like most of the people he knew, to start asking questions.
“Umm… one thing,” Pen started, even though it was very unlike him. “Where are you from?”
“The Okora mountains,” was the answer. Lucifer got into bed, tucking his hands under his head. “Have you heard of them?”
“We learned a little about them from the stories about the war,” Pen replied. “They told us that most of the mountain’s natives were wiped out when the demons started invading. You held them off until the armies were gathered.”
“Yes, I guess that’s right. There’s only two villages left that still hunt the Okora.” Pen sat down on his bed, too, as the angel stretched out his wings beneath him. “Mind if I ask you something?”
The black-eyed boy layed down, so as to cover up his lack of answer again. When Lucifer did not say anything, he finally spoke up. “Go ahead.”
“You’re the one who got invited to University a year early, right?”
“Yeah.” Lucifer started chuckling. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, it’s just,” he answered, “it’s so strange that they would put us together, since you’re a year younger and I’m a year older. I guess we’re the two oddballs, huh?”
Suddenly, Pen found the humor in his statement. Without knowing why, he started to chuckle too, for the first time in his life, laughing along. “Odd is right!”
“I’ll bet you that we’ll be roommates at University, too!”
“I thought that there were single rooms there.”
“Are you kidding? They’ve got a couple hundred thousand kids to fit in! I doubt the Primary School has singles very much.”
“You’re probably right. I never gave it that much thought before. I assumed I’d just be stuck in with some other elf-kid.”
“You sound so glad about it.”
Pen didn’t know what to say.
“Well, anyway, we’d better get some rest.” With those words, Lucifer blew out the candle, drowning the room in darkness. “Sleep well.”
The black-eyed boy felt strangely content. Before he knew it, he had closed his eyes, too. “You, too,” he said, not knowing why, for the first time in his life, he actually meant it.

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Saturday, September 17, 2005


   Chapter 7: Lucifer (part 1)
It wasn’t until high noon that they stopped to eat and rest at an inn. Pen finally managed to separate himself from Nomei when they went into the building, finding a seat at the far end of a long table where Tory and her friends had already taken seats. He watched as the others ate; food made him sick, and he never understood why everyone made such a big deal over it.
After an hour to rest, the group made off again. Pen made sure to choose a place as far away from the lady soldier as possible, but she seemed to have talked herself out for the day. She, too, walked in silence along the main trail, herding along the group of kids. Contra took up the back this time, on foot; his horse was still away somewhere, grazing. She caught up with them a few hours later, where her rider allowed her to walk alongside until nightfall.
The kids were tired when they finally stopped for the night. The soldiers had found a nice expanse of mossy ground at the side of the trail, on which they spread oiled leather sheets to keep the moisture out and cloth blankets for warmth.
The exhausted children were too tired to complain about the nature matress. After stacking their backpacks away, they curled up together on top of the “bed,” using each other as pillows and for warmth. They looked like a big pile of puppies after an extremely exciting day.
Pen was not amongst them. He sat alone with his back against a tree with Lucaya leaned against his chest. He watched as the soldiers settled down for the night, most of them laying down to sleep, with only a few staying awake on watch. He knew that these would change shifts with others half-way through the night, and the next day those who got to sleep the night through would be the ones to watch.
Akana, the horse, was nowhere in sight. Contra was sitting against a tree facing away from the camp and to the forest; Panda doing the same on the opposite side of the group, leaning against Keion instead of a tree. After a while, they both appeared to be sleeping.
As complete darkness fell, the forest began to awaken. Little sounds sprang up everywhere. Pen closed his eyes, letting his senses go free. It was as close to sleeping as he ever got.

That was how they spent the next three days. They would walk for hours straight, stopping at inns to eat or trading food off merchants that they came across. The kids grew accustomed to the schedule and to each other. As they walked, more elf-kids joined the University Caravan. The group became larger. By the time they reached Goswen Port at the end of the fourth day, there were about three or four dozen kids gathered together.
The port was even larger than Quont-Ein, possibly because the houses were more spread out. Nearly everything in the town was brown, from the wooden houses, to the plain dirt streets, to the practical clothing that all the travelers wore. There were lots of interesting things to be traded, but they did not have the time.
Many people greeted them with smiles and congratulations as the University Caravan shepherded the kids to a large inn overlooking the Acheron river. There, they took baths and ate dinner in shifts, before they were all assigned rooms for the night.
Pen was sitting at a table, waiting for the soldiers to give him a room, when a draft of cool air brought his attention to the door. Panda was greeting someone dressed in a long, black cloak, whose face was hidden beneath a large hood. The two exchanged words that Pen could not hear over the chatter of the remaining kids and the soldiers. Then, Panda led the person up the stairs to the rooms.
The black-eyed boy gave it no more thought, shifting his ears to the travelers seated near him.
“… them intruments sold well, though.”
“Really? Well, who’d ‘a thought that?”
“The folks ‘ve got time now to play ‘em an’ listen. They couldn’t do that before now, right, with the war an’ all. It was all “fight fight fight” back then, ya know.”
“Weapons ‘re still going, too, though.”
“Yeah, well, they still wanna protect themselves. A lotta wild magic has sprun up in forests lately.”
“They should send Havoc or something to go sort out those crazy wizards.”
“They’re thinking there’s only one mind behind it all though, a’ least that’s what I heard…”
“Pen,” Panda interrupted his hearing, “I can show your room now. Unless you want to keep listening…”
“No, I’m coming,” the boy said, not knowing how the angel knew that he had been eavesdropping on the travelers. He followed Panda up three flights of stairs to one of the higher stories of the inn.

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Thursday, September 15, 2005


   Gerrit is mentioned!!
Congrats to kirbysdouble, the creater of Gerrit!! BUT WAIT: there is more to come!!!
Thanks again for your idea, mr. kirbysdouble!! ^_^

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   Chapter 6: The University Caravan (part 2)
It was the day before they left for University when Pen found the paper that Tory had stuck behind the shelf. He was gathering together his special papers in preparation for the next morning, when they would be traveling to Quont-Ein in order to join the caravan. Surprised that someone else had come across his hiding spot, he unfolded the old piece of parchment.
It had a line of angel-magic symbols, labeled with the words “awaken power.” Pen, who possessed almost no magic, could not read them, so he folded it back up. He gathered his article about Predicus and his invitation to University, and took the little stack up to his dorm room.
The room was only a small, empty, dark space. A collection of Pen’s clothes—the plain, brownish-gray outfits of the Archives—was already packed into a well-worn backpack given to him by a wiseman. He sat down on the colorless bed to look at Predicus once again.
His hero appeared like he always did, those fierce gray eyes staring somewhere Pen could not see.
I’m on my way, the boy thought to himself. I’m going to Havoc!

The next morning, two wisemen walked a group of five kids to Quont-Ein to join the University Caravan at the head of the main trail. The wide, well-worn path was the primary way of travel between Quont-Ein and Goswen Port. After Goswen, the rest of the way was by boat along the Acheron River.
All of the kids were quiet with excitement the whole way. Three were girls; Tory and two of her friends. The boy also seemed to know her, although not as well. Pen was, again, the outsider in both appearance and additude.
The wisemen said good-bye to them as they mingled with a large group of other elf-kids from nearby villages. Towering over the sea of children was the caravan: soldiers, some more friendly-looking than others, all armed and ready for duty.
A blue-haired elf with kind, yellow eyes checked his watch. “We leave as soon as the guardians arrive,” he told the group of impatient kids. Even though the main trail was used often, it still went through the forest, so you could never be too careful, especially with a group of delicious kids. “They’re late, as usual.”
“No, never!” yelled a voice from the forest. They heard the pounding of hooves in the distance. A moment later, a horse and rider burst out of the woods before them, the gigantic bay rearing as the elf on his back wheeled her around to a stop.
Many of the kids gasped and held on to each other. Horses had become a rare sight since the Continental War, before which they had been plentiful. Many hundreds of thousands had died bravely in battle, leaving nearly only the wild ones to survive. There were only a few bred war-horses still around, not counting those that had gone wild after the war, and this appeared to be one of them.
Pen would have expected no less. The gray-haired elf on her back wore a shimmering, pearl-colored cloak and he held a staff with a big white crystal on the top; the outfit of a Havoc-graduate wizard.
“Oh, don’t scare them, Contra!” cried yet another voice, this one even more familiar. Pen spun around and saw Panda on the back of Keion, hovering just over the ledge of the city.
“Do you have the dragon?” Contra asked his colleague.
“Yep, right here!” Panda pointed to a little speck of red on his shoulder that was Sasheeta.
“Okay, we can start moving,” Contra announced. He turned his horse around and started to lead the way along the main trail. When the soldiers also started to move, the kids gave each other meaningful glances and started walking. Panda flew overhead, watching over the scene.
After several minutes, the kids started to talk amongst themselves while they walked. Some of the tension faded from the air.
Pen, who walked alone at the edge of the group, immersed himself in his own thoughts. He was frustrated about not having found the solution to Lucaya’s strange two-word name. On the other hand, University also had a large library, not to mention knowledgable people that he could ask.
“Excuse me,” said the soldier beside him. Pen was mildly surprised; it was an elf-woman. She had light brown hair, braided back with a strip of leather, and matching colored eyes. Her armor consisted of chain mail covered by a plain, black surcoat. She wore only a quiver of arrows and a bow as her weapon. “Are you the boy who was invited to University a year early?”
Pen nodded grimly.
“Wow, I’ve heard so much about you!” she exclaimed. “I’m Nomei by the way. Is it true that you really killed a night griffin? Your eyes are really black?”
“What does it look like?” Pen snapped.
“It’s so strange though!” she continued, not put off by his angry tone. “I can’t sense any wild magic around you, which is really strange, because only wild magic could do something like that. Elf or angel magic alone doesn’t have the power to change a person’s body like that.” She sighed, not noticing that Pen kept flashing her angry looks. “Maybe my magic is just not sensitive enough…
“Hey, have you heard of Gerrit the Earthbound?” she suddenly asked. “You must have heard of him from somewhere!”
The name did sound vagely familiar, but Pen couldn’t recall where he had heard it before, so he shook his head. “No, I don’t believe I have.”
“Well, he might be able to sense if it was wild magic that made you like this,” she continued, talking so quickly Pen nearly had trouble keeping up with her. “He’s really perceptive of wild magic and he’s always on the lookout for it. We run into him a lot when we travel. He’s a strange guy. He always says I talk too much and he won’t answer any of my questions. Hey, maybe we’ll run into him along the way! He always runs into the University Caravan every year at some point in time…”
Pen was no longer listening. Nomei kept talking on and on about everything from wild magic, the magic of the wild wizards, to Akana, Contra’s horse. He did not know or care how she could talk so much. One thing was for sure: Gerrit was dead right. She did talk too much. Way too much.

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