(Not Hammel Related)

[Ann Hudgins]

(-gasp- right? Anyway, Some of you may know, I am trying to write a book. Well. I think I told someone. Hm...Maybe not! Anyway, I'm not posting that story here, oh no. What if it gets published (HA), but anyway, that's why that isn't going on. However. I may just randomly be putting up some excerpty things that are written apart from the story line, but about the plot and setting. If that makes sense. (Like random short stories. I guess. Anyway, I really want you fellas and fellows to tell me what you think. From a friends perspective, and someone giving me honest writing advice. I know I make those dumb mistakes like 'and' instead of 'an' which could be fixed by simply reading over it again (and again). But seriously. I need this sort of critiquing because I am always trying to get better, so my dream isn't, you know, unfulfil--"GETONWITHIT"~ Love Nana)

Excerpt from a Book of Aridis, supposedly written by a Receiver, dating back to year 204 of Ari.

"The Divine they say, works in mysterious ways. Well why? Why would what we live by have to be a mystery? It's because they like messing with us. It's certainly easy to see with Loki, the most notable trickster amongst all of our Divine. He tricks rich or well-off people into gambling some of their riches and good fortunes to him. When they lose, he gives that good fortune and gold to those he deems worthy; his followers. The urchins of the streets. He has a particular soft spot for orphans, but really any street rat will do. The next on the list is tied with both Reginulfr and Morrigan. They are tied because they deal with pretty much the same thing; death. Reginulfr is your run of the mill Death. He takes the souls that have been untimely separated, as well as arrange for the deaths of those whose time has come. He works mostly straight forward, but if he gets bored with his job--which is often--he will gamble people with their amount of time left but a betting game, much like Loki. Morrigan, while also dealing in death, works much more subtly. She, as the only "dark" Divine, creates illness and disease. She spreads what we call evil in the world and through people's hearts. She often tricks men into falling in love and ruining it by killing those they love by disease. Behra, while not tricky at all, works mysteriously because she does not like humans very much--she hardly ever comes across one she would bless, not to mention keep safe from harm. Since the War claimed her forest and killed her original followers (The Fay Folk), she is often seen luring people into the forest for food for her carnivorous children. Aridis and Eirik themselves, the Top of the Divine, answer the prayers they receive as objectively as they can--knowing most of the future and the past,-- they sometimes pick humans, which are then called Received, to help curb the future into something that is better for all mankind. They remain vigilante, so they do not fail as Goddess and God again, though never reveal all their plans to their Received. While the other God, Tuat, and Goddess, Eir, are not tricksters at all, they are known to make a bargain with those that pray to them now and again."


Jake scanned the page again, as he read the names of the Goddesses and Gods again, he saw them in his minds' eye: Loki, a skinny boy with dark hair and glittering eyes; Reginulfr, a wolf with long fur; Morrigan, a large black raven; Behra, a gigantic brown bear; Aridis an eagle; Eirik a man in armor; Tuat, a large white bull; and Eir, a unicorn. He had not met them, but he...knew them. Ithea had said that their gifts were everywhere, and that just from being near them, he would start to...feel them. It was more than he could say happened when he went to Church, back in Florida.


Like usual, it was always just too weird to think about his life before he accidentally came here--and not just because Ryan had....died--it seemed like so long ago, but in reality just a week or two. Time passed differently here, he was so much busier than he ever had been. He'd seen so many new and mindboggling things, he could hardly put words to them. He had used magic. His mind had been blown on more than one occasion, from Miranami healing Aston's skull with a few drops squeezed out of a petal from a flower, to teleporting between two magical sources of water--The Star and Day ponds--, to meeting a King, and seeing an entire army march off for battle. In about six days! Jake couldn't imagine living here for an entire lifetime! He was already adventured out--but that was the thing, though. His adventure, was just another-day-in-the-life-of. Ithea told him crazy stories about how she traveled half across the Kingdom with her Lord Father--he was really important in Sarin Politics, and often had to vote in the Council--and Aston usually didn't back away from telling a story about his recent Knighting. Yeah, that's right. Aston was twenty-two and a Knight, for crying out loud.


What had Jake done with his life? He graduated High school with enough scholarships to pay for three years of his eight year college plan. He wanted to be a doctor--a pediatrician. His father died of a car wreck a week after his graduation, the day after his funeral he had somehow been teleported here, to this place. That was his life. He grew up with his cousin, Ryan, who lived with him and his father (and aunt), and they were just normal boys together. Jake was never in any clubs, he was horrible at sports. He got good grades, but what do grades matter when you hang out with Knights and Kings?

[/justify]

[Ann Hudgins]

The Words You Need to Know to Understand This Stuff

Divine Beings and Things:

Aridis: Loosely meaning The Eagle Goddess, she is the ‘creator’ of humans and their Goddess. Her partner is Eirik.

Eirik: Haven’t come up with a meaning for his name. Yet. He is a strong willed dude who helped Aridis create humans and watch over them and stuff.

Reginulfr: Withdrawn by nature, he takes the dead to their resting place until they are born again. He looks like a wolf a lot.

Morrigan: She’s a really creepy bird lady who was makes people sick because she has a lot of hate in her. She has some pretty creepy followers called the Boon.

Loki: Kind of a prick, if you ask me. He steals wins good fortune from the rich and well off to give to orphans. Looks like a seedy teenaged boy, rife with mischief.

Behra: Treehugger of a Goddess. She loves the forest and hates that it got destroyed a while back--it grew back, but it’s just not the same, is it? She looks like a bear most often.

Tuat: Slow in nature, he takes care of the farms and is often found grazing in some random field. He sticks out, though, because he looks like a giant ass white bull.

Eir: She is a colleted being of Aridis and Eirik, filled with her sense of freedom and Eirik’s sense of purpose. She watches over mothers and infant babies. What does she looked like? A unicorn.

Ariheimr: “The Home of Ari.” The place where the Divine’s live when they aren’t meddling in human affairs--this is also where Reginulfr takes the souls.

Places….Locations, That Sort of Thing

Star and Day Pond: Wellsprings in the earth where water naturally seeps through the rocks; see-through, even at night, works as a magic portal between the two ponds--that are separated by a desert and forest--at dawn and dusk accordingly. Also: when animals drink from the fountain, they get really fuckin’ big.

Sarin: The second biggest kingdom to Ardi, they are rather diplomatic, and damn near Democratic. They have a Lord from each city that heads to the Council every month to discuss the news, events, etc. and vote when they have to. The public sorta has a say who a Lord is, but it’s mostly through in heritance. Kinda Democratic. Kinda.

Ardi: The Top of the Kingdom food chain. King Dratan sits on the throne, as his entire family has before him, dating all the way back to the first human settlements. Aridis recognizes his blood line as the first she’d made and because of that, blesses them (when they deserve/need it). Not only the most powerful, but the largest Kingdom, with a population just over one million, including farmlands and nameless villages.

Florida: The mysterious land where these two tanned kids popped out of with wide eyes and strange clothes. They have things like ‘guns,’ and ‘internet.’

Turag: Medium sized city, known best for it's exporting of fragrant oils and perfumes. Target of the Restoration.

Garrett: Pretty tiny village located on the lakeside, it is grouped with Farren, located on the other side of the lake, and ferries travelers and caravans across the lake. Target of the Restoration.

Vehinshire: Governed by Darrin who is out of favor to the Crown at the moment, most known for the Temple of Tuat, and it's sparse forests. Target of the Restoration.

Corin: One of the larger, no-castle cities in Ardi, most known for Ardi University, the leading magical training facility in arguably all of the Kingdoms. Target of the Restoration.

Rahger: Being sparsely populated does not stop this town for producing the best alcoholic beverages that are sought out by all those who can afford it. Target of the Restoration.

Red Valley: Known for being in a 'valley' and for its rich deposits of iron and clay in the soil, it is one of the larger no-castle cities. Target of the Restoration.

Wiltshire: This small and peaceful town is known best for it's flora--which is sought out by botanists--and it's curiously gorgeous women (and men). Target of the Restoration.

Oudan: This swampy settlement isn't high on anyone's list of 'places to see,' for the locals are notorious for eating strange things. Such as alligators, snakes, and whatever else they catch in their traps. Target of the Restoration.

Grast: The largest city without a castle, also known as 'the City of Dreams,' it's famous for its legal gambling, rick folklore, and great luck. Target of the Restoration.

Baldur: Strong military fortress, known for it's 'impenetrable' outer wall and surprisingly docile population. "Target" of the Restoration.

Chantlin: Brilliant military fortress, known for it's hardy soldiers and great ability of survival (being in the desert and whatnot). "Target" of the Restoration.

People!

Jake: For some damn reason, he got sucked through a worm hole with his cousin, Ryan. Ended up in a place called Ardi.

Ithea: Adopted before she could remember, she was given complete birthrights to her father’s estate, he is Lord Graebil of Mintal (city in Sarin). She left on a quest to find her real parents after she was finally told she was adopted. Left with Aston, a long time friend and hired Muscle.

Aston: Hired muscle. Knight at age twenty-two. Doesn’t like to talk about his past-past. Loves Ithea to death but can’t admit it. Neither can she. (Surprised?)

Ryan: Jake’s ever-loving cousin--bigger cousin. He played football in high school. He kinda died…or did he?

King Dratan: He’s the f--king king! He’s got a crown and everything. He’s a great guy. It’s a shame his infant triplets were stolen out of their crib when they were not even a year old. Their mother, the love of his life, was killed in the process.

Gabriel: (No, not that Gabe) Jake’s father. He died…

Dawn: Pawn of the Demurr, was imprisoned after being caught after a mission failure due to negligence. Was in prison for eigthy years, unable to die because his Soul had Mated with another. Was broken out to b a part of the Restoration.

Keera: Dawn's Mate. Location slightly unknown. No idea what she has been up to the past eighty years either.

Ga'riel: Brother to Dratan, also wants his thrown. Money supplier and head of the Restoration; broke Dawn out of prison.

Other!

Spell-weaver: Any woman or man, child or adult, that uses their magical gift to weave spells together by using thoughts, words, rhymes, or written script. Spells are only limited by the individual's imagination and magical ability.

QuickFire: Invented several years ago to increase in storming a castle, this magical fire lets off no heat or smoke as it consumes all it comes in contact with. It's rather hard to put out, once started, so it isn't much used anymore.

Restoration: The assumed name of a group of rebel attackers on two unsuspecting towns. They have made no demands or revealed what exactly they are doing and what-for, but they have everyone's attention.

Soulmate: Every one human has one part of a two-part soul. When the two halves meet, in a bright flash of light, the souls join together and return to Ariheirmer and the two bodies are left behind in an ever-lasting life to live together in an undying love. That is, until they have had enough of life and go to Reginulfr on their own accord and 'die.'

Mirror: One of the many forms of magically conversing with someone that isn't in the same room. The two (or more) pieces of mirror have to be broken from the same mirror, to be 'connected' for the users to communicate.

(will continuously add to this, as is needed)

[Vicky Barnes]

I love these kind of stories! And I really like what you've written so far, so you have at least one person who would seriously consider buying your book if you ever decided to get it published.

Keep it up!

[Ann Hudgins]

The potent fragrance of burnt timber filled the air like humidity. Carnage littered the streets, minds, and hearts of Turag. The attack had come without warning--the town's guard had no whiff of rebellion--and the attackers had run back into the night like bats, shapeless and silhouetted in the night. The market district was the first target. They had used QuickFire, a smokeless and heatless magical creation that few spell-weavers dared bring into existence. The magical fire spread quickly over every surface and burned what normally wouldn't in the presence of natural fire. Mages and spell-weavers alike shy from using it because of it's all-consuming nature, which often turns to engulf the one who created it as well, and its general resistance to water or being doused by magic. These guerrilla attackers rode in on horseback, cloaked in forest green and flying under no banner, and set flame to the buildings and then exited just as they came.



While the town night guard worked to set out the fires that had already eaten half the market street, they did not notice a new band of horse-driven attackers moved in from another direction. This time they attacked the warehouses near the upper-lower class that stored the Crown's winter food reserves as well as weapons, clothes, and other stock-piled things. Unaware of this second attack, the warehouses burned to the ground and moved unrelenting down the street to the homes of the working class. By morning, half the town mourned the loss of the rest, clad in what they had been wearing to bed. Many had not survived the fires, and only few homes even remained. By noon, word had reached the castle of the attack, and just before sundown, a regent of the Crown and wagons to transport the surviving villagers back to the Capital arrived to what was left of Turag to find the 'survivors' had been slain with white feathered arrows. The regent and company made, with haste, back to the capital but were also slain and found the next morning littered with white feathered arrows.



Unrest spread through the Kingdom over night as word passed of the attack by carrier pigeon and mirrors. The questions were the same. Why? Who? How? Turag was not a particularly large town, nor was it important compared to other towns just as close to the Capital and the King's Castle. Turag was known most for it's exporting of perfume oils and flowers, as it was surrounded by rolling meadows and farmlands. The town's governor was not a close friend to the crown, nor was he a bad man. As it was, there was no logical explanation for this attack and no one had stepped forward to claim it.



Things at the castle were in upheaval. The king sent out spies left and right to search for any useful information about it but a week passed with no leads. The smaller towns similar to Turag were scared, the night watch doubled and many families packed up to move to larger cities that were unlikely targets. Nearly three months passed and the attack was nothing but a painful memory. Then it would seem, the unknown enemy had grown bored and struck again, this time on a small lake-side town by the name of Garrett. It was hardly even a town, more of a settlement, as the only thing that kept the town functioning was the ferryboat on the lake. Again, the attackers were cloaked and on horseback. They set flame to a part of the city to draw the attention, and then attacked the other side. In the morning, instead of sending word to the castle they boarded the moored ferryboats and road out into the lake.



A surprise waited them once they drifted further from the coast.



When the boat came in the docks on the other side of the lake, a soul survivor tied to the rutter--amid a boat full of freshly slain corpses--told the guards and harbormaster of the attack and how a boat had waited for them on the lake. The man tied to the rutter was left alive only to steer the boat to a dock and to give out a warning:



The Restoration was coming.

[Eric Bower]

Organization is key. Any system, whether it was economical, military, or civilian needed to be organized. The human organs work in sync with the brain and the other systems inside the body, which keeps things peaceful. Just as nature is in balance with it's food-chain and natural selection. Organization equals equilibrium, and equilibrium equals peace. The same could be said for the darker or more evil side of things. Demurr played the strings of all Seven Kingdoms for nearly two hundred years because its factions and leaders were so tightly bound and oiled. Even something as brilliant and natural as Demurr had to end, however, because that was just the way things were. If it wasn't because of one reason, it was because of another. In this particular case it was one human flaw that ruins again and again; trust.

Dawn will never forget that. It was instilled in him as he was raised and trained by his father. You do not trust, anyone, for any reason, especially if they ask for your trust. Motives and thoughts are invisible and just as unpredictable as the Gods. Dawn knew this rule and followed it. He never trusted. Until he fell in love. Love was the singular human emotion that was more destructive than a storm, or one of Morrigan's illnesses. It ripped families apart; it brought down nations. It was the greatest weapon, and because of the way the Goddess Aridis fabricated humans, it was the only weapon a human cannot use to their advantage. "Soul mates" as the technical term, is what happens when two halves of the same soul meet each other. The souls then join together and return to Ariheimer--The realm of the Divine. The two people left behind live on, together, for as long as they desire because they lack the soul they once had, a normal death entails Reginulfr to retrieve a soul and take it to Ariheimer but since the soul(s) have already gone, the bodies remain functional and unable to die. They live immortally, unable to die or pass on, until they visit a Shrine of Reginulfr and go to Ariheimer on their own accord.

Dawn had been trained since before he could run to not get close to anyone, as his father had been one of the key Trainers in the Demurr organization, Dawn was raised to be a multifaceted tool. He would never meet anyone in the eye, so even if his soulmate was standing right next to him, he would never know about it. So he grew up a killer, and entered into his thirties, the best at his job. It was an unfortunate surprise when a woman fell off a horse was he was walking by and he caught her, out of reflex. Their eyes met for only the shortest of seconds, but that was all it took. Their souls leaked out of their bodies in a flash of brilliant light and merged into one illuminating form and then vanished. Dawn knew what it was to be loved, unconditionally, by a woman who was a pacifist. Loving her was his downfall and what landed him in prison. His sentence was death, but yet he could not die, less he go to Reginulfr. So he rotted in an underground dungeon, surrounded by filthy excuses for humans and two heartless, insane prison guards.

He had been in prison eighty years. Eighty years before he started to plan his escape. His reason for wanting to break out? He missed Keera, it was time to find her and apologize (because she had been wanting him to quit his line of work ever since he had told her about it, and their last conversation had been playing in his mind for almost a century.) His prison cell---as all other cells in the prison---sapped his magic so he was not able to pick the lock, but after eighty years of doing nothing but working out in his eight by five foot cell, he was quite sure he would be able to break the lock with a few good hits from his broken cot. His best chance would be during the changing of the guard, so he waited. The guards left at what was either noon or midnight (there was no sun to go by) but after the usual two minutes, no one returned.

Five minutes....ten minutes....thirty minutes.... He paced back and forth weighing the possible reasons for such a thing. Either someone else in the prison had tried an escape and drawn the attention away, or the prison was under attack. Maybe a particularly dangerous criminal was being shipped and the extra guards were needed to work as extra hands. There were too many possibilities for the old (however young) man to feel comfortable with this. He sat in the shadow of his cell and watched the thick metal door the guards had walked through precisely thirty minutes ago.

After another ten minutes of staring, he heard the jingle of keys and the door swung open. Only the two guards he had grown to know these past fifteen years (his first guards had retired) didn't walk through the door. It was only one man, and he was dressed in what Dawn believed was the current fashion. It held some resemblance to the clothing Dawn remembered, but there were extra things here and there to make it look more of a costume. Either way, the circlet about his head caught his attention more than his bright clothing. He held a superior grin about him, which told Dawn he certainly was some sort of heir to the throne. "So damp down here, eh?" He spoke with an Ardinese accent and Dawn rolled his eyes. The great and 'Noble' Kings of Ardi were pompous and were the main reason the Demurr founded. The Ardinese royalty pulled the strings and worked the insecurities of the other Six while they sat upon their huge piles of gold and bragged about their patron goddess Aridis, the Mother of all humans. They were filth upon the earth, and coming from Dawn that was saying something.

He ground his teeth as the man walked brilliantly over to his cell and held up a key, which really could have went to anything, but Dawn was supposed to believe that this man was going to rescue him. "Dawn of Terjoni I have a proposition for you." He held himself with such confidence, Dawn half believed him.

"Vaffanculo!!" Dawn hadn't actually used his voice in quite some time, that hoarseness really added to his curse. The vehemence in his voice was almost palpable--not to mention his powerful breath sent the pompous man back a few steps.



"I want to bring down Ardi." The man clarified, his pride was obviously hurt a little. Dawn's ears pricked at this new information.

"Mi interressa." Dawn had spent the past eighty years going over his knowledge of the Terjoni (Lower Kindtrin) dialect as well the other languages spoken throughout the peninsula. The man was learned enough to know what he meant and put the key in the lock and in the first time in eighty years, the door swung open, a smile crept upon the dirty man's face, a fire in his eyes flared to life as he took his first step towards his freedom, and Ardi's downfall.

[Eric Bower]

His eyes were sparkling and gleeful in the candle light, his lips parted to make way for his tongue. It slowly moved across his lip as he thought. "The Restoration is lucky to have you on...our side." Ga'riel turned to look at the man he was speaking too. Dawn had cleaned himself up nicely, after Ga'riel had liberated him from prison. Dawn had shaved all of the hair off of his head until his pale scalp glistened in the light, and cut away all traces of his beard, and scrubbed himself so thoroughly his entire body was slightly pink. He was looking a lot better now that he had been having three healthy meals a day, since he gained his freedom a month ago. He had refused to wear the 'stupido' fashions of Ardi, and instead chose to don the clothing of 'his time,' which involved a lot of darkly dyed fabric, leather boots, arm guards and an ancient 'torture device' called a codpiece. Ga'riel didn't want to insult the man with his impractical garments, but no one had worn a codpiece in...well nearly a century.

Despite having enough magic to do so, Dawn had refused to recreate teeth for himself--as he had developed quite a few cavities in prison and lost several of his molars--because he said they would remind him exactly what happens when you let your guard down.

Dawn looked up from the notes he had taken of Ardi. Earlier in the week he had asked Ga'riel to compile every useful bit of information he had, and after that request had been fulfilled, Dawn had spent a few hours questioning Ga'riel about things that weren't included in the piles of documents. Dawn had taken notes on everything from where the strongest foot soldiers in Ardi were located, to the popular local and foreign trade routes, from the locations of the smaller and Lord-less settlements to the names of the Noble families that were out of favor with the crown at the moment and the strongest allies Ardi had in the other Six Kingdoms (actually Five, because Inyo was now a providence of Ardi after a war fifty years ago that Dawn had heard nothing of while in prison). After he had notes on everything he could think of, he isolated himself in the room he had in Ga'riel's estates.

After ten hours of being locked inside his room, he had had Ga'riel sent for to reveal his plan. He had decided to go with a slow approach, to gain favor of the citizens and maybe even some of the nobility. If they could turn favor away from the Crown without causing an all out civil war...Ga'riel would find himself on the thrown much longer--Ga'riel had always denied wanting the thrown for himself, but he fooled no one-- than if they just uprooted the Crown now without gaining support. Ga'riel had thought that much out himself, but he wasn't an experienced behind-the-scenes plotter like Dawn was. Ga'riel needed his expertise, which was why he had broken him out of prison.

"We start with the citizens," Dawn began to explain, he had a map of Ardi stretched out on his work desk, a few towns were circled with his black charcoal with others crossed out and lines going from one to the other, as well as written notes here and there--all in the Kindtrin written language, which Ga'riel was a bit rusty on, from what he could decipher so quickly, they were just notes of his plans that Ga'riel expected to hear momentarily. "The Harvest will be our first target, as it is almost picking season. Peasants start to panic when the price of food goes up, and the Nobles feel threatened if they can't feed the entire town. Then the merchant caravans taste our hand as well, we take mostly clothing, weapons, and magical charms." Dawn waved his hand in the air as he listed their first targets, Ga'riel lifted an eyebrow of interest. "The absence of food, clothing materials and magical charms start to frighten the citizens," Dawn pointed to a few specific towns, that were the ones circled, Ga'riel looked at them with interest. They weren't particularly important cities to the economy, but Ga'riel supposed that was a part of Dawn's plan. He didn't see the difference between one or the other, and kept as much to himself.

"Once the citizens start to get frustrated with those in charge of them, they will start to cluster and talk of needing a better leader. This will unsettle those in charge, who will then make a plea to the crown for the supplies they needed so their peasants can live through the winter. Now, the crown will have to decide which towns--judging either by the population, or by how much he likes the nobles begging for help-- he will send caravans of supplies to them. One town will get stinted, and from what you have told me, I determine this town," he pointed to one he put a star next to (that was also circled), "Vehinshire, to be the very one. As you told me, Lord Darrin, recently insulted the Crown and hasn't kissed his royal culo yet. Because of this further unrest and insult, we shall intercept all caravans, with as few deaths as possible, except the ones to Vehinshire." Dawn paused to take a sip of drink and let what he had said so far sink in. Ga'riel was grinning softly.

"Now, once the outrage reaches through all the streets of these towns," again Dawn pointed out their specific targets, "we will begin recruiting; weaponsmiths, healers, blacksmiths, bards...your garden variety loud-mouths and nay-sayers. We get them on our side. We network. Spies, thieves, pickpockets, ladies maids, cooks, cleaners. Everyone." Dawn sat back in his chair and raised his glossy eyes up to Ga'riel. "After our ground force is spread nicely through them, we focus on Turag," he pointed to one of the scribbled out towns on the map, "and Garrett." Ga'riel opened his mouth to debate the point but Dawn held up a finger. "Look. With these towns: Corin, Rahger, Red Valley, Wiltshire, Oudan, and Grast pissed off and weakened by hunger and starvation, and the towns Turag and Garrett burned to the ground, the forces of Ardi will be cut off. Say we decide that Ardi needs to suffer a huge loss of its fighting force--which I don't recommend--King Dratan will pull the forces from the other stronghold. Say we attack Baldur, and Chantlin is called to the rescue, the whole fighting force will pass through Corin, Red Valley, Wiltshire, and Grast to get there. They won't have the means to re-supply the fighting force, and even if they decide to take what little things they have anyway, the Crown will lose further support from the people in those places. And if they don't sap those towns of their belongings, they will have to go out of their way to restock in a the well off cities. Now, it goes the same way if we attack Chantling--again I do not recommend it, but the strategists in the castle will see the the idea we have set up here. Now, they will start to panic about it because their two biggest strongholds are now caught with their necks out, especially Chantlin, because the main ferryboat across the lake has been destroyed--which will also weaken trade routes.

"I imagine this stage of the plan can be completed by next harvest. Then it is a wait to see how your brother reacts to this, being attacked by a rebellion like this will infuriate everyone and he will be forced to make a quick decision on how to fix this. That is where you step up, gain public favor with your ideas...and then it is on you." Dawn fanned his fingers out with a proud smile on his face. Ga'riel clapped his hands a few times.

"How do we get started?" Ga'riel asked, Dawn smiled again and tapped his map. "Farms. We have to wait until they have been cropped, or we will receive the wrath of Tuat, which I have seen before." Dawn patted his heart and closed his eyes for a moment, warding off the anger of the Gods. They usually do not meddle in the affairs of man, but if they were insulted--like how Tuat protects the crops--they do not blink in exacting revenge or punishment. Ga'riel nodded and took his leave, to inform the other top members of the Restoration of this plan. Dawn, however, sat back down in his chair and adjusted the clutter of paper on his desk to reveal a map of the entire peninsula. He lifted a hand and closed his eyes, as he drifted his hand over the map, he thought about Keera, his soul mate. He had yet been able to take the time to find her, but since Ga'riel knew his plan for the Restoration, as well as had all of his notes on it, he would no longer need Dawn everyday. He would find her now.

His eyes opened when his hand dropped down onto the map like there was a weight on it, when he looked at his hand, it had stopped directly over Ardi Castle--The King's castle. He blinked. What was Keera doing there of all places? He remembered she loved Kindtrin, for it's brilliant beaches and wild flowers, and how she had hated to leave her home for any length of time. He stood and pulled his bag over his shoulder, already packed. Ga'riel need not know where he was going, only how to reach him. Dawn left a mirror he had linked with one his own, if Ga'riel didn't find the note he left sufficient, he could contact him through the mirror. He swung himself out of the window but his descent to the earth did not quicken, he slowed down and touched on the ground as if he took a single step, and hadn't just dropped a few floors. It took a lot of magic to fight against the forces of nature, such a gravity. He sagged sideways at the absence of his magic and the exhaustion that followed but recovered fairly quickly. He saddled the horse Ga'riel had given him and road off into the night, his hood pulled over his head.

(((Many props to Nunu and Neon for helping me name some of the towns mentioned. =3)))

[Ann Hudgins]

Two hundred years into the established Kingdom of Ardi, a farmer and his wife lived peacefully on the land that is now Wiltshire. They grew flowers, planted trees, and bred birds. The farmer and his wife cross-bred different flowers to create new and beautiful species of not only flowers, but trees and birds as well. They loved their creations and poured their hearts and magic into them to help them grow and give them long lives. A traveling bard was injured near their farm, and managed to get himself close to their house, once the farmer found the injured man his wife and himself nursed him back to health with their magical plants and love. He made a perfect recovery and wrote song after song about them in gratitude--he had to tell the world of their kindness. He left and did just what he wanted.

Only people became jealous of hearing tale after tale of these magical plants that saved his life, giant magical trees, and majestically rare birds, so thieves started to sneak onto their farm and start to steal the plants by ripping them up out of the ground, uprooting the tree saplings, and grabbing eggs from nests. After five years, the farmer and his wife's plants and trees grew everywhere--though the birds also nested wherever their eggs were taken, they always seemed to migrate back to the farm where they were created every season. No one bothered the farmers anymore, because they grew everywhere which only pleased the two. They had a son. They named him Bartholomew. They raised him to take over their farm, but all he wanted to do was write. He loved writing; putting words onto paper. He loved when his mother laughed at something he wrote, or all the books his father bought for him. He loved it all. He had responsibilities as their son and only heir so he set it all aside to work on the farm, as a good son. When his parents died, both from age, he buried them on the top of the hill across from his house and planted a single tree--the last tree they had been able to breed--over their grave. Every day at dusk, he would go to the sapling and read some of the things he wrote for his parents. Behra, the goddess of forests and woodlands, heard some of his stories and enjoyed them. She'd been aware of his parents work ever since they had first started and she had been intrigued by their new species of trees, birds, and flowers so she hadn't intervened.

She blessed the tree, so that it would always be there, and the inspiring words he spoke to the tree would be forever engraved in the tree. He never failed to make it to the tree every day at dusk for thirty years, until he became too old to make the trek. He had no family, so when he died, the crown divided up the land and Wiltshire was settled. They preserved the memory of the tree and of Bartholomew and his parents--their birds and flowers now grow wild all throughout Wiltshire. Nowadays, people travel to the tree in hopes of understanding some of his words to help inspire them in their endeavors. Over the centuries, the words and symbols on the bark expanded and grew with the tree--a combination of a willow tree and a Redwood--it grew to impossible heights and thickness.

Ithea smoothed out her tunic in her lap as she crouched on the blanket before the tree. "In His righteous Sight, I am blessed and here I ask for Bartholomew's words to talk to me," she whispered the short prayer request and closed her eyes as her heart suddenly warmed. Through her veins the heat spread to her toes and finger tips. Her eyes tightened in concentration, her fingers twitched against each other as they clasped. A slow breath exhaled from her chest and after another moment she lifted her head to look up at the entirely huge tree in front of her.

"Thank you, Bartholomew. Thank you." She inclined her head respectfully before she stood and backed away from the tree. She took off at a jog down the hill to Aston and Jake and Ryan, who were all circled around their horses brushing them out.

"Men," she announced, "I've got an idea!"