stories

Anger of a clan

2009-04-23T03:06:00.000-07:00

"Elves!" Screeched the head of House Devinn. The female thundered, sending Kennzoj a menacing look, "Those wretched beings stole our warriors two five-days ago!" The massed Rosha's clamoured nearer to the dais, roaring and raising their fists.
Mother Arncyr smiled, taking the chance to spur their anger, "We must destroy the elves, they tore our clan from a hundred to eighty. They attacked us when Jorre's and Liroe's team went to the surface to make peace. Who knew those unforgiving elves would cause harm to our people! We must have revenge!"
The crowd roared louder still, battle lust coursing their veins.
"Tonight!" Mother Arncyr barked, "Losha, Berrin and Horus shall march up to their homes and raid the area!" Tonight, on Blood Moon, we shall have blood on our swords and new supplies for the taking!" The Pharoses clan of House Devinn shouted choruses of agreement and slowly, they dispersed from the Great Hall, each one of them with images of dead elves occupying their minds.

"Mother! You cannot just spin lies to our clan! It was us who attacked the elves and raided their homes and failed!" Kennzoj cried out, "Our people will suffer if we send more out! The thirty Pharoses were killed by skilled elven land-hunters, there's bound to be more numbers dead tonight."
"Silence, you insolent brat!" His mother shot him an angry look. Taking a deep breathe, Mother Arncyr calmed herself down, "Now, dear Kennzoj, no need to defend the elves. We have enough to worry about." She lovingly stroked her son's neck, females had the upper hand, however, males did have their own superiority too.
"Tonight, I'll make sure there will be no evidence," she laughed.

Unknown to Mother Arncyr, her own daughter, Enmlynse, heard all about her devious plot. She knew that by killing the elves, they would have access to the magic of fire. It would benefit them in the harsh winter where the lake's surface would freeze over and the Pharoses would have to conjure up fake fire and produce little warmth for the new low temperatures. Unknown to Mother Arncyr too was the contact that Enmlynse had formed with a young elf called Orinn. After their first chance encounter, Enmlynse had been drawn to the surface whenever she heard a distant flute playing. Slowly but surely, they began to trust each other and formed a bond. Enmlynse knew all too well that if she did not try to warn the elves, she could never have the conscience to play the flute again. Desperately, Enmlynse made up her made and swam rapidly to the surface, she had five more hours till sundown.

******************************************

The elven village was full of life that night, it was the Day of Rosetha. Young males aged eighteen years would dance with the girl whose bouquet of flowers they caught. Orinn had his eyes set on Revirre. He had admired her from afar, her soft white hair and deep set blue eyes caught his attention. She was holding a bouquet of sunflowers. He must remember to catch that. Look around, he saw many of his hot-blooded counterparts were also looking at her. Clad in a dress of purple and pink, it clung to her slender figure, showing off her narrow waist and complimented her figure. The ceremony will not start until the eighth hour of the night. Orinn knew who he wanted. He was determined. Just then, his sharp ears picked out a soft melody from all the excitement that was going on. Enmlynse! What is she doing on land? He asked himself.

Sneaking away quietly from the village, he followed the flute's tune and was glad to see Enmlynse still safe. "Em!" his eyes lit up, "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to warn you," she said breathlessly, "My family, they're-they're coming to-to kill your village."
Bewildered, Orinn pressed for details. Enmlynse felt her energy being zapped by being on land, slowly she told him of her mother's evil plan just before she fainted. Orinn caught her before she hit the ground, running to the lake and placing Enmlynse back in water, she must have forgotten her land enchantment spell as usual, he sighed. Quickly, he let her sink in the cooling liquid of her home and he sprinted back to his village.

Tired, he burst into the elder's tent. "Greyth!" He called, "Pharoses are invading our village tonight!"
The elder spun around slowly, he had already anticipated what was to happen, "I know, the trusted Roshas has already foreseen the future and sent a warning."

**********************************************

Llynna shook, her mind was cracking. The vision of the Pharoses invasion was too great for her soul to bear but she persisted on, asking the Colours to grant her one vision after another. Elves lay slain on the ground and Pharoses were claiming the victory. Her good friend Greyth was at the other end of the mirror, seeing the very images she was seeing in her mind. The rest of the members of the Garreli were also having a hard time controlling their emotions.

Just then, everything changed. Llynna saw a young elf and a Pharoses girl. They were running to the elven village. The war seemed to be evenly matched now, the strong spells of the elves were holding the determined Pharoses off. The vision started to blur and she felt the Colours lift. Groans from around her escaped from the other thirteen mouths. Slowly, she felt a groan come out from her soul too. Then, an image of her own daughter flashed in her mind, the last image the Colours would give her before departing.

Looking into the clear mirror, she saw the young elf in her vision standing beside Greyth. His attention was now on the boy. Some how, Llynna knew that the boy would have a great future. "Orinn," she blurted out. The Colours had given her his name.

Trusting

2009-04-20T06:07:00.001-07:00

"Claraaaa." A voice called out sleepily through the hallway.
Without looking up from her bible, Clara Seraphyne replied, "Yes, daddy?"
"Claraaaaa," his voice came breezily again. Sighing, Clara closed her bible and got off her bed. He must have fallen down again, she thought. There in the hallway stood her drunk father, wearing a white singlet and shorts, no less. The door was wide open and the cold winds were blowing in.

Clara gasped, " Daddy, where's your cloak?"
"What cloak?" He smiled dreamily, " Mary-Sarah, you look ravishing."
"Daddy, I'm Clara. Mum's gone. Where's your jacket?" Clara led her babbling father into the house and sat him down on the red sofa. His favourite.
"Mum? She's gone? Clara, my jacket's gone," he wailed pitifully.
"Daddy, I think you better go upstairs and sleep." Clara waited, she knew that if he pesisted in talking, she would have to lull him to sleep as she always had done in the past few months.
"Sleep, sleep. Clara, is your mother at home?" His words slurred and stumbled, his grey eyes had lost their light.
"Mum's gone." Clara repeated firmly and walked towards the piano by the fireplace. It was her last desperate attempt to make sure he sleeps before twelve. The last time she had let him go on talking, he had almost turned violent.

Amazing grace,
how sweet the sound.

That saved a wretch like me.

I was once lost but now I'm found,

t'was blind but now I see..

*********************************************

Paul Lukyre Androgyms had not always been like that. Two years ago, he was the pastor of Highland East Church of Christ. He had a bright future but all that disappeared when he was caught gambling in a gambling den. The commitee had called for a meeting and it was decided that until he got himself sorted right, he would not be allowed back to be a pastor. He seemed alright with it at first; he turned up regularly for church, participated in cell groups and even had daily devotionals with his daughter.
However, two months after his forced resignation, Clara was at home awaiting her father to come back. He had been staying out later and later than usual. She waited and waited. It was one, then three. Then finally at five in the morning, the doorbell rang. Clara stirred from her nap on the couch. Sleepy-eyed, she opened the door, shocked to be greeted by a policeman and her father beside him. He was red faced, drunk. He stumbled into the house and vomited over the floor, Clara was horrified. The police double checked with Clara her father's identity and finally leaving with a warning to keep an eye on him. "God bless the fallen man," the police had spat before turning into the driveway.

********************************

As she sang the last few verses of the song, light snores could be heard coming from her father. Clara held on to the faith that one day God will come back into his life and restore him to the fine man she had once longed to be. Who knew sin could destroy the very being of a pastor. Throwing a blanket over him, she went back up to her room and cried out.

"God, please, save my father. He loves You, I know he still does. He just stumbled, God. Pick him up, please?"

Opening up her bible, Clara flipped to a random page, a verse caught her eye.

Proverbs 3:5

Trust in the LORD with all your heart

and lean not on your own understanding

Clutching her bible tightly, Clara closed her eyes and prayed for her father. Believing that God will do what He will to save her father.

Mother's love

2009-04-17T18:36:00.000-07:00

Her breathing came in fast short gasps. Her heart quickened and tears flowed down her porcelain smooth cheeks. The shaman stepped away from Meriaten's side, her mother had arrived. Rushing to her daughter's bed, Llynna held her daughter's hand. Meriaten's tears flowed faster and faster. The mother decided it was time. Produce a red gem tied to a thin rope, even in Meriaten's state, she knew what it was- her heartstone.

Lifting her daughter's heavy, sweaty head, Llynna tied the jewel around her neck. Immediately when the gem touched Meriaten's delicate skin, it started glowing. Llynna reached down to her daughter's chest, feeling for her heart beat. It was only then that Meriaten recognised, for the first time, intimacy. The gem shone and etched in the core of the red stone was their family name. House Orlicka, twelfth in the ranks of Karrazobennarre. Even elves found it hard to etch something in the core of a stone without breaking it apart, however, the Rocsha race managed to do that, easily in fact.

Roshas resembled humans, however, almost all Roshas are born female with fair skin, blond hair that is almost close to white and blue eyes. Seldom are males born, and if they were, they were most likely no sentient. Meriaten was the third girl in her family. Ryth was first, a bossy older sister who was the perfect girl to being the next Mother of the Orlicka House; already Misha and Yul, the boys from House Ply, sixth ranking in Karrazobennarre, and House Henorrif, eleventh ranking in Karrazobennarre, were showing an interest in wooing the pretty Ryth. Next was Lorrianne, second child. Boisterous and definitely the opposite of Ryth. Loud and rash, she was not usually called upon to be in the Garreli unlike Ryth.

As her heartstone glowed, it sent a comforting warmth to her heart. Her breathing steadied and color slowly flooded her face again. When Llynna determined that Meriaten was in a safe condition again, she got up and left. Meriaten did not know that this would have most likely been the last time that her mother will actually show real love and care for her. Meriaten knew too that Llynna had delayed in placing her heartstone for a few days after her fourteenth birthday. Perhaps her mother wanted to hang on to the delicate bond between them before she grew up. All girls who reach the age of fourteenth would wear the heartstone. This not only signalled to others that she finally belonged and found a place in her family, it also announced the the available males that she was ready to have a family of her own.

Meriaten tried to call her mother back but no voice came out. Hesitantly, she resigned and let her heartstone heal her. The shaman came back and looked at her curiously before walking out of the tepee. Kirr ran in, a boy two years older than her, "Meri!"
Although her breathlessness came only this morning, the news had spread fast and letting Kirr know was the last thing she wanted. He was her best friend and after Meriaten had gotten her heartstone, she knew that she could not let Kirr see it. He had been ranting on and on about how great it will be when she gets her heartstone, but it did not take long for Meriaten to figure out his motive. Even though many of her friends thought that she and Kirr were most likely to get together, Meriaten also knew that she and Kirr could never get married. His house was ranked below hers and to marry someone in a lesser house was not acceptable. She loved Kirr but it was only as a brotherly one. Meriaten had her eyes on someone else.

"Oh, Meri, Meri. I thought something bad has happened!" Kirr sighed. He saw her breathing had stabilized but the next thing that came out from his mouth was something Meriaten really did not want to hear, " Meri! You finally have your heartstone!"

The boy and flute

2009-04-11T07:56:00.000-07:00

Orinn blew into the silver mouthpiece of his flute. A melodious tune fluttered through the air, breaking the silence of the trees. He stopped and listened, no reply came. Just as he took another breath, he heard it. A beautiful note, soft and warm. Calm and inviting. Orinn quickly took a step forward, the dried leaves on the forest floor did not even rustle- a skill he had acquired since young which his late grandfather had taught him. Stealth and silence is the way of the Underland, he was told. The young elven took a few more steps closer towards the sound. As abruptly the tune started, it stopped.
Orinn hesitated, he reached for his flute once more. This time, he created a soulful tune, pouring his feelings into his very song. Then, it started once more. The reply came, just as he had expected. It joined his song, complimenting it perfectly on the highs and lows. Overjoyed that he had connected with the other party, he slowed down his beat and begin a slow stop. The other still continued playing, Orinn took his chances. Swiftly, he made his way towards the sound again.

He peered from under a bush and caught a glimpse of the other musician. It was a beautiful creature. She sat on a rock near the banks of the lake. Her blue body slender and honey gold hair ran across her chest. She was not naked, Orinn could tell, she was wearing cloth, almost near translucent. Blue cloth, he noted, making her look naked. Her legs were folded, the tips of her toes touching the surface of water, not even making a ripple. The water seemed to connect her legs, flowing down from them, even. The elf of seventeen years of age had never seen a female so close to bare in his life, he could not tear his eyes away from her. She looked graceful, even when playing the flute. She looked up and saw him hiding. Alarmed, the young Pharose dived back into the depths of the lake, bringing her flute with her.

Orinn sighed, he wanted so badly to bring Jervinn to see her. He would have been pleased. Now, no one would believe that he finally found the rare Pharoses who dwelled in the murky darkness of Phelthdatore Lake.

***

Kennzoj saw Enmlynse dived quickly back down. How many times did he have to warn her of the dangers of the surface, he thought. He caught sight of the dreaded flute, Mother would not be pleased. He swam up to her, his fins propelling him fast.
"Emmy! You went to the surface again!" He yelled.
He saw the pleading look in her eyes, he knew he had hurt her.
"Mother will still not be pleased," He looked away, " You had better follow me home."
Enmlynse ducked her head and swam silently beside her brother.
"And hide that flute, or shall I break it for you?" he snapped.
She stared hard at him, " Touch my instrument and suffer fire."
It was enough to quieten Kennzoj. Females had the upper hand in Phelthdatore, they were the ruling class. Men were only in charge of providing seed, but alone, the men were nothing. Kennzoj knew it was only two years away before Enmlynse finally had power over him. He was older, but when she reaches sixteen she would have the power to punish, to procreate, to join her mother and rule the House Devinn. Kennzoj sighed, he will not enjoy the days ahead.