W.i.t.c.h. The Full Story: Part II Chapter 7 - Yan Lin

So I've been getting requests for another chapter of Witch the Full Story. Last night, I lost internet, phone, and cable so I decided, might as well. So here's the new chapter where we see what young Yan Lin can do. :)

Chapter 7

Yan Lin

Meridian

The former Guardian could not count the times she had done this in her life time. Too many of her friends had been imprisoned here and died here. Too many failed attempts at freeing the innocent had taken place here.

But that was a long time ago.

And now, these children were lax.

The second Yan Lin passed through the portal it slammed shut right behind her. She flew as fast as she could and hid behind a pillar some 200 yards away. There she crouched and waited. No one came.

Yan didn’t know whether to feel extremely lucky or insulted.

Better to do this without being noticed, since I have no back up.

Pain shot through her at the thought, but she shoved it away. Being young again obviously made her weak to old emotional wounds. She realized that she wasn’t in the dungeon just yet. Instead she’d landed near the guards’ barracks outside the castle itself. There ways to go, and little time to act.

She gripped the Heart.

Where? She inquired of glowing gem.

Down came the reply.

She started to move out of her hiding spot when a gruff laugh froze her.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen Vathek so happy about letting a rebel starve to death,” one guard’s deep bass rumbled. “I mean, he normally enjoys doing something more… Painful. I mean, just letting him die in the southern oubliette? That’s not….”

As they’re voices faded away Yan thanked the Creator for stupid gossips. Now she knew where he was. She only needed to figure out where the southern oubliette was.

It was almost like a game of tag, except everyone else didn’t know they were playing. She jumped from hiding spot to hiding spot searching for a hole in the dark. Several times she was sure she had been spotted by the guards but the rebels had not broken into the palace itself for over half a century. The guards knew that problems would only come from the prisoners, and they were treated so badly that within the first two days all resistance was crushed.

Yan learned everything she needed to from the gossiping guards who kept trying to one-up each other. His name was Kaleb, and descended from rebels. His father had been one of the two leaders who had rebuilt the rebellion after Nerissa’s betrayal. He wasn’t a leader, but had some information of value. Turned out he was tough. No matter what they did to him, even when they killed a child right in front of him, he never gave in. He spat, kick like a mule, a cursed them through it all. Nothing subdued him.

Yan grinned as she flew through the labyrinth. It was an honor to meet someone that tough. Cassidy had been that tough. Yan hoped Will was that tough. She suspected the redhead was.

Time is short, the heart informed her. Go, and I will tell you if it is wrong.

She thanked the Heart, and started to move.

“Hey!”

Yan jumped. She’d let her guard down as she reminisced.

“Intruder!” The Guldon sounded the alarm.

Time to reveal thyself. Attack and keep moving.

Yan didn’t hesitate to summon a blast of hurricane wind that tossed the guards around like paper. She opted for speed over stealth and moved a tornado through the barracks and down to the prison below. Now it was a guessing game. Being underground bottled up the win which was her guide, so her sense of direction was gone. She had to pick a direction and let the Heart correct her.

I doubt you will give me a hint?

Down.

So very helpful.

Despite her flying in basically circles for a bit she moved quickly, flying at close to top speed, down stairs and in and out of corridors filled with screaming and crying and dead prisoners. Yan did her best to ignore those she couldn’t save, focusing instead on finding the one boy who would perhaps ends this suffering. She also ignored the guards, who couldn’t keep up with her. By the time she was down to the third level they were everywhere.

Yan had started training at 10 years old to be the new generation of Guardians, as each had before her, until her generation was broken with betrayal. Her winds shielded her from arrows, reflecting them back onto the archers, buffeting those with nets and weighted chains into each other’s aim, knocking those with spears into walls and their companions. She quickly blew through them onto the fourth level.

The prisoners soon caught onto what was happening, and began to help her. They tripped up and strangled what guards they could reach, shouting jeers and cheers at the guards and her in turn. The din made it harder for them to find her, and they were distracted beating back the prisoners rather than focusing on her. She made her way deeper and deeper until the Heart called to her again.

This level.

She began flying. It told her when she missed the turns, when to turn right or left. Certain she was going in circles she flew on until…

You passed it, go back.

When she reached the previous corridor lined with cells, the Heart informed her it was here. She landed and walked into the dark until the Heart called a halt.

You stand above him now.

Wishing that Halinor was there to light the chamber, she fell to her knees, and began feeling the floor for the edge of the lid to the hole they’d stuck Kaleb in. The thunder of feet and roar of the guards grew closer.

I need light.

The Heart lit up brilliant, and saw she the trapdoor immediately. As the pink stone’s light faded, she called to her power and used it to carry her voice down into the stinking pit below.

“KALEB! MOVE AWAY FROM THE CENTER! I’M GETTING YOU OUT!”

She waited as long as she dared. Praying that he was not curled up beneath her, she summoned air, compressing it into a small ball, flew up to the ceiling, and then threw it. It crumbled and fell into the darkness. Still praying he still lived, she fell down into the darkness below.

W.i.t.c.h. The Full Story: Part II Chapter 5 - Kaleb

I know, I know. I haven't written a post on here in forever, and I haven't posted writing in months! I've been cranking out the videos, and focusing on that, but never fear, I've been planning and plotting my writing, but after a page of writing my hand cramps up. That's not enough to post, and it takes a while for it to recover. I'm currently in my brace right now.

Anywho, during #AYearAThon this month I read W.i.t.c.h. 10 A Bridge Between Worlds, and I've been dying to write more on this ever since! So it's FINALLY out! I may just do a second chapter right after this one, if my right hand holds.

It's short, but here it is!

Chapter 5

Kaleb

Meridian

He was thirteen. Young, arrogant, and self-assured, Kaleb was positive he was ready to join the rebellion. Not that Aldurin would listen.

“But my father was the leader!” Kaleb yelled at the now thirty-seven-year-old Quelthar.

“That’s why I don’t want you to join,” Aldurin replied. “They targeted himbecause he was the leader, and now you’re living with me.”

Kaleb turned away, furious. Aldarn had heard his two sons were training in private to take the trials to join the black, double life of a traitor. So the old smith had browbeaten his blood son first, and now it was Kaleb’s turn. The tall young man refused to be demeaned into obedience without a fight.

“Yes, I’m living with you now, but you can barely afford me!” Kaleb ruthlessly pointed out. When Aldurin’s right eyebrow twitched slightly, he knew that he’d touched a nerve. He plowed on. “You took me in, and taught me that I have to work to eat, and I know that’s a truth. I have lived that truth here in the forge, and in the fields. But I want to do more!” Kaleb lowered his voice, and tried to plead for understanding. “Father,” he begged, “I want to help those who were wronged, like I was. I want to protect people from my fate, and the fate of everyone here. Please. Grant me an audience for a trial.”

Aldurin was not an old man, but he looked it. Years of suffering and pain, of oppression and sorrow, had aged him. Thirty-seven years was a long time to watch the innocent suffer, and the artisan wore the burden as a cloak that would never be removed. Looking back Kaleb knew that his refusal was an attempt to spare the last of Lei’s family, but at the time, it only annoyed him. He could not fathom the strength of faith in him that Aldurin had to summon before the ironsmith shut his eyes and grunted, “Fine, but any slacking off before then, and you don’t get one, and you don’t eat.”

Excitement flooded the young man, and he began to jump up and down, chanting, “Thank you, I won’t let you down! I—”

Pain cut the memory off short. His right arm felt as if it had been ripped open and boiling oil had been poured inside. Jerking awake with a cry, Kaleb curled up around the broken limb. It took him a few seconds to realize something smelled terrible, and that something was chattering away to him.

“So sorry, honorable master Human sir! Blunk did not mean to hurt Human rebel’s arm, sir! Blunk only wanted—”

Kaleb had had enough. He’d been reliving a wonderful memory. In fact, it was perhaps the happiest time in his life, save when his family had been alive. But he could barely remember back to that time. His life in Aimbrish was all he had to reflect on, and being there again had been a blessing as he slowly starved to death in this tiny hole with the stupid little Passling.

Enraged he punched the small, stinky creature, and then curled up to sleep.

“No, no, Human sir!” Poor Blunk was breathless, but still managed to stumble to his feet. Although in pain, exhausted, sick, and starving, Kaleb felt a little bad for striking the runty, green being.

“What do you want, Passling?” He groaned, his eyes closed. “Did you find food?”

“No sir, something better!”

“Like what?” He asked.

“Well Blunk did not find it, Human rebel sir, but it’s there!”

“What is?”

“A portal, sir! A portal to a different world just opened up! And it’s right above us, in the chamber where the opening is!”

That got Kaleb up.

FanFic Poem ~ Lily's Inner Tears

So, I was feeling pretty depressed and mad at myself for losing my temper (what else is new, right?). And I realised that instead of thinking in the mode of a story, which is freakish-normal for me, I was thinking in the terms of a poem.

So I decided to write a poem.

At first it was for me, and how I felt, but then I realised that it was more like how Lily feels.

Now, you all know by now that I'm the editor/beta for LA Knight, aka Ray, aka my bestie/best friend for all of eternity. And she's published several books now, two of which are from her Twilight Chessboard series. Well, if you haven't picked it up yet (shame on you! Unless you're from another coutry. Sadly Amazon won't ship outside of the US or Canada. Boo on you, Amazon!), Lily is the protaginist, or the badguy in the first two novels. She tears up peoples lives, as well as their bodies. And in more than one case, she kills them. Not personally, but they died because she said so.

Anywho, Lily Whitmoore is evil, evil, EVIL. Right?

Sort of. See, her father's the *real* nasty here. He abuses her, and so does her mother. She thinks terribly of herself because of it, and takes that out, which is what they taught her to do, literallly, on other people. Namely Jack, the male lead.

At the end of book 2 *SPOILER IF YOU CARE* she loses to Alyssa, the main character, and to save her life from her psychotic father, moves in with Alyssa. *END OF SPOILER THANK YOU*

So that's where this is coming from.

Also, please check it out on Figtment and give it a heart, if you would. 'Kay thanks!
http://figment.com/books/748820-Lily-s-Tears

Do you ever feel this?

Trapped, alone,

Lost, forsaken,

Unrecognized

Never gonna be good enough

Never can be good enough

Look in the mirror

See the flaws

Nod to yourself

That’s why no one cares

I see you

Happy

Loved

Cared for

Recognized

Everything I am not

Stupid failure

Stupid girl

Who’d want you

Abandoned by your mother

Your father, your brother

Your friend

My friend

He’s gone.

Gone

And he’s never coming back

Because I’m not good enough.

And I wonder

Do you ever feel this?

Of course not.

Because you have him.

W.i.t.c.h. The Full Story: Part II Chapter 3 - Yan Lin

Hey guys!

Sorry for not uploading last week, this is the first time in over a week that I've felt healthy enough to work at ALL. I've been battling the flu, or a super cold, but it tastes like the flu. Ugh! *shudders* Anyway, I've gotten better a tiny bit each day, and today I've felt my best yet! Barely coughed at all!

So tonight, I decided to just work a little. I managed to get a chap of this done, although I'm stuck on Warrior (go figure). It's a short chapter, but I think it's good! Let me know what you think!!!

Chapter 3

Yan Lin

Earth

 

Yan Lin’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she felt the pull. She’d been describing their house lo mein to an elderly couple from out of town when she’d felt a tug on her heart, and a soft voice whispering over and over to come up the stairs. Recognizing it as the Heart, Yan flagged a waiter over to finish taking their orders, and then headed upstairs again. After tossing out some underwear and ancient clothes that’d hid the glowing jewel from her family, she gently removed the tiny, pink gem from the elegant box that kept it safe. Just before the whispering stopped and the vision began, she laid on her bed. Then darkness came and took her away.

 

           The last time she’d seen the young man, he was daring an angry customer to continue to push him. But he was daring no more. Slumped in the dark, full of too much pain to move, he watched the outline of the Passling as it sniffed here and there, wondering if there was anything to eat, rotten or not. Through the power of the Heart, she was able to see the terrible marks that covered him, and the farseeing stare that revealed he’d been tortured, and tortured extensively. He cradled his right arm carefully against his chest. Yan saw that it was a compound fracture, with part of the bone sticking out. If that wound remained untreated, he’d be disfigured for life.

This is a Bringer of Light.

The voice boomed from the center of the vision, deep in Yan’s mind. She knew that voice. She trusted it.

His world will fade and die in Darkness without him. They cannot help him. They cannot win without him.

She knew the rest before it even began. The new Guardians could never be convinced of their powers, their duty, in time. He’d die from thirst long before the girls would be strong enough to dive into the palace dungeons and get him.

But you can. You have powers still, and will until the new generation is ready. He must be saved.

He slipped into unconsciousness, hoping to never wake again.

 

Yan woke up feeling sick to her stomach. When she sat up, a drop of water on her hand startled her. That’s when she realized she was crying, had since she’d seen him in the dungeon. She knew that place. Knew it, and hated it. Too many close friends and good people had died there in the dark beneath Phobos’s palace.

Feeling emotionally drained, Yan got to her feet. She headed to the bathroom to wash the tears from her face, then almost jumped when she saw her reflection. The moment the Heart had called to her, she thought she was only nineteen again, since it hadn’t spoken to her in over fifty years. But her young face had lost its elasticity; her silky black hair had become wispy and gray. The Guardian of Air was nineteen no longer—she was seventy-four.

Unbeknownst to her, the Heart had placed itself around her neck. She stared at it for a second, and then whispered aloud.

“How can I do this?” Her Mandarin came out harsh, no longer the musical song it used to be. “I am not young. I have no strength. I can’t do this.”

The Heart simply glowed. The light and warmth that poured from the jewel into her chest comforted her in a way that nothing else could have. Yan gripped it tightly. Suddenly the warmth covered all of her body, and a purple light filled her vision. The aches from old wounds and living for far too long faded away, and the strength of youth swelled up from a long-forgotten life. Her crooked back straightened, her hair thickened, the arthritis dissipated, the ignored pains of old healed.

And then it was gone. The warmth had completely evaporated.

But Yan still felt incredibly strong. She’d clamped her eyes tightly shut to save her eyesight. Now, panting, feeling a deep fear, and an even deeper hope, the former Guardian opened her eyes.

It’d been a shock to see herself as an old woman. And yet it seemed only natural for her to look in the mirror and see herself as she had appeared so many years ago. She wore the purple and blue of the Guardians of Meridian in the style of a male changshan. Her high-necked, purple top had long, flowing sleeves and the blue, cropped pants had billowy, wide legs. The snow-white hair was no longer down to her knees; it was cut short and was now the same blue-black that Hay Lin had inherited. And on her back was a pair of glittering, green wings.

After studying her reflection for a few moments, the current Guardian of Air took a deep breath.

“You better still be alive, boy,” Yan sang out in her native tongue, gripping the Heart again.

Then she did something she hadn’t in a very long time. She flew.

W.i.t.c.h. The Full Story Part II Chapter 2 - Cornelia

WOW! I've written 3, yes, 3 poems today, AND a chapter!

BOOYAH!

And my hand isn't bugging me at ALL! YAY!

My right foot is, but that's because I twisted it while working out. But that's another story.

ONTO MY CHAPTER!

It's much shorter than the first one, that one was kinda huge. Oh well. This one has more plot development :)

Oh, and one more thing! The reason Part II is called The War Resumes is because episode 2 of the show is "It Resumes". And episode 1? "It Begins". The first book is called "The Power of Five". So going after the "Begins, Resumes" ideas, I called Part 1 It Begins, and Part 2 The War Resumes. :)

So, here it is! Enjoy!!!

Chapter 2

Cornelia

Heatherfield

Wednesday, Cornelia told the girls to meet at her place to plan their costumes for the dance Friday. She was determined to outlook the Grumper Sisters no matter what. Come Friday, Bess and Courtney wouldn’t know what hit them!

Taranee and Will seemed impressed with Cornelia’s house. It wasn’t a mansion—okay, it was. Cornelia’s dad owned a local Credit Union that had seriously expanded during the recession. She didn’t think it was all that impressive, not compared to the Grumper Sisters’s manor on the outskirts of town, anyway.

"So, Cornelia," Will said as she followed the blonde up a beautiful staircase. "Why the need to beat the Grumper Sisters, anyway?"

"Because she has to be first in the world," Irma answered for her. "At everything."

"Those two have had it coming for a long time," Cornelia told Will, ignoring Irma.

"Yeah, because they wore the same shirt in kindergarten," Hay Lin laughed.

"It’s pathetic, really."

Cornelia froze, trying not to grind her teeth.

Her baby sister, Lillian was standing there, her arms folded. She was eight years old, with her blonde cut in a bob, and wearing her favorite color, pink, as usual. Her favorite thing to do was follow Cornelia around and bug her. Or play pranks on her. Cornelia couldn’t stand her, and it looked like the little brat was going to try to follow them.

"Go away, Lillian," Cornelia said coldly.

"Who’re they?" She was pointing to Will and Taranee. They opened their mouths, probably to introduce themselves, but Cornelia quickly said, "None of your business, so buzz off!"

She grabbed her sisters arm and pushed her away.

"Fine! I’m telling mom you’re failing math!"

As she rush down the stairs Cornelia called, "She’s not here, so NEH!" She stuck her tongue out at her.

Hay Lin and Elyon cracked up.

"Very mature, Cornelia," Elyon giggled. "Sticking your tongue out and all."

"You really showed her who’s boss," Irma said, rolling her eyes.

"You don’t have to live with her," Cornelia muttered, trying to hide her blush.

"Geez, Cornelia!" Will exclaimed with they entered her room.

"You know, I think you should go shopping again," Irma told her.

"Why?" Cornelia turned to her walk in closet that her father had built for her custom last summer. It was larger than anyone else’s at school, even the Grumper Sisters. Well, at least one of the Grumper Sisters. Cornelia had made sure of it. She had to drop fifty bucks of her own to find out, but it was worth it.

 

Too bad Mrs. Grumper’s a model, she thought. That’s the only reason they have more designer things than I do.

 

"Yeah, doesn’t she have enough?" Taranee squeaked.

"I think there’s at least one top in the city that Cornelia doesn’t own," Irma said. She threw her arm over her forehead and pretended to choke out, "What a tragedy!"

Everyone laughed again. Cornelia even grinned, especially when the pillow she threw knocked Irma off her bed. After an impromptu pillow fight, they changed out of their uniforms and into some clothes. Will and Taranee had, once again, forgotten to bring street clothes, but Cornelia had more than enough for them to borrow.

"So, what should we wear to the dance Friday?" Will asked. "And PLEASE don’t say dresses. I…just…no."

"OOH!" Elyon cried, clapping her hands. "We should go as fairies!"

Everyone in the room froze at the word "fairies", as if she’d yelled a curse word. Elyon looked around, confused by her friends’ reaction. "What?"

"I dreamed I was a fairy," Taranee said. "The same dream, for the past couple of nights."

"Really? Me, too!" Hay Lin said. "I could fly, and I wasn’t small or anything, but I could control the air."

"No way, I could control fire!" Taranee said.

The hair on the back of Cornelia’s neck stood up. Before she could say anything, though, Irma said, "I could control water. And fly. But I could make water fly too. It was so cool!"

"I could control earth," Cornelia made herself say. "Every dream. Lillian woke me up both nights, and every time I fell asleep, I dreamed the same thing. I was an earth fairy, except—"

"You were older?" Will asked.

"No way, you had these dreams too?" Elyon gasped. When Will nodded, she frowned. "Why haven’t I?"

"I have no idea, but it wasn’t all magical," Will told her. "In every dream, there was this necklace that was guiding me, and there were monsters chasing me."

"Me, too!" Hay Lin said.

"So the five of us all had the same dream?" Cornelia clarified. She slid down the wall and sat on the floor.

"Yup."

"Sounds like it."

"Pretty much."

"Except for me!" Elyon cried. "I wish I dreamed about being a fairy! I’ve always wanted to fly."

"So, I guess being fairies are out?" Taranee asked.

"No kidding," Irma replied. "We’re fairies way too much already."

　

Everyone grabbed a bite to eat, then headed home via the bus. After waiting with them for a bit, Cornelia headed home, but didn’t go inside. When she wanted think there was only one place for her to go, her garden.

It really was a small garden just off of the huge one that surrounded her house a landscaping company took care off for her parents. But this little corner was entirely her own; the company wasn’t allowed to do more than water and weed there. All plants were her choice, and she handled her own pruning and trimming. As she wandered among her babies, as she privately called them, she noticed a weed here, and random shoot there. She tidied some things up, and while she checked on one that caterpillars had been eating up over the past month, she thought about what she hadn’t told her friends.

There were more than just dreams.

Cornelia had powers.

She couldn’t fly, and didn’t have wings, and certainly wasn’t older. But as she studied the plant, the chewed up stems healed, its color brightened, and the entire thing started growing. Same with the flowers she checked on next, and the little bonsai tree she’d begged her parents to buy off a salesmen on the side of the road a couple years back. She really did have the powers of her dreams, making plants grow. Perhaps she really could summon giant vines or move the earth like she had in her dreams. Whenever a monster had gotten too close to her, BOOM! The ground split and down they went. The ones that survived had been tangled in monster plants that smothered them or held them prisoner.

Cornelia frowned at the gravel beneath her feet and will it to move, shift, something! But nothing happened. Then her cell was going off, and it was time to go back to the real world, where plants didn’t grow twice their size in a few seconds, and the ground stand where it belonged.

It was Irma. Cornelia wondered what Irma was going to make fun of her for this time, but she still answered.

"Hey, Cornelia?"

"What’s up?"

"Um…Remember when I told you I could make water fly? I-in my dreams?"

Cornelia frowned. "Yeah?"

"Well, I’m doing it. Right now."

W.i.t.c.h. The Full Story: Part I Chapter 7 - Taranee

WHOOPS!

Forgot to post this on here. Oopsie!

Chapter 7

Taranee - Earth

 

When they reached the Lins’ Restaurant, Hay Lin led them to a small, side door that led up to her family’s apartment above. Taranee couldn’t wait to get something to eat. Her growling stomach continued to remind her that lunch had ended several hours before. When they finally reached the quaint apartment, no one really wanted tea, so they settled for dragon fruit juice with their cookies. Taranee relaxed as they talked about which boys were cute and which teachers let late homework slide a little.

When half the almond cookies Hay Lin found and most of Will’s chocolate chip cookies were gone, a tiny, old woman came in and greeted Hay Lin, Cornelia and Irma warmly. It was Yan Lin, Hay Lin’s grandmother.

“And who are these two beauties?” She asked Hay Lin.

Both Taranee and Will blushed and gave their names.

“Welcome to our apartment,” the tiny woman said, taking the sixth chair. “You know, a few days ago I had the strangest dream that reminded me of a story I heard when I was your age.”

“Oh, Grandma, not a story,” Hay Lin said, turning pink.

“Hush, xaio Hay,” Yan Lin said to her granddaughter. “I think you will all find this tale more than entertaining.

“In the universe, there are many worlds,” she began. “Some are evil, some are good, and some, like our own, are a mix. One world that is mixed is Kandrokar, home to Meridian. Long ago, the king and queen of Meridian were evil, while most of their people and their youngest child were not.

“Seeing the people’s suffering, the youngest prince prayed that someone with heart and courage would come to end the people’s suffering and put a stop to his parents’ evil. His prayer was heard, and here on Earth five young girls were chosen to become Guardians of Light and protectors of the innocent.

“Together, the prince and the Guardians managed to defeat the evil king and queen, but when they did, the prince had changed. Prince Phobos used evil magic to make himself immortal, and a powerful sorcerer, one too strong for the Guardians to defeat. So they placed a powerful veil over the world, a shield to keep his darkness from spreading to other worlds, including our own.

“But the shield did nothing more than buy the Guardians time. Eventually they passed away, and new Guardians took their place. All the while, Phobos was waiting, biding his time and building his strength. And there he remains still, waiting for the veil to weaken enough to come to our world, and bring it into his thrall.”

While Yan had talked, Taranee had seen everything in her mind, almost like a movie. She’d seen the different worlds, and the sorrow of the people trapped on Meridian. Prince Phobos looked very handsome to her, but somehow that only made him scarier. And she imagined the Guardians, fighting for the people, pouring every ounce of their strength into the veil that protected their world.

What’s wrong with me? Taranee chided herself. It’s just a story! There’s no such thing as Meridian or Guardians. Right?

“What sort of powers did the Guardians have, Grandma?” Hay Lin asked. “I bet their outfits were like super cool and stuff!”

“I bet they were beautiful!” Cornelia said.

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s important when you’re beating the crap out of crazy monsters,” Irma said dryly.

“Their outfits were super cool,” Yan assured them. “And they were quite beautiful, even during battle. As for their powers, one controlled air,” she said, looking at Hay Lin, then Taranee, “and another fire. A third had earth, the fourth used water.” She’d been looking at Cornelia, then Irma. She turned her ancient eyes to Will, who hadn’t moved during the story. “The fifth and leader had the power of Quintessence.”

“Quinn-what?” Taranee asked.

“Quintessence,” Yan Lin repeated. “The power to use the Heart of Kandrokar, the source of the Guardians’ power. Only the leader could use it.”

After a long moment, Yan rose again. “Well, didn’t I tell you it would be entertaining?”

“Thanks for the story Mrs. Lin,” Will said, placing her half-eaten cookie back on her plate. “It was…different.”

Yan smiled at them all. “Will any of you be joining us for dinner?”

They all said they had made other plans, which wasn’t true. Taranee hadn’t, and the others had talked about staying. But Taranee couldn’t get the story out of her mind, couldn’t stop imagining a tall guardian with long, braided, blue hair, wielding the power of fire like it was nothing.

No, she wasn’t staying for dinner.

Stop it, she told herself as she boarded the bus. There’s no such thing as a Guardian of Light.

But while her mind kept telling her that, her heart longed to have the power of fire. She wanted to be a Guardian. Whether it was real or not, she really did.

W.i.t.c.h. The Full Story: Part II The War Resumes Chapter 1 - Kaleb

WOW! That took FOREVER! I had to do quite a few background things, and lots of things have been getting in the way (like no internet). But I'M BACK with a NEW chap!!!

And it's not super short (currently working with LA Knight to get part 1 chapter 7 a little bit longer) so ENJOY!!!

Part II

The War Resumes

Chapter 1

Kaleb

Meridian

 

While most of Kaleb’s pain from the fall into the oubliette faded as he fell asleep, the pain in his right arm only intensified, pulling him back to the dark world that he’d spend the rest of his life in. The hole really was dark, but it wasn’t pitch black as he’d originally thought. In the dungeon above there were torches, though none were at the oubliette’s maw. The faint glow bounced off the opening above him, just enough so Kaleb could tell the floor from the wall, and a rock from the floor.

And he could also tell that something short and smelly was standing right next to him. As whatever it was realized Kaleb could see it, it ran at him and grabbed at his clothes. Kaleb attempted to throw it back with his right arm, and ended up dizzy as stars exploded across his vision. The creature squalled and tried to run off, but Kaleb managed to grasp it before it could escape.

“AH! MERCY! MERCY!!” Whatever he held shook in fear

“What the—?”

“Please, Blunk not steal! Blunk trade! Rat for bread! Good deal, yes?”

Kaleb tossed Blunk away from him. “Ugh, you’re that smuggler!”

“Businessman!” Blunk corrected. Blunk was a Passling, short, green, toad-like creatures who managed to find the tiniest holes in the Veil that shielded Kandrokar from the rest of the universe. While only the Guardians could pass through the Veil at will, Passlings could smell the tiny holes that appeared every once in a while that they’d squeeze through. The rebels could really use that skill, if the Passlings managed to bring anything back other than the trash and junk they tried to trade or sell. Blunk must’ve gotten on the wrong side of Phobos himself to end up in the oubliette.

Kaleb glared at the little ball of black that moved around easily over the broken ground. He knew where…Blunk, was, mostly from the smell. How something could stink so much and still be alive was beyond him.

“I don’t have any bread,” Kaleb told him.

“Lies! I smell. Yummy, yummy bread! But traded for rat; good deal!”

Blunk began eating the bread he’d found in Kaleb’s jacket. Kaleb shook his head.

“Go ahead,” Kaleb said. “I’ve worked too hard for freedom to perish in a hole with a talking pickle!”

“Pickle, heh heh—HEY!”

“I’m getting out of here,” Kaleb said to himself, ignoring Blunk’s muttering.

“Too high, never make it.”

Kaleb scoffed and began climbing. “Have you ever even tri—”

His right foot slipped and he tumbled down to the floor, right on top of a skeleton. Horrified and embarrassed, Kaleb scrambled back, trying not to groan at his arm’s pain.

“Thirty-seven-hundred times,” Blunk replied, then spat something out. “Ow! Nasty, hard bread!”

Kaleb froze, staring in the dim light at what Blunk had spat onto the ground. It was a key. Kaleb had been chained to the walls of the oubliette before being dropped down. The man Kaleb had landed on still wore his chains, but perhaps with free hands…

He tried over and over, each fall making the ache in his arm worse and worse. The fifth or so time, Kaleb landed on it. An electric shock of pain raced through him, pulling him down into the black abyss of unconsciousness.

 

 

He could hear the screaming, smell the smoke.

“Run, Kaleb!” His father roared at him while his older brother Karn used his scythe to block a Quelthar guardsman. “Run to the forest, quick now!”

Kaleb ran. At nine, he could barely shoot a bow, least of all fight the fifty or so guards raiding his family’s small farm. They’d barely survived on their own food, selling just enough to buy what they couldn’t grow or hunt. Why the guards were there, Kaleb didn’t know. So he ran deep into the woods, crouching among an old tree’s roots until the noises in the distance stopped. But he was too frightened, too afraid of the silence to venture back out into the night, so he spent the night in that hole with the spiders and worms until dawn’s light awakened him.

He crept out of his hiding spot that always served him when he played hide-and-seek with his older brother during a lazy spring day. Half crawling across the cool ground, Kaleb hesitated when he reached open ground. Steeling himself to run again, Kaleb sprinting into the fields across from his house. At first he wasn’t sure what he was seeing, but as he drew closer, he saw, and he froze.

His house was gone. Gone. Only blackened boards stood, leaning against the remnants of his life. And there, on the tree beside their home, hanging beside the very swing his father had crafted for him and his brother and his baby sister, were the bodies of his mother and brother.

Kaleb fell to the ground and screamed.

 

 

He was ten now, and months in the woods had hardened him. Now he’d reached a village he didn’t know, one very different from the mostly human one his father had often visited. This village was smaller, with walls about it guarded by eagle-eyed Quelthar, Guldons, Humans, and even a Lurden. The only way Kaleb had managed to get in was by sliding inside a covered wagon full of potatoes and other, thin, lank vegetables.

The village may have been small, but it was packed with all the races of Kandrokar, some from far across the seas away from Meridian. Kaleb saw a few he didn’t recognize at all. But he did his best not to stare, and focused on chewing the yellow celery and tiny purple carrots he’d taken. He’d lived off roots, berries and mushrooms in the forest, as well as a few animals he’d managed to trap. What he really missed, though, was a full meal; soup with gloriously soft bread and a cup of milk with a fresh pie for dessert. He could see his mother smiling at him as he attempted to eat as much as his father and brother…

Stop it! He snapped as himself, refusing to acknowledge the tears in his eyes. Enough. They’re gone, thanks to the King’s guardsmen…

Then Kaleb looked up and saw an old Quelthar woman slowly walking the market on her cane, a basket on her arm with fresh bread in it. His father and mother had taught him to never steal, that it was wrong, but his father was gone and his mother was dead. So he shoved their voices from his mind, started to run and grabbed the bread as he raced by. He ignored his guilt, his fear, and the woman’s cries as he sped through the busy market and headed down first one alley, then another. Eventually he came to an older, abandoned building. The door was locked, but it was nothing for him to climb up the wall and through a window with broken shutters. It was only a small gap, but Kaleb had become so skinny that it was easy.

The outside may have appeared to be a closed, broken-down building, but the inside was stacked with crates and barrels. Kaleb wandered a bit, looking for a good spot to sit down and enjoy his bread…

He turned a corner and froze, completely shocked. There, against the wall were dozens of spears, staves, halberds and pikes. Weapons were illegal, everyone knew that. No serf or commoner could bear them without express permission from the king. Sure, guardsmen could bear a bow or sword, but there were only about a dozen or so per village. But this, this was an armory. This was dangerous.

I’ve got to get out of here!

Kaleb spun to head for his window—

And smacked into a tall, male Quelthar’s chest.

He tried to run away, but the man held him fast. Kaleb tried to fight him but a sharp shake put an end to that.

“Well, looks like I found Miss Dorla’s thief, eh, boy?”

Kaleb didn’t fight when they took the bread he hadn’t tasted away, along with his vegetables.

“And Farmer Larlin too?”

He only hung his head as the man’s grip tightened enough to bruise, and didn’t struggle as the man dragged him out to a larger room where the old woman, Miss Dorla, was speaking with several other Quelthar and a few Guldons.

“Is this the boy, Dorla?” The man forced Kaleb to look up at her as she took her bread back.

“Yes, he is,” the woman snapped. She wagged a finger in his face. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, young man. How dare you steal from me, or anyone else in this village! What would your mother say?”

Kaleb refused to think of the answer to that. If he did, then he’d cry. They were going to beat him anyway, at least the hunters who’d caught him before had beaten him, so he refused to cry at all. Only made the beating worse. His father had taught him to take his punishments like a man—he’d also taught him to never steal, but that was a mute point when you were starving—and that’s what he was going to do.

When Kaleb didn’t appear apologetic, the Quelthar shook him again. “Where’s your mother anyway, boy?”

“Dead.” He didn’t mean to say it, but he did. He stared at the lady’s shoes, refusing to show them the tears that had sprung into his eyes as the image of her body popped into his head again.

“What of your father, then, or siblings?” The woman’s voice had lost its sharpness, but somehow it only made things worse.

“Gone and dead.”

There was an uncomfortable silence that Kaleb couldn’t bear. But he didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything.

The man walked him over to stool and Kaleb’s heart began to drum. Whenever his father had led him to a stool it meant he was going to be on his father’s lap while being whipped. But this time the man pushed him onto it instead of taking it. Kaleb couldn’t help staring as the man knelt before him.

“Son, what’s your name?”

“Kaleb, son of Lei.” He was stunned. He wasn’t getting a beating. But they always beat him when they caught him, with either a strap or switch, every time.

“Lei of Gordahn?” The man asked, looking surprised.

“I think so…yes, that’s the town we sold our stuff at.”

Everyone in the room moved, and began muttering.

“Lei’s dead, though,” Miss Dorla said, her tone sharp again.

Kaleb looked at the ground, and this time a tear escaped. A warm hand rubbed his head.

“You’re his second boy, aren’t you?”

He could only nod. The tears wouldn’t stop. After months and months of cold and hunger and fear, this was too much. He’d rather they whipped him and sent him off. The memories of his father and his love broke down all the walls he’d made in the woods, killing his first rabbits, gathering food to cook, being sick when it didn’t go right. He’d starved and stolen, broken promises to his father and mother and brother over and over again when he’d been so hungry and reached that first village. He’d begged, and instead of receiving any kindness, everything he’d owned, even his boots, had been taken from him. Everything he’d taught became hollow, their voices and memories no longer a comfort, only a constant haunting that brought that last night and morning to his mind over and over.

And now, when he thought he’d be hungry and beaten and broken again, this man placed his hand on Kaleb’s head like his father had done every single day. It was too much.

When Kaleb began to sob, Dorla pulled him into her arms and held him as he cried. She told the Quelthar, Aldurin, that he was not to harm the boy, and instead gave him the bread he’d taken, and few other things besides. After he ate a few bites, Aldurin put his hand on his head again and said softly, “I knew your father, Kaleb. And I’m not letting his son starve or steal again. Tonight, you’re staying with me.”

That man was Aldurin, Aldarn’s father, the current leader of the rebellion.