WenRant 1

Title: The Start of the Journey to the Heart of All Realms

Author: SilverInk

Writing: short scene/ excerpt of an unwritten story

Word Count: 2139

Note: If this were an actual full-blown story then this note wouldn't be here. Chronologically though, this scene would take place after three characters did battle with dark demonic figure known as a Shadow. The six characters are now at a mansion where they are given a mission.

First things first. Don't volunteer for missions with random strangers. Especially if one of them has a crazy Shadow stalking them. Not to mention the other dweebs are either idiots or pompous psychos. I'm serious. We were six kids attempting to embark on the most complicated mission I’d ever heard of.

—-

“I have no choice now, confined as I am to my home, but to ask you six to help me,” the rich man on the floating “wheel”chair said gravely. “My wife is missing, gone off to find a place few have ever returned from…the Heart of All Realms.”

“Do we have any clues, Mr. Jackson?” asked a boy with jagged ears and tanned brown skin.

“My son should be able to help you,” replied the man. A skinny boy with fair hair and a shy expression stepped up next to him. “I also have given Miss Violet Kyson here”—he pointed to the purple haired girl that looked like she had no idea what they were saying— “a bag of portals. They are all I have to help you, unfortunately.” Mr. Jackson then fell into a bout of coughing and quit the room, leaving the six alone.

Quiet fell over the hall. One boy put his feet on the table and his hands in his pocket. His expression was bitter but not hostile. Cody Jackson’s son stood nervously next to the boy who had spoken and who now spoke again: “Well…”

The pretty girl with red curls and a white skirt looking up, taking a cookie and breaking it into crumbles over her plate. Next to her, the purple-haired girl lifted an invisible teacup and drank. A winged girl with a black halo and black dress sat two seats away from purple-hair, staring stonily at the others.

“Erm.” Everyone whirled and turned to Mr. Jackson’s son except for the stony-faced girl, who simply turned her head slowly, like a statue. The boy faltered.

A few minutes of awkward silence later, jagged-ears said, probably over-enthusiastically, “Well, I’m Jing Long, last of the Tideborn, as far as I know. Sorry about the Shadow earlier.”

“That was your fault?” red curls asked, picking up another cookie.

“Erm, yea. I’m not quite sure what I did to anger him.” It was jagged-ear’s turn to look nervous. Curls nodded before pulverizing the cookie. Poor cookie. Another pause later, Ears fidgeted and turned to Jack’s son’s son. “So, what’s your name?”

“Kenneth,” the boy said quietly, as if he was afraid of answering wrong. The boy with his feet on the table rolled his eyes.

“Kenneth Jackson. Not a bad name.” Jing chuckled, which sounded strange for an 11 year old. “Beats Gold Dragon.”

“Rizea actually.”

“Huh?”

“Kenneth Rizea. It’s my mother’s surname.”

Boots-on-the-table suppressed a laugh and Curls asked the question on everyone’s mind: “Why did you take your mother’s surname?”

“It’s actually my grandmother’s,” he explained. “My mother adopted it because she didn’t have a surname. Both my sister and I took the Rizea name…at my father’s insistence.” He shrugged. “I know it’s confusing. I don’t get it myself all the time. But yea. I’m Kenneth Rizea.”

There was a pause as everyone took this in before purple-hair said, “Confusing, family of yours is.” She proceeded to introduce herself. “Me is Violet, of Kyson.” She turned to feet-on-the-table.

He made a face before replying. “Wisconsin.”

“Of Wisconsin?” Curls asked innocently. He gave her a funny look. “You mentioned you came from Earth.”

He shrugged. “Surname Tynan. You?”

“Lewis. Maple-Ann Lewis. I hail from Cieonna Halls though,” she said the last part with a smirk.

A silence again.

“You are all fools,” the last person suddenly said. Everyone faced her, but unlike little Kenneth, she did not falter under their gaze. “You toss such names around as if they were common.” She turned her hard gaze on the amicable Jing: “Gold Dragon is a name of promise if not yet known. It was a well-chosen name, yet you waste your life in foolishness, anger a Shadow and endanger your kind. You know you are the last of your species yet you have not more capacity for seriousness?”

She turned to Violet without stopping a beat: “Kyson! She may be some distant relative of yours, but the blood of Kerra Dusk, Lady of Darkness runs strong in your blood. You embody one of the few phantasmic people that walk this world with neither curse nor confine and yet you cannot even begin to understand the legends that surround your family.”

She bore down on the youngest of the group: “You are young, but are a cretin nonetheless for not knowing your own name. Your father chose Rizea for your sister and you because it holds power, more so than the name Jackson. Aurora Rizea is one of the Nine Houses, Master of the Carpet Eveline, and the legendary Traveler of the genesis times.

“And you—“ She whirled on Maple, who sat calmly, a half-crumpled cookie in her hands. “Reon Cieonna is another of the Nine Houses, Master of the Scarf Eveline, Storm-Keeper, Ghost-Ruler—do these titles mean nothing to you? You forsake your name and by extension your birth and power. You have no idea of the power kept by the Halls of Cieonna yet you would cast it aside for some unknown “Lewis”?” She sat in an indignant huff.

“Fools all. I should call myself one for associating myself with you.”

She stopped there, and sat with her eyes piercing into the “cretins”. Her harangue had left Kenneth in tears, Jing in guilty silence, and Violet in stunned confusion. Only Maple seemed unaffected, the half cookie still in her delicate fingers.

Maple set the cookie down untouched and re-pinned a curl smoothly before saying, “And whom might you be, so wise in the ways of our families and our names?”

“I am known only as The Lady Archangel,” came the stern reply. “I am the Servant on the Nine Houses themselves, and a force not to be reckoned with.”

Maple-Ann Lewis of Cieonna Halls evidently ignored that last part. She took a bite of the cookie thoughtfully and set it down again with a pleasant smile. “Good cookies,” she said briefly to Kenneth. “Better than the kind my sister bakes.”

To the force that had named herself The Lady Archangel: “Yes, my sister. Esthien Cieonna, who carries the burden of the Curse of Cieonna. The Curse, and the powers that come with it.” She took another bite of cookie and continued evenly, “Reon herself named me Lewis. I do not aspire for more than I am entitled to. I do not aspire my sister’s position as I am certain she should not aspire to mine. My name is very much appropriate to my person.” She paused again to finish the cookie, perhaps mostly for effect, and finished, “And whatever sources you relied are clearly incomplete.”

The Lady Archangel didn’t miss a beat: “Notwithstanding you have left the Halls though, Miss Lewis. Is the calling of one of the Lost of Cieonna Halls too difficult for you? Why else would you linger so far away from the Halls and dawdle time snacking on—on trinkets!” she waved her hands expressly at the pile of cookie crumbs and crumbles that had gathered on Maple’s plate. “You are—a halfwit!”

Evidently Maple had no answer for this, as she simply took another cookie and nibbled away nonchalantly. The forgotten boy with his boots on his empty plate abruptly moved, shrugging his hands from his pockets and crossing them over his chest.

“What about me? You don’t seem to have a problem with me.”

“Tynan is an obscure name,” the Lady dismissed. “You are an inconsequential speck in comparison to the history that your companions keep.”

“Am I?” He suppressed a sneer.

“Your name is unknown. I suggest you disengage yourself from this motley group before your name is tainted as well."

“Right. I don’t know my name.” He paused, and this time the sneer was unhidden. “But I know my relations.”

The Lady stared down at him with narrowed eyes. “As you should, you—“

“I was abducted when I was 4,” he said flatly. “And before then I lived in the streets. I never met my family.”

“Then how—“

“You may know them too.” He let that hang there for a moment before continuing. “Erin Jenevive. Know her name?”

He was met with silence.

“Didn’t think so. What about Nem Suis?”

“Suis,” Maple-Ann muttered.

“Veraline?” A pause. “Does Evangeline ring a bell?”

Maple snapped her head up, staring. Wen smiled. “Evangeline is my twin sister. I’m told we don’t look alike.”

“You don’t,” Maple said curtly, selecting another cookie from the few left.

“She has witch blood and I…another.” He withheld the information but Jing, the only other person besides Maple that had seen Wen fight earlier, supplied the information:

“A…warrior of the energy blade. What’s the word—“

Wen twisted his mouth and blinked. For a kid, the boy had caught on extraordinarily fast.

“A Leth,” the Lady breathed, half in scorn, half in disbelief.

The Leth shrugged. “Of course, no one besides this, what did you call her—this halfwit, has caught on yet what I mean. This must mean you, my good lady, are less than half-wit. Shall we say,” he paused, pretending to think, “A dimwit?”

Maple laughed aloud and Violet’s expression was caught halfway between a smile of amusement, a frown of disapproval and a twist of confusion. The younger two didn’t understand the battle of wits until the last word, when even they caught on that the older boy had called the Lady a dimwit.

“You withhold another name,” the Lady said, eyes narrowed but otherwise unfazed by the insult. “Say it.”

Wen shook his head with a superior smile. “You should know this, all-wise one.”

“Say it.”

Maple finished another cookie, leaving only three more on the plate for the others, none of who had touched one yet. She wiped her fingers on a napkin delicately. “Evenette Suis,” she said evenly. “That is the name you are missing.”

“Surely that one you recognize?” Wen asked innocently.

Everyone recognized the name. Evenette Suis, the witch-that-had-gone-insane. Evenette, who had been gifted with the rare ability of dualcasting elements. Evenette, who held more power than entire armies in a single pointy fingernail. Evenette, who was rumored to be the Destroyer—who else could wreak havoc so easily without conscience?

“Your name is a tainted one,” The Lady Archangel said finally. “Yet you flaunt it. Evenette’s curse may yet be your own.”

“Evenette’s curse is her gift which is my twin’s.”

For a while no one said anything. Wen Tynan put his feet down and snagged a cookie from the plate. He bit, found it to his liking and consumed the remainder of it quickly. He tossed another to Jing, stood and patted his hands off on his pants and pulled a gadget out of a pocket as if checking the time. “Well, glad that’s settled. Now, if we have a clue where we’re going, I have a ship outside that might be handy. ”

Maple stood and waved a hand over her plate of crumbs, clearing it immediately. Jing, who was already standing turned to Kenneth, who picked the bag on the ground next to him and nodded. Violet looked up. “Me may…join you on quest?”

Maple smiled magnanimously and put a comforting arm on the purple-haired phantom’s shoulder. “Of course,” she murmured. “You are welcome.”

The five nodded and headed outside, leaving the girl in the long dress and black halo with the final cookie.

The Lady Archangel sat with her hands folded before her, eyes staring through the innocent cookie. “Their mission may yet be successful,” she murmured barely audible. She stood and looked after the five-some and back at her scythe leaning against the wall. She swept the scythe into one hand and flicked the cookie onto the blade in a single, practiced move. With precise movement she brought the blade towards her and snatched the cookie up with her free hand. She ate a little chunk, cocked her head in tasting and tucked the remainder away to one of the many cross-deminsional vaults created with a swipe of her scythe. Then she smoothed out her dress and walked through the wall to join the other fools.

—

Okay, fine, they turned out different than I’d guessed. But they were difficult too, and sometimes they reminded me of my old assassin crew. I just thought of it as another mission. It didn’t matter who assigned it.

Artist's note: Hi :) This is Silver Ink, hopefully reporting back after a summer hiatus. Yep!

So...I already know this is going to be a really really long note so I'll try to divide it up:

About the post/ story: So...yea...:D Wen's life took an unexpected turn, hehe. There are two other Wen-stories I already have written and will be posting... so... yea. As with any other story that vaguely mentions Wen Tynan, this is dedicated to TATAbox. Hopefully she's not disappointed that I posted something other than what I said I would....but it fit better to post this first, I think. :)

About the hiatus and life: Hehehe...Sorry about the unexplained unmentioned hiatus. I was away from my computer (omigosh -.-) for most of the summer and I had summer school so....that's my excuse? hehe! College is starting as well, so I don't know exactly how much I'll be writing yet, but I'll try to keep with the good old 500 words/ week :)

About...another blog. You might not have noticed, but this post is being posted from a different gmail account; aurasinewindrose@gmail.com (cookies if you remember where Aurasine Windrose comes from). Don't worry; it's just a new alias. In conjunction, The River Windrose is now up, though not yet running. It's going to be only my stuff :P but it's not completely the same. I'll still be posting random stories and scenes here on DiW <3. TRW will be a little different. I'll keep an update on how that goes (expect slowly :P ) :)

Also, I realized that the subscribe button only works with gmail only and only to the blogger feed and that thus, no one was getting any notifications about posts! That's been altered to a subscribe by e-mail gadget now, so hopefully it'll be a little more useful. It's at the bottom of the right hand bar, right under the horridly outdated Links section. Tell me how it works! :)

Please comment! Thanks in advance!

Anyways...that's all for this week! Glad to be back!

~SilverInk

Eyes: Brown (Part II)

Title: Eyes: Brown (Part II)
Author: SilverInk
Writing: Short Story Excerpt
Word Count: 2513
This is part two of "Eyes: Green". It begins exactly where part one leaves off. Narrator Violet Kyson has just opened the pedestal-and-orb statue in the middle of a pool in the hall they are in. 

For a moment all I could see was whirling water. I shielded my eyes with my arms and saw Utah shield Gillian and himself on the other side. Something shot out of the ring and flailed, but I couldn't see through the torrents of water flying around. When they settled, I turned around again and saw stretched out around the ring, a basilik.

Instantly  I ducked my eyes just in time to avoid meeting its eyes and saw it flick its tongue out at me; I couldn't tell if it was trying to speak to me or was pondering the best way to eat me. Still, he was not very large or long. I whirled my fans out, spinning them open loudly to catch him attention so that the other two might have a chance of getting to safer ground. 

"Don't look at its eyes, don't look at its eyes," Utah was muttering as he pushed Gillian back towards the lantern. The path was still not completely visible, but neither was it shielded anymore, so I could vaguely make out the ends of the platform. Seeing as I was scarily close to the ledge, I backed up. 

"Quick, anything immune to basilisk evil eye curse?" Utah said, working his way around, head down looking at the path and careful not to look even at the reflection of the deathly eyes. 

"Pixies!" Gillian said, half screeching with fear.

"Anything else?"

"PIxies! And um, some faeries, I think. Dragons! Some birds of prey and-and" she as stuttering helplessly, clutching the lantern cluelessly and staring back at the walls. She watched the basilisk's shadow lash out before we did and screamed in alert. 

As my brother leapt up to avoid the tail crashing down, I ducked and skid a few paces from the face that jutted past me. I closed my eyes to avoid seeing its eyes. "What else?" Utah yelled, stabbing blindly. I backed up again before whirling and launching my fans at the beast's tail, cutting and hacking, my mind focused on a single green scale to keep myself from freaking out. 

"Um-um! Pixies, faeries, dragons..."

She screamed as it lashed out towards us and a moment later I felt my feet leave the ground as basilisk launched me into the air with a swing of his tail. I heard Utah yell and Gillian screech again, her echos scaring me more than my own plight.

"Trampoline!" I called, pushing my hand out before where I determined I would land. Nothing seemed to happen, but instead of hitting the tile floor I bounced on a soft bouncy material that tossed me lightly into the air. 

"Trampoline?" Utah asked as I clambered off the invisible trampoline. "That's the best thing you could think of?" 

"Where's the trampoline?" Gillian asked, all over me the moment I was on solid ground again. I pointed and Gillian stretched her trembling fingers out and enveloped the invisible object in a field of dark energy. "I-I'll try--"

"He went underwater," my brother replied, walking over to us.

"Is he--"

"No."

I picked a fan up from where I had dropped it mid-flight and noticed the pink metal-cloth material was torn. Snapping it shut I replaced it to it's usual location and twirled my good weapon around in my right hand as I walked towards the pool. I peered into its depths, confused. "But he couldn't have...just left...." I muttered, kneeling and sheathing the other fan. From the depths I saw a stir of movement and instantly shut my eyes; eyes still closed I heard the roaring of water and loud, cold breathing. 

No one spoke. Not a sound was made. Finally, I peeked, saw yellow, and shut my eyes again. Then slowly, tentatively, I opened my eyes again. 

Before me lay the basilisk, it's yellow and red eyes open wide and peering at me. For a moment I thought it was dead, or I was dead, for I should not have been able to look into the great snake's eyes. When nothing happened though, and I determined I was very much alive, I stared into the giant yellow eye, trying to see through it and figure out, perversely enough, why I was not dead. Then I saw it. 

Reflected in the eye was myself, only twisted. My violet hair was morphed red, wild, cut short and curly and my skin was pale as stone, with no color but trickles of blood on the edge of my lips. In my hand I held a dagger--my dagger--only the three small amethysts on the blade were tiny rubies and the blade itself was jagged and chipped, with bit-marks visible on the hilt. My clothing was scarce, scarlet-colored and with long laces that flowed back in a nonexistent wind. As I stared at myself, the reflection smiled; my mouth turned up, showing sharp teeth stained with crimson. This image lasted longest, and then others flickered before me: I saw myself in my phantom-form, chewing the organs out of victims and gorging on blood and flesh with carcasses strewn around me.  I eradicated entire worlds with invisible comets the inhabitants never saw coming. And there was no fire. Everything had been snuffed out by a universal iceland, so that I was all-mighty wherever I went. I saw the faces of people that had ridiculed me and called me crazy flash by, all slain, all dead. 

I radiated power. 

The basilisk blinked it's large eye, lazily or confusedly and I blinked as well. My vision was blurred by green ends, but I saw nothing different. The snake was still there, I was still there, and my evil reflection was still there. 

"Phantoms?" came a soft voice, laced with fear and fright, with a tinge of confused realization. "…What do you see?"

I blinked again and everything became monotone and washed away in a blur of shades of gray. To the outsider my irises had just turned brown, but to me the world had altered. Gone was the gigantic hall with the pool and gone was the great lizard. I saw a small, dusty room, with heavy curtains over the only window. There were overturned boxes and papers and tools everywhere layered with dust. The only furniture was a broken chain lying discarded on its back, and a small round table in the center, covered by a dark tablecloth. On this tablecloth I saw a small white piece, somewhat of half of a yin-yang shape, with red streaks running over it like blood vessels. Confused, I stared at the colored object in the monotone world. Finally, I blinked again, and as gray color again encompassed my iris, I saw back into the huge looming eye of the basilisk, and heard the dripping of water in the hall again. 

“Are you ok?”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t seem to be able to control my voice or my body, only stare into that horrid orb and watch the evil me laugh as it destroyed. 

Within me, some part felt like screaming, but another, cooler side, held it back, and I remained silent. Shaking, but in one piece.

Finally the basilisk must have tired of staring at me and it backed away, thick eyelids closing and opening loudly as it turned away from me and to the other two. Still I was unable to move. I could hear the pattering of feet behind me and screams before a battle of sword and fang ensued. Some part of me wondered what was going on—the part that had wanted to scream before—but the other half knew—just knew that there was a battle going on behind me. 

“Violet Kyson!” 

I whirled at the sound and suddenly my life snapped back into place. A dull headache pounded in the back of my head and my eyes hurt as if I had been staring at a digital screen for too long, but I felt my body melt back into my control and my limbs move again. The serpent was advancing on Utah now and he was fighting blindly, spinning on instinct and using sounds to tell where his adversary was. 

"Violet! Answer me!" Gillian was before me now, shaking me frantically. Her eyes, normally blue-gray, looked more panicked than mine, as if she and not me had seen the basilisk's eyes. "Violet, what's happening?"

"I-I-" I stuttered, unable to speak coherently. Thoughts reeled in my head, centrifuging and picking up feelings in a hurricane within my mind. It was not unusual, since this was what I felt in any icy environment in my phantom form: the rush of everyone's thoughts and memories and knowledge stirred up in a great flurry that I would have to sift through to find what I needed."It's.."

She seemed to not even be there: I seemed to see through her to the battle, and I --perhaps it was because I had just stared death in the eye and lived-- gaped at the creature of the pool's eyes, as if I were trying to find the pupil and shoot it out. Then suddenly I saw it: it's eyes were a strange trio of colors: bright red around the pupil, and deep blue around the rim, with a band of flaring yellow between them that varied in thickness. And staring into it, I recalled seeing it close up and now noticed tiny purple vessels marking light paths over the eyeball. And in the center, where a hole for the pupil should have been, was instead an impenetrable black sphere that glowed faintly whenever the serpent hissed. "I don't know," I whispered. And there it was: three tiny words etched in white on the orb in the center of each eye. 

"I don't know," I said again, more forcefully. Gillian backed away from me in shock as I unsheathed my fans from their fastenings on my forearms. They had mended themselves since and were glittering subtly with newness when I snapped them open with a deafening crack and closing them quietly. The moment the creature looked in my direction I shot them at his eyes, aiming for the small black spheres. As they bolted through the air in slow-motion, I felt a burning desire to holler some final word or phrase at it, but couldn't think of anything and watched in cold silence as the pink projectiles shattered their targets. 

The strange basilisk screeched, less in pain, and surprisingly more in elation. 

Freedom! I heard, as if spelled out in the air before his jaw. It turned towards my brother with a menacing hiss, but the swordsman had ducked underneath its scaly body and slashed upwards, channeling light-energy down the blade. The snake was smacked sideways before its opponent stabbed it between the scales. There was a hiss of air and the basilisk fizzed into the air, vanishing in a trail of smoke that slunk towards the pool of water, made a ring around the floating orb on top before diving into the depths of the water, back into the ring it had come out of. 

We took a few tentative steps towards the glowing ring but suddenly the stone orb fell from where it had been suspended the whole time, sealing off the underwater pipe and cracking on the top. Everyone was silent. Utah caught his breath as he paced next to Gillian, who dropped the lantern in shock and relief. I walked forward and stepped next to the cracked stone globe and simply stared at it, careful not to touch.

"Well," Utah finally said, coming up behind me. I heard him sheath his sword and wring the water from his drenched shirt. "That was pointless. We didn't even find Sapphire."

I touched the edge of the fracture and the stone opening widened into a small arch. The inside seemed empty, but for some reason I blinked and altered my eye color so they were in their light-brown form. 

I saw in monotone, but it was sufficient: there was no furniture in the round room except for a chair and a table, though there were boxes all around the room, with papers lying in neat stacks over them. As in the vision I saw from the snake, there was a small curved chip on the table, like half of a yin-yang sign and with red streaks running over it. The chair was no longer broken, sitting upright behind the table. And sitting on the chair was the person Gillian, Utah, and I had gone searching for: Her hair reached a ways down her back, and was untied and slightly curled at the ends. She wore a plain, white, polo shirt with a folded white skirt and stockings. Around her waist was a thin red belt--this red I saw as light gray--with matching shoes. 

She stood, and dropped the tablecloth she had wrapped around her like a blanket. Beside me, GIllian and Utah gasped in surprise; I blinked and my vision returned to normal as I stepped forward. "Scarlet Lyne," I greeted with a small grin, feeling entirely more devious than I had ever before. Next to me, Utah was quick to frown. 

"Aren't you Sapphire? Sapphire Lilliane?"

"An alias," I smirked and Scarlet nodded embarrasedly. 

"Why-why are you here?"

"We came looking for you!" Gillian shrieked, collapsing on the bridge. "You're...ok."

"Yes." She made to step out but I stopped her with an upheld hand. 

"Take it," I said, pointing to the piece on the table. She glanced back at it before turning to me, shocked. "Take it," I repeated. "You can't escape from it," I said quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder in comfort. I didn’t know half of what I was saying, but I knew that she couldn’t leave it here. If my ghost-vision had told me anything, it was that the

“It’s going to embed itself into me again,” Scarlet said fearfully.

I thought for a moment and twirled my finger around, creating a strand of invisible twine. “Just pick it up,”I said and she capitulated, taking it carefully but hatefully in two fingers. I lowered the twine to the piece, scrutinizing it for a small hole to string the twine through, and to our surprise the tip of the piece moved, curling upwards to form a loop. It was cooperating. Quickly, I made the magical piece that had been for the last few years been buried within Scarlet’s body into a necklace and hung it on her neck. It wavered lightly, contently, and Scarlet looked up at me, a real smile on her face for one.

Utah and Gillian led the way back outside, and I followed behind with Scarlet. “So you,” my brother called when we had crawled through the tunnel and was back at the dead-end area. “Running away from paradise to isolate yourself with a death-snake. Original,” he commented with a grin. “So. What’s next?”

Artist's Note: Another rough draft thus far, concluding the little short story of "Eyes." Comments and criticism still appreciated though; help me improve it! Mostly...is everything clear?

I would also like to take this moment to say that Lewis and I have created a FictionPress account for DiW, accessible from the "links" bar. Once we get to posting, we will only be posting completed stories, though--and not all of them at that--, so commenting here is still appreciated. (Brownies for everyone that has already!) And anyways, I'll tell you if we're posting something up there, edited or unedited. Meanwhile; any suggestions for posts?

Thanks for reading! Please comment! :3

~SilverInk

Eyes: Green (Part I)

Title: Eyes: Green (Part I)
Author: SilverInk
Writing: Short Story Excerpt
Word Count: 2396

I have gray eyes. Green eyes. Brown eyes. Gray sees the surface world, green sees the secrets underneath this world. And brown? Brown sees past this world, into another reality.

Brushing a dust-web aside, I peered down the next tunnel. Again all I saw was darkness. "This looks like the only way forward," I said, turning around in the small dead-end hallway. "Gillian?"

My brother's girlfriend appeared next to me quietly and lifted her hands before her. She pulled the darkness from the tunnel, and a very dim, sourceless light emitted throughout. It was long, dry, and lined with stone and brick, but I could hear water tricking faintly in the distance. My brother still stared at the dead end,  raising the lantern to search for inscriptions on the wall. Finding none, he turned to the right wall, and finally to us, standing against the left wall. "Nothing," he replied and peered down the tunnel I'd found. "Guess we're going this way then. I'll go first again. Gillian, you next."

We nodded and I looked at the walls in the dead end again. I was certain there was something here, even with the tunnel. "Violet?" Gillian asked, already crawling through the path. "Are you coming?"

"One moment. Go on. I'll be right there," I replied, stepping in front of the other two walls. I closed my eyes and concentrated for a moment before opening them again. To the onlooker, it would seem I had just changed my eye color from it's usual dark gray to   green. But that was not all I had changed.  The dead-end hall was still a dead-end chamber, but it was a faint monotone. And the mark-less brick walls were glowing with inscriptions on them. "Utah? There's some writing here you might want to see."

There was a grumble and a plentiful amount of grumbling from him before Gillian came out again, stepping to the ground. She handed me a pad of paper and a pen and I copied the glyphs on the wall down, making sure to get every mark right before handing it to him. I blinked again, feeling my eyes strain, and instantly they returned to gray and my headache eased. 

Utah handed Gillian the lamp and she held it over the pad while he thought, moving his finger around as if he was drawing the glyphs. "To the adventurer awaits a challenge. To the pathfinder awaits a road." he said, translating the first two lines of text. "Through the pipe to victory ahead.  Find the victim that was stowed."" he finished, lowering the pad. He took the lantern back and gave Gillian back the pad. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I thought about the message for a while and finally said, "Well, Gillian's a pathfinder." She shrugged; she did enjoy exploring, but did not see herself exactly as one of the skilled pathfinders. "I suppose you're the adventurer then," I continued to my brother. "You're the one that wanted to come down here anyways." He gave me a shrug as well. 

"Well that was pointless," he finally said, looking at the walls. 

"We did get a caveat though," Gillian said softly, preparing to crawl back through the tunnel again. "And warnings are always helpful. "

"It doesn't exactly tell us anything new," he muttered, following her. I looked around again and crawled after him. 

It wasn't hard crawling though the "pipe"; I didn't know what Utah was grumbling about. It got a little uncomfortable when we neared the end, for there were puddles of water every few paces, but that was at most an annoyance. 

We reached the end and found ourselves in a wide open room with a large circular pool in the center. A massive orb-statue on a pedestal in the center of the pool, and water poured out of of small holes in the pedestal's base, supplying the green pool. From two more little holes water seeped into the pedestal. Each hole was secured so that no one could use the hole as a way to crack the statue. I stepped forward towards it, following Gillian and Utah. They stopped where the sea-green water lapped on the black tile floor and stared around them. 

"Violet, what do you see?" Gillian asked quietly. 

The chamber was huge, black and green, and smelled strange. It was damp, and empty but for the statue. Light was emitted from a ring on the top of the pedestal, which threw long shadows on our figures. The walls were smooth stone, and even when I switched to my green-eyed vision I could see nothing on them. The corners of my vision glowed with green light, but that was usual and I ignored it, scanning the room. I looked at everything, searching for a discrepancy between visions. Aside from vertical black stripes down the orb- part of the statue and amorphous red streaks in the water, I discovered nothing. I shook my head, reverting my vision to usual.

Gillian was looking at the pad again and muttered the poem quietly: "To the adventurer awaits a challenge." 

My brother set the lantern down and unsheathed his sword, stepping gingerly into the water and walking towards the statue.

"To the pathfinder awaits a road." Gillian began walking around the pool, scrutinizing the smooth surface of the statue, undecorated but for a few rings. She looked down every so often, reading the the lines of the poem. Her voice echoed in the room a little, creating an unsettling effect.

"Through the pipe to victory ahead."

I peered back the way we had come and saw nothing changed. Turning back to the chamber we were in I switched my vision again to green and peered closely at the pedestal. I peered closer at the water and saw the brick road that Utah had been walking on; the path stretched from where I was to the pedestal and formed a small ring around the base. Off the road I could see glimmers of brick every so often and gaps in other, though I couldn't tell if that was a defect of my vision or an honest gap of path there.

"Find the victim that was stowed." 

Utah had reached the pedestal now and was walking around it, sticking close to the base and glaring at it. The water reached his ankles, but he was wearing tall boots and didn't notice it at all. I took a few steps on the path and once I was sure where it was, returned my vision to normal to avoid draining too much energy.

"Nothing," he finally said, returning to the main path. 

It was a wide road but he still stepped aside. "Completely smooth." 

"Be careful," I warned. "I think there may be a gap of path just beyond the pedestal base."

He nodded, sloshing water as he made his way back to the lantern. He suddenly slipped and flailed for balance, using his legs to keep him afloat. Gillian's shriek echoed loudly around the room and it looked like she was about to chase after him until I caught his hand. With his free hand he tossed his sword onto the path, where it lay, barely visible under the water. "Don't run through the water, he warned Gillian when she stepped into it. "Go around. Go to where I started." She did as he said and reached me quickly. Together we hefted him out of the water.

Dripping wet, he picked up his sword and tried to dry it by wiping his clothes only to see that his clothes were more drenched. "There're holes in the pool," he confirmed and I nodded, understanding the gaps now. He looked at me expectantly and I clarified: 

"It seemed there is a wide path here, leading from"--I pointed to where the lantern still sat--"there to here. There's a small gap of path beyond the path, and then the path resumes for another strip. Beyond that I am not sure where there is path. And then there is the tile floor.”

GIllian nodded, holding on to Utah worriedly. I walked closer to the pedestal and touched it smooth surface, walking around as my brother had. I ran my fingers lightly across it and switched my vision again “What are you?” I murmured quietly. Up close I saw small, a few light rings that passed around the pedestal; each of them glowed faintly, so faintly I would have missed it if I were not so close. “Why are you here?” 

I returned to the front of the pedestal and pressed my hand against it, staring at it as if it would suddenly say something. “Where is Saria Lithe?” I muttered quietly. Then suddenly, next to my hand a single word gleamed into existence. Each letter was perfectly made mark of calligraphy and the word emitted a faint glow in my vision. 

Dead.

I lifted my hand from the statue in shock and the word vanished immediately, fading into the rock. Hurriedly, I reverted my vision and pressed my hand against the rock again. “Where is Saria Lithe?” I repeated, clearly.

Dead. 

The word reappeared, etched in the stone, and faded slowly away until I took my hand from it. 

“Who’s Saria Lithe?”

“Sapphire’s mother,” I replied quickly. “Sapphire said that she was looking into her. Come over here.” 

“How is it her mother’s surname is Lithe, her father’s is Lyne and her’s is Lilliane?” Utah wondered aloud, crossing over to me. I ignored the comment and pressed my palm against the stone again. “Where is Saria Lithe?”

Dead! 

It looked like the pedestal was annoyed by my asking the same question over and over and I retracted my hand once I was sure Gillian and Utah had seen the carving. 

“Looks like we’re finally getting somewhere,” my brother said. He stepped forward and pushed his hand against the cold stone. “Where is Sapphire Lilliane?”

For a moment there was no response and finally the carving said:

Nonexistent.

“Nonexistent?” Gillian asked, turning to me suspiciously. Utah was about to drop his hand when the word faded and another line of text came up. 

Alias.

This too faded and Utah removed his hand and turned towards us. “Violet,” he said firmly. “What else did she tell you?”

“Why are you running?”

She hung her head. She had started growing her hair out and hadn’t cut it for almost a year; it pooled by her shoulders, but more importantly covered her face. Especially the eyes.

Kyson manor was on the outskirts of Aldenzeve, Gillian’s, Utah’s and my hometown. My brother and I were just within the range of the shield that separated us from the humans, but far enough to avoid the hub-bub of the city, as Gillian had to deal with on a daily basis because he uncle owned an inn. Sapphire Lilliane had come to Aldenzeve praying shelter, and when the city itself was hesitant, my parents opened up Kyson manor for her. And over a few months, she had become my friend, of sorts. 

Then came that group, led by the boy, Syne Darrett. There had been a great clash and destruction when they had come, although it was well known that they were not the cause. And then Sapphire had vanished. 

“I can trust you right?”

“Of course.” I tensed, expecting a revelation of great importance.

She was quiet for a moment before pulling her hair back and saying, “I’m running from a boy. I love him—at least, I think I used to love him—but I can’t be near him.”

“Why? Does he…cause you pain?”

“Not me. But the rest of the world. I’ve separated myself so I can pursue Red Shadow on my own. No one here knows the Nekaitian dictator as well as I did, and I’m sure I can bring him down.”

“What do you mean the rest of the world?”

“It’s very complicated, Violet. But I realized that the world was bigger than the two of us—that our little curse was bigger than just the two of us.”

“I’m lost.”

“Not yet,” she murmured quietly before saying more clearly, “Violet, all I know is ever since I met that boy, something has been growing. By distancing us I hope I have stopped that creature’s growth, but I need to destroy that thing before it destroys us.”

“How?”

She shook her head and her hair fell over her eyes again. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “She—she said she was running. From Syne, I suppose, but I don’t know why.”

“Could she be the victim that was stowed?” Gillian asked, staring at the pad of paper.

“She could, couldn’t she?” Utah asked, glancing at it. “What’s our mission? Our mission was to find her. Sapphire Lilliane. ‘Through the pipe to victory ahead.’ So we’re going to succeed, the message is telling us. But…how?”

I shut my eyes and leaned against the pedestal, my head swimming from memories and words and the riddle on the wall. I pressed the back of my hand to my forehead and my other hand against the stone for support. “I don’t know,” I repeated.

Suddenly the path underneath me moved and the narrow path joined the outer ring. The main path retreated, shaking the ground until the lantern lost balance and fell over; it would have fallen into the water if it weren’t for the rectangular frame around the light. Gillian leapt away from the path and Utah caught her as they balanced on the narrow strip of path. Once it merged with the outer ring they stepped onto it quickly, concerned about any other attacks. The pedestal of the statue lowered but the orb remained where it was, floating in the air. It made no motion, even as the pedestal sank into the pool, leaving nothing but the glowing ring above the surface. All was silent.

“Violet…what did you do!” my brother exclaimed, half-angry, half exhilarated, and half just confused. He brandished his sword around him, holding on to Gillian with one arm. I reached into my sleeves and touched the twin pink fans I had secured there, glancing around me worriedly.

From the ring came a splash as something sprung from its depths.

Artist's Note: HI PEople! Super late update, but at least there is one, yeah? 

This is party one of a short story that I'm writing based on the first prompt in Writing Magic by Gail Carson Levine. 

Please show this site some love and comment! :D All opinions appreciated! Thank you!

~SilverInk

Introducing Love

Title: Introducing Love
Author: SilverInk
Writing: Short Story?
Word Count: 2866
Warning: Implication of mature themes, Minor profanity at end.

“Gil, Gil, I’m here, it’s ok,” He held the shaking girl in one arm, keeping the other one—the one with his rifle—away from Gil. “It’s ok. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Revolting. “Liam, you’ve got 10 minutes.” Liam’s pilot glanced again at the countdown on his watch. “Hurry up.”

Liam grimaced and let the girl go for a moment and leapt onto a crate so he was level with his pilot. “Wen, take Gil to safety, will you?”

“Why?”

“Please? For me?”

Wen sighed. “It’s against the rules to associate with civilians.”

“Please.”

“Nine minutes 45 seconds.”

“Please, Wen.” 

The pilot sighed and glanced at the girl, who was shivering, half from the cold air, half from quiet sobs. “Fine. Get back quickly though.”

 “Thanks,” Liam said, hopping off the crate and kissing Gil quickly on the cheek. “Go with Wen. I’ll be right back.” Without further ado, he slid down the visor on his head and disappeared outside the warehouse. 

“Liam!” the girl called, reaching out a moment late. There was no response. Gil shook, and another sob escaped her. 

“Well,” Wen said with a sour taste on his tongue, “Get in.” 

Without words, Gil pulled her jacket tight around her body and picked her way to the small passenger’s area behind Wen. “Thank you,” she added quietly as he shut the glass screen. 

Wen didn’t respond. He flicked a few switches and the aircraft started to hum. Within a few seconds they were cruising out of the warehouse and flying over the nearby port. “Eight minutes,” he muttered to Liam over a communication gadget. 

Gil was silent in the back, her eyes glued on the countdown. 

--- 

Love. Isn’t that word sickening? Why would anyone willingly give their entire self to another? 

I figured out why Gil was so attached to Liam. In his first mission to this place some years ago, Liam had some spare time after his mission. His pilot had been—put in the nicest way possible—occupied with certain members of the same species but opposite gender in a place where alcoholic beverages were commonly served. Liam had been rather new at the whole thing then, and still took his job seriously, following every petty rule, like that one concerning members of the same species but opposite gender in places where alcoholic beverages were commonly served. But there had been this one girl, who was just so very beautiful, that caught his eye.

I had the pleasure, of course, of listening to him describe her gorgeous curves, pleasant face, and bright eyes. He detailed the way her lustrous hair sashayed along her back, brushing the straps of her very revealing and torn dress in the most tempting way. And of course, he remembered vividly the way she lost her footing and nearly fell on him as he was walking out of the tavern: the thrill when her soft, delicate hand touched his, and the way her body crumpled against his, filling his nose with the scent of the kitchen. 

Gil wasn’t actually a prostitute. Her mother was though, and her uncle was the tavern’s keeper. She was a natural beauty, and didn’t need artificial maintenance to maintain a more-than-pretty appearance. Her uncle didn’t clad her in much clothing as she worked as a waitress, partly because he didn’t care, and partly because he wanted customers to be seduced and keep coming. 

Liam didn’t pay very high; according to his tale, she had taken one look at his “irresistible” muscles and pushed him out of the door and led him into a dark alley. He said he’d been confused when she removed her apron and started unbuttoning her dress. “When I realized what she wanted, I tried to stop her, but”—here he would cuss, depicting her nude body with profane adjectives—“and I caved into her charm. She talked me into love, and I kept volunteering for missions to come back and see her.”

--- 

Wen landed the aircraft in an open field, by a small hut where Gil said her friend Violet lived. The girl wanted to visit her friend, but the pilot refused, shielding the craft so it blended in with the forest behind them.

“Six thirty,” he said to the assassin in town. 

“I’m working on it, sheesh,” came an exasperated reply. ”How’s Gil?”

“She’ll be better off if you came back alive, I reckon,” Wen replied sarcastically, glancing back at Gil. She was shivering again, and silent tears were pouring down her cheeks. Blinking to clear the tears, she continued a transfixed stare on the countdown.

Profanity sputtered through the connection, followed by a sweet, “Hang in there,” before the connection ended completely. Silence engulfed the small jet, the only sound an occasional sniffle from the back. 

“Aw shut it,” Wen finally said, whirling around at her. “There are always other boys. You probably had the time of your life while he was gone, seducing other people with those pretty eyes of yours.”

Gil sniffed again, and wiped the tears away with her sleeve. “S-seducing?”

“He said you dragged him into an alley near your uncle’s tavern and seduced him.”

“Me?” Incredulity and outraged brimmed her eyes—all tears had been drowned. Wen mentally rolled his eyes. At least his precious plane wouldn’t be inundated by salt water now. “He ruined my life!”

“Your fault for caving into hormones,” he retorted, turning back to the front. He watched Violet’s hut for action, bored. A little girl skipped out, only to be called back in by a motherly voice. Next a boy a bit older than his teenage years came out, fetched water from the well, and then returned inside. 

“Him.”

Wen glanced back at his passenger apathetically. 

“That guy that just walked out of the house. I loved him, and he me. My uncle said that if he couldn’t make me a good prostitute in a few years, he’d let me marry that guy.” She stopped briefly, but seemed desperate to get her story out. 

“Then Liam came. He followed his pilot in, and the latter gave his orders quickly, already familiar with the place, and provided a large wad of money. Liam stood by their door, saying he wasn’t interested. 

“I was sent out to serve a few drinks, but I quickly retreated to the back when I saw his eyes tailing me. As I passed him, he grabbed my skirt and pulled me up to him, scrutinizing my face. As soon as he let go, I ran off. I was afraid. It was only about a day until the proposed deadline, and I didn’t want to have it ruined then. I heard their discussion though, as Liam offered my uncle large sums for something I didn’t care to know about. 

“Finally, my uncle fetched me from the back. From the way he was pocketing the cash, it seemed my life had already ended. My mom cheered, looking up from washing plates. ‘You will see, Gillian. Someone as pretty as you was destined for this line of work. You will make good money for us. Trust me. You will like. Some customers are very creative.’ My uncle led me to his best room, one with a nice bed and couch, and a few bottles of drink. ‘Do well,’ he warned me, ‘and I might let you go after all.’ Without doubt he was thinking of a hefty tip.”

Wen was glaring at her by now, half disbelieving, half horrified. He noticed the little pigtailed girl—closer up she was closer to his twelve than a little seven year old—coming towards them, but didn’t worry. The ship was cloaked after all. He didn’t say anything to Gil, thinking over the new information.

“Finished,” Liam’s voice cackled though the microphone and the glowing 1:14 faded. “Told you it was easy. I’m stopping by the inn to give Gil's uncle his payment. See you soon!” 

--- 

Liam stood in the corner of the room, flipping though the drinks in the room. His jacket, vest, and belt were lying on the couch, discarded. He’d stolen a hefty sum earlier, and was happy with how he was going to spend it. The girl came into the room, changed into a short red skirt. 

“She’s all yours,” the tavern-keeper told him, and locked the doors. 

She knelt by his feet suddenly, wildly, and was begging with him the moment the door closed. “Please, please, please sir. I’m engaged to be married, my uncle is just looking for the money. Please spare me.”

“What’s your name?” Liam said, selecting a bottle and uncorking it. He took a swing and sat her on the bed.

“Gillian Summers. I’m a waitress, not a prostitute. I don’t belong in this,” she pleaded, indicating both room and dress. 

“Virgin?” he asked, ignoring her and taking another swig.

She was terrified and didn’t answer. “Please don’t,” she whispered. 

Liam took another long drink and looked at her evilly. “It’s ok. I am too. My pilot tells me it’s fun though.”

“You’d be ruining my life, sir. I have a future—a loving husband and a proper family. I-I can read and write. I can cook and sew. Please?”

He drained the bottle and set it aside. “Your husband will never know, he said, pining her down by her shoulders. She didn’t scream, though her face was contorted with fear. 

“Your conscience though,” she stammered, desperate. “Would you rape an innocent girl?”

“Hell ya if she looked like you.”

He kissed her hard, biting her lower lip lightly to keep her from turning away. “Stop squirming he hissed, his hands roaming down her body, groping and touching as he wished. She struggled and fought to get away, but was no match for a person like Liam.

---

"Why do you continue to pretend you love him though?" Wen was asking, still scrutinizing the girl coming towards his jet. 

"Because...I have to pretend. Liam keeps my uncle loaded with money. If I didn't have him, Uncle would sell me as a prostitute for certain. He threatened it before. But then Liam came again and offered to pay to keep me away from other people."

"I still don't understand."

"Uncle is old now. He will have to retire to less work soon. He has no heirs and no family still living aside from my mother and me. My mother is sickly and cannot run a bar. I can see his plan--he could give me the bar and continue to live wealthily off my work and Liam's donations. I care not to run the place, but if it is my only way free of my mother's rules and his threats, then it is a chance I am willing to take."

"It wont help you get back together with your friend there," Wen pointed out, gesturing gruffly at the teenage boy now chasing after his sister. "Your uncle might even make you marry Liam."

"I care not. Marriage is a superficial matter if no one cares too much for it. He will continue his missions, and I will continue my life."

"Still not helping your love life."

"I...will figure out a way to reconnect," Gil said, suddenly quiet. 

The silence was interrupted when Liam's voice came crackling though. "Finished. I've got your location. I'm coming."

His pilot shrugged and stared out the window again. The little girl--Violet-- was suddenly a lot closer to his jet than Wen would have liked, and her brother was close behind. Wen was tempted to turn his jet's laser cannon on them--one shot and the two of them would be vaporized without a trace--but abruptly stuck a new thought and decided something else. 

He stood up and pressed a button to contact Liam. "Negative," he instructed. "Civilians nearby.  I can't take off without revealing our location. Stay back until I signal otherwise."

Liam could be heard cursing and demanding why Wen was opposed to just blasting the people into smithereens but when he was met by cold silence, finally relented, "Agreed."

Wen checked to ensure Liam could not hear his speech before taking off his seat belt, opening a hatch and jumping onto the grass. He wasn't concerned about getting hurt, even if these two happened to prove hostile; he had multiple daggers concealed on his body and a handgun in his pocket. 

"Where are you going?" his passenger said, also standing. 

"Miss Summers, I believe that where I am going is none of your business but also in your best interest to follow me. Now get off."

He wandered through the jet's shield and stood a few yards away from the boy and his sister. Gil was still lingering behind the shield.

"Whoa! Didn't see you there, little sir. If you don't mind my asking, what're you doing all the way out here?"

"What's your name?" Wen asked neutrally, staring at the boy.

"Uh...Utah Kyson. And this is my lil' sis, Violet. You, sir?"

"Wisconsin Tynan, delighted to meet you." Wen said, still monotonously, staring back at Violet, who was peering at him curiously. She had an innocent face and was offering him a flower she'd picked up. "No thank you."

He didn't know how he was do what he wanted to, and Violet gave him a nasty surprise when she asked, "Is that your ship? And why's Gil with you?"

The boy who had called himself Utah was probably also shocked by this news because his eyes flickered over Wen's shoulder suspiciously. Violet sighed and pulled a ribbon out her pocket in a dramatic way. "I can see past your shield," she explained. "Utah can't though." 

Wen shook his head to clear the disbelief and concern. "I'm going to be blunt, Mr. Kyson...."

---

Gil knew Violet could probably see past the ship's shield but still didn't bother telling Wen that her friend was coming. She chatted with him, glad to be able to tell someone about her plight. This boy...he was what, 12? But already he was flying a war machine as if it was the most familiar thing to him in the world. Gil admired him for that, but only slightly. She knew where he came from--the same place as that Liam.  They came from a place where kids were taught to kill. 

Liam Osborne Wreke. That creature that made her life a wreak. Well, she reasoned with herself,  not really. He had complicated matters, yes. But she was more mad at her uncle and her mother than she was at Liam. Still, she would not trust him with her schemes. She cared about his existence only for his money. 

But there was something odd about this boy. This ambivalent kid pilot that acted--and probably though--more maturely than she considered herself. 

She followed Wen out and stood at the edge of the jet's shield, staring at Utah with loss. She knew he could not see her, and she was glad. How would she explain?

---

Wen returned to his ship, feeling mighty pleased with himself and even more pleased with how matters had gone. He waved at his new friends on the ground; Gillian and Utah, who had been talking quietly on the way back to Utah's hut stopped and waved and Violet smiled in his direction before skipping after them, flowers bouncing merrily and dress blowing back with the power of wind his ascending aircraft was billowing.

Wen smiled, certain he had done some actual good that day. He closed his fist around a small smooth stone, answered a message sent to his watch, and continued to pick up Liam.

---

"Where's Gil?" Liam asked, swinging onto the ship as Wen hovered temporarily on the outskirts where Liam had been waiting. 

"With a friend," the pilot assured, closing the hatch as Liam strapped himself in. He executed a double roll and backflip to turn them in the direction of their headquarters and grinned evilly to himself. 

"What? I wanted to see her before we left, you bastard! Bring me to her! And turn the damn plane around. It's giving me a headache."

Wen spun the aircraft around, twirling until Liam screamed "Stop it!" Wen laughed darkly and returned to the normal position, accelerating as he went. "Better," Liam scowled. "Where're we going? I thought I told you to go back, damnit."

"No can do," came the reply. The boy in front typed in a few short commands with one hand into the hologram keyboard and a screen showed up in front of Liam, with the message Wen had gotten just a few moments before. In a few seemingly innocent words, it gave the assassins their next assignment's destination.

Liam spewed profanity and Wen adjusted Liam's screen so it showed a dorky cartoon. "Looks like something you might like," he said, smirking at Liam's outrage. 

Wen guided his ship contentedly and glanced at the stone with a color-changing flower engraved on it in it. He pocketed it and felt a small but genuine smile creep onto his face before yanking the wheel sharply left.

Artist's note: HI! Sorry for the late update, but it's about 5 times as long as an expected DiW post, if that's any compensation ;)

It's kind of a continuation of The Pilot, which I wrote in May... hope you like it! (And hope I kept them in character, somewhat?)

In other news, school has resumed! And also, I will need to be writing college application essays soon as well (and no, I'm not posting them online. XP) Therefore, updates might be sporadic at best, I think :( Perhaps I will have a few drawings though I can post instead? Lewis and I agreed to be non-originalists in our interpretation of the Drawn in Words Challenge >:) (AP Gov't allusion ;) ) November SHOULD theoretically contain many updates due to NaNoWriMo, but I am unsure if I will be able to post, or if I will be able to even write that much >.<

Regardless, my best to you all. Thanks for reading and please comment! :D

~SilverInk