Just to Clear Something Up

Ok, as some of you may know, I've written a book. Three, actually. And the first is soon to be published. It's a fantasy/young adult/history type thingie (not really sure what genre that is...). Anyway! You may have been reading The Sea Dodecagon of Love lately. Just to clear it up, I DO NOT WRITE THAT BADLY NORMALLY. The Dodecagon story is a fanfiction; each episode is written in, like, a day and it's written hurriedly and poorly. It's just for fun, and I don't take it seriously. Please do not EVER make the mistake of thinking that's how I write, because it's not. No no no no! Get that thought out of your head right now!! Just to prove it to you (in case you were thinking of not believing me), here's a short sample from my first book, Young Falcon, which is already copyrighted and filed in the Libary of Congress, so don't even THINK about stealing it. I know none of you would, but you can't say I didn't warn you :) So here ya go:

AWAKENING

I grimaced as light streamed into my eyes. My eyelids fluttered back over my eyes, protecting them from the painful rush of light. I felt light-headed, and my forehead throbbed. The warmth of the sun splashed across my cheeks, making me hot.

The warmth suddenly vanished as I sensed something moving in front of the sun’s path. Hoping the light would not still pain my eyes, I opened them a crack. Light streamed around the figure of a person kneeling in front of me, and I was cast in shadow. Who is that? I thought, squinting to try to see better. The person’s outline was fuzzy and indistinct; I felt like I was seeing the outline from underwater. There was the even fainter outline of a second person behind the first. I grimaced as a wave of pain racked my body, shaking me to the core. Tremors followed a second later.

I winced as the person shifted, letting light hit one side of my face. I quickly closed my eyes as the bright warmth dazzled my eyes. Ohhh…that hurt. What’s happening to my eyes? I shifted, but I could not tell if I was lying on the floor, or on something, or even if I was right side up. My sense of direction and perception was completely muddled. I gasped as the person knelt down and touched my face gently, but I was more startled than afraid.

“Elysia.”

I moaned and shifted again, wishing the light would dim. It hurt my eyes even when they were closed.

“Elysia.”

I moaned again and felt tremors course down my body, followed by a searing blast of pain that engulfed me like an angry outburst of crimson fire. It felt like red-hot lead was being poured through my veins. My muscles froze with the paralysing wave. I gritted my teeth as another surge of pain pulsed in my blood, determined not to scream. My heart fluttered like a dying bird.

Intense colours pulsed behind my eyes as the agony redoubled, and I let loose a hoarse scream that echoed strangely in my ears, like I was in a large space that was devoid of life and pressed down around me like a blanket.

I feebly opened my eyes again and looked into my own eyes, the same eyes I had looked into the night I had watched the line of human soldiers pass by, the night I had met Veryan. I was dimly aware of a gentle touch against my mind as I slipped into unconsciousness.

 

¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬

“I don’t understand. Say it again,” I said. My eyes searched Yaron’s in question. He sat beside me in my cell, arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the stone wall. His face bespoke weariness and concern, but there was something in his eyes that made me uneasy, something about the way he looked at me. The omnipresent sparkle was somehow softer, and gentler, than it usually was.

“He refused to give me his real name; I don’t know why. He said it would be safer for all of us if only you knew. I can only guess there’s something he doesn’t want us to know or find out about his history or who he is.”

“And you think he’s the reason I’ve been having all these strange nightmares and unexplainable visions?” I said, fingering a round stone.

Since I had woken up from my last bout of agony, Yaron had been explaining to me what he had discovered about the human and what role he played in my foreign emotions and dreams. I was extremely sceptical of the idea that he had just…connected to my mind, and that his emotions and thoughts and memories were overriding mine to the point where I could not tell which were his and which were mine. Concerning the pain, the only explanation Yaron could come up with was that he had been wounded or something had happened to him that was causing him all the agony that was also plaguing me.

“I do,” Yaron sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know how, or why, but I do think he’s the source of your pain.”

I stared at my bare feet in silence. This is so strange. I wonder what Malitha would say, and what her opinion about this whole thing would be. I shivered at the memory of my twin and closed my eyes, trying to eradicate the harsh feelings I had had towards her. I sighed. I miss her.

She’s your sister, isn’t she?

My eyes flew open, and I sat upright with a start. Yaron watched me with a studied expression. “What is it?” he breathed.

I exhaled shakily and replied, Yes. Who are you?

You may call me Lliam, but do not tell Yaron, nor anyone else. My connection is with you and only you.

How do you know Yaron? I asked, bristling slightly. And who are you? My voice held barely contained venom after all I had been through during the night.

I’ve met Yaron before, he answered wearily. As for my name, I believe I told you call me Lliam, no?

Why this secrecy? Why are you trying to hide who you are? I asked, feeling guarded and frustrated, yet curious and sympathetic at the same time. I did not know what had happened to Lliam, but his voice held the same weariness and caution that Yaron’s did when I first met him. And the name…I had heard the name Lliam somewhere before…

It’s not by my choice, believe me, Lliam said, a hint of bitterness coming into his voice. If I could, I’d break out of this prison and ride as far away as I could and never look back.

I felt a twinge of pity and emphasised it in my next words: So you too are imprisoned?

Yes. I am. Lliam was silent for a moment, giving me a chance to mull over his words.

I blinked as I considered his words. So…he hates his imprisonment as much as I do. I wonder where he is being held, and why. I raised my eyes to the ceiling. I wish I could help him. Then I asked, Where are you held, Lliam?

I was unprepared for the spiteful venom in his voice when he snapped, What’s it to you? Why would you care? You’ve never met me! You don’t know what I’ve done! If you did, then I think you would not be so eager to want to help me!

And with that, Lliam withdrew from my mind with a sharp pull. Remnants of his consciousness and emotions still lingered, but the entirety of his being was gone.

Bewildered, I looked over at Yaron. He offered me a confused half-grin and said, “He’s friendly.”

I exhaled and leaned back against the stone wall. “That’s what worries me.”

 

¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
“Yaron, how did you get in here?” I asked in a while, as it finally dawned on me that he should not be in my cell. Yaron was stretched out on his back, hand behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling.

“I walked through the bars,” he said.

I gave him a glare, knowing he was being sarcastic, though nothing in his voice revealed it. “Yaron.”

He looked over at me and grinned, then turned back to his original position and closed his eyes.

I rolled my eyes and glanced over at his cell door. The padlock was lying on the floor, badly dented, and the door hung ajar. My own door was in a similar condition. I raised an eyebrow. Here’s another display of his amazing strength, I thought half-sarcastically. His strength was extremely uncanny for a boy his age, as was his incredible skill with all things weapons-related. Ah well. It’s not in my interest to attempt to understand his complicated mind. I shrugged to myself. “So you punched the lock off?”

“Yes,” he replied, sounding uncommonly cheerful. He opened his eyes and grinned at me, the soft sparkle twinkling at me, and then closed his eyes again.

I half-nodded absently. “Amazing,” I muttered.

“Exactly,” he agreed.

I rolled my eyes again and said, “Why are you so happy? Did Gornhelm finally disintegrate after looking at his reflection?”

To my surprise, Yaron actually laughed out loud. “I wish! No, I don’t know why I’m ‘so happy’. I just am.” He glanced at me, amusement etched in his handsome features. “Do you not want me to be so happy?”

I smiled despite myself. I have to admit, the cheerful Yaron is much more interesting to be around than the usual angry one. I sat down beside him on one of the crumbling stone blocks. His eyes were closed, but a grin was still upon his face. I laughed, “You look like an idiot, grinning like that.”

Yaron chuckled. “Oh well. Call me whatever you like, it makes no difference to me.” A little while later his face and body relaxed, and I could tell he had fallen asleep.

*

Yaron awoke and jerked up with an audible gasp. Sweat coated his body, and the darkness pressed around him on every side, threatening to overwhelm his senses. Every muscle in his body ached and burned, as if he had been climbing rocky terrain for two days.

He wiped the dripping sweat from his forehead, and shifted to a more comfortable position, gritting his teeth to prevent a gasp as his leg muscles suddenly cramped. Yaron sat down slowly on a slab of broken rock, wanting to cry out in pain as his muscles burned.

He let out a heavy sigh as he leaned against the wall, running his fingers through his damp hair. Yaron closed his eyes reluctantly, hoping his dream would not reappear before his eyes. He was not sure how he would know if it was the dream he had just had, however, because he could not remember anything about the dream, except the feeling of utter panic that had consumed him, and the fear, the fright that this dream would become a reality.

Though Yaron had had many such dreams since that fateful night his parents had been slaughtered and he had been abducted from his home, this one was worse than usual. Elysia had been in this one, too.

He shuddered. She had been lying on what looked like a floor of ice, her face and hands very, very pale, and tinged with blue, and she had been trembling. Her breath left her lips in a great, white cloud, but it was also very shallow, and her eyes were closed. He knew she was dying.

Yaron wrapped his arms around his knees and dropped his head to rest upon them. He sat silent for what seemed like hours, terrified by the images he had seen.