City of IF

[Tikanni Corazon]

Hello all! :) This is the prologue, and a teaser, of the SG I will be writing once SparkleSteps is completed. So there won't be any further chapters until then. But, I'm still interested in what everyone thinks of it. After all, if everyone thinks that it's a bit crap, then I likely won't bother going any further. *giggles* And, of course, there will be plenty of time for any improvement, some of which I may make myself over time. :)

This one is going to be rather alot darker than SS, but despite some of the content, for which I should probably just give a quick one of these... WARNING! BLOOD, GUTS, AND GREAT EVIL LIE BEYOND! ...it will still remain a fantasy. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it, and I look forward to continuing, hopefully in a couple of months, if I can keep up the SS chapters. ;) Oh, and the title will likely be changed by that time too. Just couldn't think of anything else at this moment in time. Thanks for reading!


Prologue


The sun was setting, over the Swamp of Despair, though the time of day was barely discernable to those who resided inside it's borders. Overshadowed by the gnarled, ancient trees, hardly any light got through, making it an environment too harsh for most beings to live in.

Hiding, in an alcove, in one of the Marsh Walkers, the creature looked skyward. He waited for the night to come, so that he could read the heavens, and see what they foretold of the coming of the One. The huge, iridecent orbs, that were his eyes, narrowed, as he thought about the One, the being who would change the world, as he knew it, as everyone knew it. The being who would shift the balance, taking power away from those who worshiped darkness, and giving a sense of hope and justice to the lower beings, the ones whos very existance was to serve them.


The creature shuddered, as he remembered that he was no longer one of them. Forced to reside here, in these lands of misery and unquenchable drear and doom, his every waking thought was upon his plans to win back the favour of the lords and ladies of the imperial court. And, for a long time now, his thoughts had been upon the One. Many years before, he himself had made the prediction of the birth of a child, who, when he was grown, would not only give the rulership of the lands to the slaves, but this being would also mark the final downfall of those who had enslaved them. His prediction had earned him a place at the table of the Rulers of Darkness, at the side of his Lord, Tynan, and, in turn, placed him in the soft light of glory. He had been envied and hated, though no one every showed it. All had flattered him, simpering around him, pretending the had affection and respect for him. But each and every one of them wished to see him fall from Tynan's favour.


The kingdom had been searched, and many children had been captured and brought forward, for him to decide whether or not they were the chosen one. But it never was. The child had gone undiscovered, and, to his knowledge, it remained so.


He clenched the knuckes, of one long-fingered hand, with the other, the bones making a cracking noise beneath the steely grip. 'Yes,' he thought to himself, 'he was strong, despite his size. How else would he have been able to...' Another spasmodic shudder ran through his body, as the memory surfaced, and he mentally chastised himself, for his weakness, for his crime, against the master who had taken him under his wing.

"Kara," he whispered, into the near-silent swamp. Despite his regret at his actions that night, he couldn't help but smile, as he remembered how he'd felt that night. 'Ah, her warm skin...' he though to himself, '...the taste of her.' He could almost taste her blood in his mouth, feel the torn flesh in his bony palms... see her dead eyes, empty of soul, still looking up at him. His hands moved up to his face, and he dug the ragged nails into the skin, raking them down his cheeks, leaving bloody tracks in their wake, as he relived the event...

It was one of the most exhilerating moments of his life. His own blood pumped excitedly in his veins, as he gussled down hers, with zeal, and utter abandonment.

Yet the moment was now tinged with regret. 'Would I do it again, if I had the time over?' he thought to himself, as he had many times over his decade of solitude. And he knew the answer would be yes, he would do it again. He'd been completely unable to resist the temptation of the little girls flesh.


When it was all over, he'd lay back against the pillows, next to the little girl's body, and revelled in the feeling of her blood, running down his chin and chest. Savouring the metallic flavour on his lips, as he poked out a long black tongue, in order to taste her once more. Then suddenly, he was thrown back into the reality of the moment, and he realised what he'd done. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Tynan would be devestated, when he found out...and angry. The image of himself being hewn in two, by his Lord's great sword, flashed into the forefront of his mind, and he knew he would have to get rid of the evidence, before the child's nursemaid came to check on her. He wrapped the remains in the bloodied bedsheets, and threw them out of the window, seeing them land, safely hidden, amongst the rose bushes that surrounded the castle. Then he turned his attention to searching the room, for the tiniest speck of blood or flesh, and cleaned them up thoroughly, using a scrubbing brush from the kitchen, before remaking the bed with fresh sheets. He rumpled the bedclothes slightly, and created an indent in the pillow, to create the illusion that the child had been sleeping there.

Even now, he praised himself for those little attentions to detail. If it hadn't been for that low-life stablemaster, he would most certainly have got away with it. He ground his teeth together, as he thought about that man, the man who had raised the alarm, and in turn, was responsible for his plan failing and of him having to leave the castle.


After he finished cleaning Kara's bedroom, he skulked through the castle passageways, slowly sneaking his way outside, into the grounds. Once there, he checked that the coast was clear, then made for the spot amongst the rose bushes, where the body had landed. The bushes were thick with thorns, vines, and the famous, deeply-scented, black roses, and, small and skinny as he was, he had difficulty getting through them, to reach his quarry. The great thorns, each as long as a mans thumb, were wicked sharp, and, try as he might to avoid them, they pierced his flesh many times, injecting their non-poisonous, but pain inducing venom, into him, causing him to cry and whimper in agony.


Suddenly, he heard someone call out to him.

"Hello, is anybody in there?" The stablemasters voice wasn't concerned, or even enquiring. He knew full well, that someone was amongst the rose bushes, and the question had been posed as a way of letting it be known that he was aware of their presence. Unable to think of an excuse as to why he should be there in the middle of the night, the creature had merely stayed quiet, hoping that the old goat would decide that it must have been a wild animal of some sort. But there was no such luck. After a moment of silence, he heard the stablemaster's voice roar out once more.

"INTRUDER! INTRUDER IN THE CASTLE GROUNDS!"

In the distance, he heard the pounding of many booted feet on the courtyard floor, and knew that he would have to think quickly. He decided that there was no alternative, but to try to bury the body here, amongst the roses, and then quickly make an escape, before the soldiers got to him. His large hands aided him well, in making the shallow grave, allowing him to have dug deep enough, within a mere few minutes. He'd placed the sheet, and it's gruesome contents inside the hole, and covered it up with the earth, and evened out the soil, so that they wouldn't suspect the anything was buried there. Then he began to make his getaway.


Heading westwards, away from the grave, and the incoming soldiers, he started to make the journey, back through the black-rose bushes. But, try as he might, he was unable to escape the dagger-like thorns, and, as before, he couldn't contain his yelps of pain. The cries drew the attention of the soldiers, and the sharp-eared stablemaster, and they fell upon him within seconds, using their swords to cut through the bushes, as though they were made of nothing more than spiderwebs. He was captured and chained, and taken before his Lord, who questioned him relentlessly for hours, as to what he'd been doing in the courtyard, at such an hour, and why he'd gone through the agonising process of traversing amongst the rose bushes.


His body blistered and sore, where he'd been pierced by the thorns, and mind blank of ideas, he merely replied that he was searching for something, and that he'd tried to flee because he was afraid that everyone would think he was up to no good. He knew the excuse was utterly feeble, and, sure enough, Tynan gave the order, that he was to be thrown into the dungeons, until further notice. As he was dragged away, he was aware that he'd fallen from his Lord's grace, and that, once it was discovered that the child was missing, they would put two and two together. They would know he'd had something to do with it, and the outcome would end in his demise. He decided that he would have to escape, in whatever way he could.


Trying the bars, at the window of his cell, he found that they were just placed too close together for him to squeeze out of. He searched around the room, testing the walls for loose brickwork, digging to see how deeply the foundations of the castle reached. His eyes kept returning to the window, and the bars, that were just that little bit too small for him to fit through. His thoughts had flittered through his head, as he wracked his brains for a way to escape. Every minute that passed, he became more and more desperate, and then, he suddenly decided that there was no other option. He would have to kill again. Even though he'd comitted the most despicable of crimes, because it had been done to a small child, he knew that the people of the court still considered him weak, and a coward, probably even more so now than before Kara's death. He'd always allowed them to think that way, as it was more convenient for him. If people are afraid of something, they try to remove it from their lives, and possible death had never sounded all that appealing to him. But this time, the situaltion called for desperate measures. When the guards came to collect him the next morning, to be questioned about Kara's disappearence by Lord Tynan, they discovered just how deadly he truly was.


He'd not hesitated in his escape for a moment longer, than it took to dispose of the two guards. Quick as a flash of lightning, he leapt at them, ripping out their throats, before they even knew what was happening, and within seconds, both were on the floor dying, in matching pools of blood. He snuck his way through the castle, into the courtyard, out of the large front gates, and away. He ran and ran, until his body ached and his lungs throbbed painfully. Finally, he could go no further, collapsed in exhaustion, and lost consiousness.


He awoke, many hours later, to the distant baying of dogs, and the thundering of men on horseback. The sky was beginning to darken, and he realised he must have slept for the entire day. He attempted to stand, but his limbs ached and burned, beneath his skin, and he sank back onto the ground, in a relieved heap. But the dogs grew nearer, their howls and barks becoming louder with every minute that passed. He finally found the strength to drag himself, into the shadow of a line of trees, which he later discovered to be the border of the Swamps of Despair, and he'd resided there ever since...


Few dared, or even cared to enter the swamps, so he'd remained safe from his persuers for all these years, though some of the other residents kept him on his toes. But, even they didn't bother him as much the overwhelming feeling, that gave the swamp it's name. The very air he breathed, seemed thick with drear and unhappy thoughts. He'd longed to leave for years, but never dared to, not without something to use as leverage, to prevent being killed on sight. Now, the time had come, when he could obtain such a thing. The coming of the One was upon them, the time when the slaves would gain themselves a leader, to go into battle against the beings of darkness, and it had been foretold that they would win.


The creature finally ventured, from his hiding place in the alcove of the Marsh Walker, which he found had shifted a few paces, without him even realising. Moving away from the strange, yet harmless tree, he wandered over to where he'd left his pack, and cloak. Throwing the latter around his shoulders, he moved towards the swamp border.

"The time has come, Delano," he whispered to himself, and he stepped outside the trees, and into the moonlight, leaving as he had entered, all those years ago. He studied the heavens a moment, reading the stars, and, as he did so, a deranged smile spread across his face. "Yes!" he hissed, "Truly, the time has come!" Then Delano, the prophet... the murderer... the evil one, began his search for the One.

[Ramol]

I'm brand new to the site and I have to say this was an awesome introduction to the quality of the writing here. Very nice. And very dark. Your descriptions are vivid, especially when describing the creature with the girl. Ahh, skin crawling :D

I really liked how the exposition of the One was broken up by this passage of the creature's past. This event that brings the interesting combination of pleasure and regret. It sets up the creature, what he's about, as he begins his quest for this One person.

I'd definitely like to read more of this in the coming months when you get around to it.

[Thunderbird]

Welcome to IF Ramol! Good time to join ;)

Tikka - I have a lot going on tonight so I'll get on this tomorrow since you're not moving forward with the story quite yet. I really do look forward to it and the first few para's were captivating. So I'll be back soon :)

[PopeAlessandrosXVIII]

Another excelent addition to your repitore Tikanni-chan! As ugly as you described him, he gave me happy chills.


The truly cruel and bloodthirsty nature of Delano makes me want to see him in action, not just recalling it. A nice touch with him hiding all that raw power for all tose years. Shows he's a cunning thinker, and fine bad guy.

Pokes, you have a comma issue. I want to go through and scrub out over half of them, many don't even make sense.......I'll just do one para

Quote: Hiding, in an alcove, in one of the Marsh Walkers, the creature looked skyward. He waited for the night to come, so that he could read the heavens, and see what they foretold of the coming of the One. The huge, iridecent orbs, that were his eyes, narrowed, as he thought about the One, the being who would change the world, as he knew it, as everyone knew it. The being who would shift the balance, taking power away from those who worshiped darkness, and giving a sense of hope and justice to the lower beings, the ones whos very existance was to serve them.


Now, you could take ot all those red ones and have much more coherent sentances, or even make many of them periods and seperate into more sentances. It really makes me cock my head at all those....useless punctuations.

Besides that, I have much love for concept and style! You do have your own unique flare for the explorative. *Grins*

Keep'em coming young lady!

[Thunderbird]

A truly excellent beginning, Tika!

I'm wondering, are you planning on having us take the role of the villain in this story? That could be quite interesting indeed.

I was a little confused by whether he was 'human' or not - got some indications of something more bestial but without explanation of his being accepted among civilization despite that. But then, I was left to wonder if if were just some of the artistic phrases used to refer to him that threw me into thinking he was something lizardlike.

But that's my only niggle. Otherwise, I felt this was a glimmering example of a great character introduction and opener. You paint a beutiful, yet terrific, picture of a deeply dark mind to which we still have yet to understand its motives in full. This leads some sense of mystery, in addition to the background of a prophecy to be fulfilled (one which sounds much like that of Moses or Sargon II of Sumeria) and our fascinating perspective from the antagonists side of the coin. I'll be watching for more ;)

[Tikanni Corazon]

Thanks Ramol, Pope and TB! I'm glad you liked it! Even though it's not going to continue for a little while yet, it's still useful to have the feedback. :)

@Ramol - I'm glad that you have found this to be a good introduction to IF. There will definitely be more, hopefully sooner rather than later, as I would like to get stuck into it myself. But, as I've found in the past, I don't do well with multiple SGs at once. So to get the best out of it, I will have to wait until I've finished SparkleSteps, which I've been doing for so long now, it deserves to be completed before moving on to another.

@Pope - Going overboard with the commas is a problem I've had before. I'll go over it sometime, and take out the unnecessary ones.

@TB - I was actually planning to make this SG from multiple points of view, one of which will be Delano. But there will also be the hero/heroine, and others like Delano, who don't want the One to change the world as they know it. So it may very well be mostly from the point of view of the villian, whoever he or she might be in the story. I did wonder if I might be taking on a little too much, having a multiple character perspective, but the idea intrigued me all the same, so I just decided to go for it. Who knows, it might actually make it easier to keep my muse alive and kicking, if I have the chapters coming from different points of view.;-)

As for 'what' Delano is, he is kinda half and half. He has humanoid features, blurred with those of a more animalistic nature. That's all I'm saying for the time being though. A description will have to come later though, when he's actually witnessed by another of the characters in the story.

~~~

I'm aiming (hopefully accurately) for chapter 1 to be up sometime in July/early August. I figure that gives me a good while to get SS wrapped up, without rushing it, and also plenty of time to get my other characters sorted out. So, here's hoping that my gruesome creation will return soon! Thanks for reading! :)

[Thunderbird]

Quote: As for 'what' Delano is, he is kinda half and half.
Then I retract any critique on the matter and would like to add that it was thus perfectly delivered. It gave us tantalizing clues this might be the case and left us curious to understand ths more. Perfect for the opener.

[PopeAlessandrosXVIII]

I'm really glad yer thinking ahead, and I just can't wait for this one to start!

[Emperor]

A great prologue and introduction to the new story, full of details and wonderful descriptions. Here are some that stuck out to me in particular.

Tikanni Corazon wrote: Forced to reside here, in these lands of misery and unquenchable drear and doom,


Tikanni Corazon wrote: at the side of his Lord, Tynan, and, in turn, placed him in the soft light of glory.

This line stuck out because of your use of soft light of glory. It little touches like this that elevate a description. To me it gives the reader a sense of the feeling attached to the honor of being at this persons side without having to spell it out in lengthy detail.

Tikanni Corazon wrote: the bones making a cracking noise beneath the steely grip.

Once again, nicely done.

Tikanni Corazon wrote: He could almost taste her blood in his mouth, feel the torn flesh in his bony palms... see her dead eyes, empty of soul, still looking up at him.

Tikanni Corazon wrote: He decided that there was no alternative, but to try to bury the body here, amongst the roses,

I don't know if it was intentional or not, but pointing out the fact that the body was buried in with the roses is a really nice touch. Yes, its a hasty decision by the character but as the reader it was sublime juxtaposition.

Tikanni Corazon wrote: "Yes!" he hissed, "Truly, the time has come!" Then Delano, the prophet... the murderer... the evil one, began his search for the One.

Indeed let the search begin!

Tikanni Corazon wrote: Overshadowed by the gnarled, ancient trees, hardly any light got through, making it an environment too harsh for most beings to live in.

Just a little critique if your are interested. Be careful of sentences like this one, you already point out that the environment is "overshadowed" there isn't a need to point out again that no light can get through. I know its a minor thing, but something to be aware of - not that I cannot say I am supremely guilty of it myself.

[Thunderbird]

Emperor wrote: Tikanni Corazon wrote: Overshadowed by the gnarled, ancient trees, hardly any light got through, making it an environment too harsh for most beings to live in.

Just a little critique if your are interested. Be careful of sentences like this one, you already point out that the environment is "overshadowed" there isn't a need to point out again that no light can get through. I know its a minor thing, but something to be aware of - not that I cannot say I am supremely guilty of it myself.
I do this too. And something D said the other day elsewhere 'round here made me realize why I'm compelled to do so - its about the pacing, the 'meter' of the sentence and how it fits with those around it in the flow. There's a subconscious niggling that states that something should be there for the sake of poetic deliverance. In particular, I see that clearly here. Perhaps the solution to solving the quandry, to eliminate and have a blocky sounding sentance vs leaving it in and having an unnecessary redundancy, would be to find another statement to inject between the commas that has the same rythmic feel but adds a new dimmension.

Wow... we really are getting advanced in critiques around this site ;)

Great job on this, once again, Tikky. E pointed out a lot of things I had subconsciuosly recognized were causes for excellent here and I appreciated him bringing them to the conscious recognition level for all of our benefits.

[Tikanni Corazon]

Thanks so much, guys!


@Emperor - Thanks for pointing out that last quote to me. It's really not something I would even think about, but you're so right, it doesn't need to be there at all. At some point, before this one gets started, I'll change it, and keep an eye out for such things in the future.


@TB - And I agree with what you stated as being the reasoning behind it. It is to get just that little bit more description in there, and yes, make it sound almost poetic when it's read. It really is something to keep an eye out for, though it probably won't be all that easy to do, as I would imagine it to be a thing that is very easily overlooked, even when aware of the possibility of it happening.


@Pope - I can't wait for it to start either! At the moment, I'm itching to get started. But I think I owe it to SparkleSteps to get it finished, so I'll have to learn to have a bit of patience. ;)


Thanks again! I hope I don't disappoint when I do eventually start! ;)

[Emperor]

just for my own curiosity sake tikki, was the rose garden thing intentional or happy coincidence.

[Tikanni Corazon]

It was intentional. :) It is actually something that may crop up again later in the story, and if it does, then burying her there has a purpose (to the story, not for Delano). But that remains to be seen. ;)

It was actually one of the first images that popped into my head when I got the idea for the story itself, the idea of this innocent little girl being buried amongst beauty, after being killed in such a brutal manner. Though I didn't know that it would, I'm glad it has such effect. :)

Thanks for the interest, Emperor!

[Tikanni Corazon]

Right, I've been itching badly to get started on this tale, and have, despite my promises to myself to dedicate myself wholly to SS, been constantly writing bit'n'bobs for the first chapter, and it will, within the next few days I think, be ready to be posted up.


Now, I figure that, considering I've been writing it anyway, and managing to keep up with SS well enough, I can post up the first chapter (which will be in three parts) over the course of the next couple of months, until I'm actually ready to dedicate myself to the story fully.


I'm just going to explain a little about how I'm planning to do this. I've been using the method I plan to use on this SG in SS at the moment. Each of the chapters in The One are going to be in 3 parts (unless I state otherwise). A DP will be given for each part (again, unless I state otherwise) and all three will be combined into the next chapter, rather than being used for each consecutive part.


These chapters are also likely to be longer than my in my previous SGs, if fact, each part of a chapter will likely be longer than the chapters in my previous SGs. This story is special to me, as it's one I've been working on for a couple of years now, and I really do want to make it the best it can be, and, reluctant as I was to put it up, I figure that this is the way to do that. I trust you guys to point out wrongs and praise rights, and I think I can really get the best out of it by writing it on IF, so I can get the perspective of others. No need to worry about the DPs being hampered by my needing to stick to a specific storyline. This tale has had more changes in that department than I can even remember, and the main part that I will be keeping in is the very end of the story, and even that is flexible. There are a few minor point I will be putting in, and I have the characters sorted and their roles in the story planned, but the paths they take will be up to you guys. I just hope I'm not taking too much on. ;)


As I mentioned before, this will be multi-character perspective, good and bad guys. There will be at least 5 characters, but likely 6-7. These will all be introduced in chapter 1 over the 3 parts (apart from Delano, who's dark little mind you've already had the pleasure of meeting ;))


Okay, so I think that's all. Chapter 1 Part 1 will hopefully *fingers crossed* be ready in a few days. Thanks for listening to my blather, and I hope you will all enjoy what's to come! :)

[Mattheus]

Looking forward to it very much :D

[Tikanni Corazon]

Okay, this is part one of the chapter, and part two will be following, though not any time soon, I would imagine. I'm going to be taking my time over the next month or so, while I finish SS. I'm introducing a few more characters here, both good and bad, and will introduce a few more over the next two parts.

It's...a really long chapter, but it is split into the different characters by this '~~~' so you could take a pause there it you want to. I hope you enjoy it all the same! Thanks for reading! :)


The One - Chapter 1


In her cottage, in the Daire forest, Veletta stirred the contents of the caudron, her gaze focused unblinkingly into it's depths, waiting... Suddenly, she threw up her arms, cursing as she did so.

"Gah! Damn, damn, and damn a third! No matter what I do, it needs more!"

She scanned the room, until she spotted the trembling, blue blob, squeezed into the gap, between the dresser and the cottage wall. She marched over, and dragged the quivering being from it's hiding place, watching as the seemingly solid mass, transformed into it's true form. Leathery wings appeared first, followed by a long, tufted-end tail, and a rounded face, complete with a set of large, pointed ears, and a bushy profusion of feathery hair. A pair of large, teal blue eyes darted to look nervously up at her, and she sneered in response.

"Hiding again are we, Neona?" Her voice was dangerously quiet, and the creature, Neona, began to shudder even more violently.

"N...n...no, mistress, I...I w...was just..."

"You were just HIDING!"

The witch screamed the last word, before throwing Neona across the room. The little creature crashed into the far wall, fell to the floor, and lay there, dazed. Veletta strode over to her, grabbed her by the hair, and placed her roughly into one of the high-backed arm-chairs. Tears ran down Neona's cheeks, at the pain she'd just experienced over a mere couple of minutes, though she dared not cry out, for fear of angering her mistress further. She looked up at Veletta with fearful eyes, waiting to find out what was required of her.

"Now, Neona, I have a little errand for you."

The witches voice had become as sweet as a summer starberry, though Neona knew that meant nothing. Whatever errand she was being sent on would have evil intentions behind it, they always did. The witch continued.

"I'm afraid I've just run out of...Selkie blood!"

She said the final two words with relish, knowing the discomfort it would cause her slave. Just as she expected, Neona let out a cry of distress.

"Mistress, please don't make me do that again! Please! I can't..."

"You can, and you will!" Veletta continued relentlessly, "You will go out of the forest, and down to the shore. You will find a little Selkie child, innocently playing with pebbles or something, and you will lead it here to me, with the promise of faerie dust, or moonbeams in a jar, or whatever it is that you trick them with. Then, I will string it up from the beams, slit it's throat, and drain out it's blood... while you watch, of course. Wouldn't want you to miss that now, would we?...Plus..." At this point, the witch wandered over to a beautifully polished, hand-carved wardrobe, and pulled out a lovely, fur-lined cloak. "I believe the pelt would come in use. This needs relining."

Neona began to sob, shaking her head.

"I can't..." she repeated, and jumped, as the witch slamed her hand down, on the side table, next to the chair.

"YES...YOU...CAN!" she screamed, back-handing Neona across the face. "I need that blood! A Selkie child, nor any other, is going to follow me, they don't trust me! But they will trust a good, honest, harmless little Moon-pixie, as we've discovered before, haven't we? And, you know what will happen anyway, don't you, if you refuse to do my bidding?"

Tears pouring down her cheeks, Neona nodded. The witch smirked nastily.

"You are here to protect those that you love, and if you don't do your job, I can easily find a potion that I might need Moon-pixie eyes for. Or Moon-pixie liver... it does make a wonderful addition to my Nightshade broth!"

"Okay, okay... I'll do it!"

The thought of her family strung up along that beam was too much for Neona to bear, even if it meant carrying out Veletta's evil bidding. At the Moon-pixie's words, Veletta broke into a smug smile.

"Good, I'm glad we sorted that out," she said, her voice turning sweet as honey once more. "Now, go prepare your things. You leave immediately."

She clapped her hands loudly, and Neona scampered off to her little den. For a moment she sat in one of the far corners, weeping quietly as she considered the choices that she'd made in life, and the evils she'd been forced to commit. Still hopelessly sniffing, she took up her little pack, and placed a jar of luna-sweets inside, along with a deep-sleep potion, just in case things didn't go quite to plan.


She emerged from the den, and saw Veletta standing once again by the caudron, staring intensely into the bubbling contents, with her beautiful emerald-green eyes. Being a Moon-Pixie, she was incapable of feeling anger, but the sight of the witch always filled her with a multitude of negative emotions. Sadness, knowing what the rest of her life would be spent doing... Fear of what Veletta would ask her to do, or do to her next...Shame, at doing the awful things she'd already consented to doing, in order to protect her loved ones.


Though she was unable to be angry with Veletta, she knew that the woman was evil, and that the world would be far better off without her in it. She had asked herself a hundred... a thousand times, 'If I had the chance, would I kill her?' and the answer was always yes. It wasn't an answer based on emotion, it was deciphered using logic, and knowing it would be for the best.


Watching her, as she added a pinch of powdered water-bush to the concoction, Neona wondered how someone so beautiful on the outside, could be so ugly on the inside. What had happened to her to make her so? Neona took in the long, golden locks, cascading in waves down to Veletta's knees, the flawless, porcelain skin, the full, rose-coloured lips, the shapely figure. Veletta was the vision of every man's dream brought to life, and yet she dwelled here, alone, in the middle of the Daire Forest, growing more and more powerful, and more twisted with every day that passed. Neona's Moon-pixie senses told her that Veletta had a tale to tell, of a bitter moment in her life that had changed everything. If she only knew what, there was the possibility, remote though it was, that she could try and help her change back.


She shouldered her pack, and was just about to sneak out of the door, when a near-hysterical cry from her mistress stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Ah! It's working, it's working! I can see... him? Her? Whatever, it doesn't matter! What matters is, now I can change what was foretold! I can destroy the One!" She threw her hands skyward, and let out a long, high-pitched cackle. Then she bent her head close to the cauldron, locking her eyes on the image before her. "Just look at you..." she whispered, seductively, almost affectionately. "I can only imagine what power lies within you... and it will all be mine."

She turned to Neona.

"Leave that Neona! It's not longer important. We have a journey to undertake, and we must prepare." She paced the room briskly, her forehead lined with intense thought. "Hmmm... such power won't be easy to break, though with any luck, the child will be ignorant of who and what he or she is. And as such, be unaware of the powers that lie within them... Still, it doesn't do to take needless risks..." A smile, poisonous and full of malice in it's intentions, slowly spread across her beautiful features. "On second thoughts, Neona, I will need you to go out. But not to collect a child. I will need a..."

"No mistress, please, not again! Please don't make me do that! It is against the laws of nature itself to commit such an act, I cannot..." Neona knew the exact nature of her mistress's thoughts, and they terrified her. "The gods...they will not be merciful...I cannot do it again!"

"You CAN, and you WILL!" The final word was spoken with such venom, that Neona cowered beneath it. Veletta continued on, her eyes afire with rage and greed. "You will take this..." She plucked an unmarked vial from a shelf, full of bottles and jars of potions. "...and you will travel to the realm of the Ni'Alina. You will seek one out, find a way to make them ingest the contents of that vial, and then, once they're under your control, you will bring them back here to me. And I can handle the rest. Have you got that?"

As much as the idea of committing such an act repulsed Neona beyond all reason, she nodded fearfully. Veletta smiled dangerously.

"Good..." she said, turning back to her cauldron. "Now go!...Oh, and Neona?"

Neona, who had turned towards the door to leave, looked back into her mistress's spiteful gaze. Veletta pointed to the beams above their heads.

"...If you fail me, you will return to find your family strung up from these very beams, being put through the most horrific pain imaginable." She walked a few paces towards Neona, slowly, her voice flowing hypnotically from her lips. "Just imagine, Neona, your mother, your father... baby sister Ria..."

As she quoted the last one, Veletta brushed a hand through the air before her, her fingers wavering with serpentine grace. An image of Neona's baby sister appeared in the air, strung up from the beams by her tiny feet, and she watched in horror, as Veletta took one long, sharp nail, and slit the image from pelvis to throat, causing the innerds of the make-believe Ria to spill forth. Neona let out a cry, and hid her face behind her hands. She heard Veletta let out an evil cackle.

"I think I'm made my point perfectly clear, but I will be watching you, Neona," she said, smugly, before returning to the cauldron once more. Neona, not wishing to witness further horrors, fled from the house, to begin her horrific mission.


~~~


The sun was setting overhead, sending a soft glow spreading across the palace grounds. Lord Tynan stood, so still he was almost statuesque, close to the walls of the castle and beneath the window of his beloved, and tragically lost daughter. He often ended his evening stroll there, pondering over the roses, that had grown so profusely since her disappearence thirteen years earlier. She had never been found, his darling Kara, and he felt heartsick, imagining the horrors that could have befallen her...could possibly still be befalling her. The same questions swam through his head every night, like errant fish, nibbling incessantly at his mind, and this one was no different.

'Where is she? Is she alright? Is she in pain? Or is she...' The final word always escaped his thoughts. He couldn't bear to even contemplate it, though he knew it was there all the same, haunting his dreams every night. The nightmarish idea as to whether his Kara was dead and gone forever.


Silent tears began to fall, leaving behind them gleaming trails of moisture. In a sudden movement, he lifted his palm to the sky, in order for the quickly dimming light to capture the object that nestled there, a single black rose. Even though it was so close to darkness, the remaining light still picked out the flower's prominent centre, which was a shade of deep scarlet. Before Kara had disappeared, the roses had always been pure, flawless black, untainted by any other colouration. After that night, every flower that grew had possessed this blood-red core, and it remained so even now in the present day.


He kept the flower held up to the fading glimmer of the setting sun, until it had dispersed completely, and the night surrounded him, with it's blanket of stars. He descended the rose, placing it instead under his nostrils, and taking a deep inhale of it's pungent, otherworldly fragrance. He glanced up at the window to her bedroom, remembering the last kiss goodnight he'd given her, while her golden head had nestled in the soft, down-filled pillows. A lighted candle stood upon the sill, it's flickering flame sending shadows dancing across the walls within. A nightly ritual of his wife, Myrna, in the tradition of her people. Myrna family were of the Plains people, who dwelled in the west, and the candle was, according to their beliefs, placed in the window to guide a lost spirit home.


Tynan sighed, and began to make his way back towards the palace entrance, with the intention of retreating to his study, to consume the remaining contents of a bottle of starberry brandy. His thoughts turned from his lost daughter, to his heartbroken wife. He remembered the day he'd first met her, whilst on a hunting outing with his father, along the western borders of the Daire forest, at the age of thirteen...

...His eyes squinted, as the scout indicated that the animals were up ahead, in the undergrowth. They had been tracking the wild boar all day, and finally, they were within their arrow-shot. There was movement in the undergrowth ahead, and Tynan notched an arrow into his bow, watching and waiting for the creature to come into view. The first part to appear were the tusks, protruding from the thick undergrowth like a pair of curved spears. Each as long as a mans arm, they seemed to take forever to fully emerge. Tynan's eye's widened at the sight of them, having never seen them upon a live hog, and he gulped down a riot of nerves that threatened to break his concentration.


The tusks were eventually followed by a glistening snout, dripping with thick moisture, sniffing it's way along the ground, seeking out sustanance. The head attached to the snout was huge and thickset, and covered in black, wiry-looking hair. A second set of shorter tusks extended from the animals jaw bone, and the beady, onyx eyes gleamed brightly, as the creature went about it's business. As more of the animal appeared, the more transfixed Tynan became. Fear and a hunger to impress his father, competed with awe and respect for the hogs magnificence. It was a creature of untameable wildness, a creature without fear of fighting his enemies.


A twig cracked, as one of the scouts mistepped, and instantly the hog was put on alert. It lifted it's head, and Tynan became aware of it's full size. The hog took a few more steps out of it's hidding place, it's eyes searching the surrounding woodland for the maker of the sound. Tynan gasped as the muscular legs and torso became visible. It was a creature of pure strength, both in body and being. The still searching eyes showed a spirit of defiance and rebellion, and Tynan knew that it wouldn't go down without a damn good fight.


A whooshing noise broke through the natural sounds of the forest, as Tynan's father let loose the first arrow. It missed the hog by a mere fingers-breadth, and thunked into a tree instead. The hog broke from it's cover fully, and charged in the direction of the shooter, followed, to Tynan's horror, by three others of similarly enormous size and stature. The beasts stampeded into the woods where the king and his men hid, their tusks held in a battle stance.


What happened next passed in a blur of blood, sweat and fear. Tynan began to run, away from the oncoming hogs, amidst the screams of the unfortunate one who were caught by the creatures tusks. There was a moment when he felt a burning pain down his left side, but it passed, and he continued on, escaping deep into the forest. He expected one to catch up to him with every moment that passed, and skewer his insides, but it never happened, and still he kept running.


Gradually, the screams died, and Tynan stopped in his tracks and looked back. Nothing and no one followed him, neither hog nor man. Upon looking around, he found himself near the border of the forest, but overlooking a part of the kingdom that he'd never seen before. Vast green plains lay before him, studded sparsely with small clumps of trees. Beasts, large and docile in appearence, grazed upon the grass, their shaggy heads bent, and their jaws in a constant state of movement, as they chewed their cud. There were areas, in the distance, where the grass grew longer, and it was spotted with tiny splashes of colour, which Tynan assumed to be wildflowers and beyond that...smoke! A large, curling tendril of it snaked towards the sky, though Tynan couldn't see where it's origins lay.


Tynan looked back once more, and took a few steps back into the forest. He called out to his father, and to their men. But no answer reached him. He returned to the edge of the plains, and made a decision. If he could get to where the smoke came from, he was likely to find people, and they might be able to help him. He just had to get to them.


He stood atop a rocky outcrop, and knew he would have to climb down, in order to get to the lush grassiness of the plains themselves. He took a step down, and nearly fell, when a crippling pain throbbed in his side. He looked down and saw an arrow sticking out of his abdomen, on the left side. He recalled the moment of pain when he was running, and decided he must have been hit with a stray one, shot by one of his own men. He supposed that the panic of the situation must have made him oblivious to the pain. Now that he'd calmed down, it was agony.


He decided his only real chance was to try follow the smoke anyway. He looked back down at the arrow, and considered pulling it out. But the amount of blood that already saturated his tunic frightened him, and was worried that if he removed it now, he might make it worse. He decided to leave it, and see if he was able to find any people to help him.


The climb down the outcrop was torturous. With every step he took, the arrow in his side shifted, sending burning pain through his body, and causing profuse amounts of blood to spurt from the wound. By the time he reached the bottom, his clothing was red with the soaked-up liquid, and he felt weak and dizzy. He managed to walk a mere few yards, before he collapsed with a cry of pain. His cheeks awash with tears, he called out once for his father, before giving in to unconsiousness, and the darkness beyond.


He came to some hours later, and instantly his gaze met that of a young woman, bent over him with a cold cloth, gently dabbing at his hot brow. She smiled down at him, her beautiful face lighting up as she did so.

"Good! You're awake. I was so afraid we were going to lose you for a moment there."

Tynan tried to sit up, but she pushed him gently back down.

"No, no, no...you mustn't try to get up. Your wound is still healing, and you need plently of rest." She place the cold compress at her side, and leaned over him to take a wooden bowl from a small table. "Would you like some water?" He met her question with a nod, and she held the bowl to his lips, allowing him to sip at the refreshing drink. He used the time to study her. She was older than he was, around sixteen years of age, with lightly tanned skin and long, curling locks, the colour of chestnuts. She had a softy curving figure, the sight of which brought a rush of lust to his body that was unfamiliar to him.


When he'd had enough, she placed the bowl back on the table, and looked down at him.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Tynan," he answered, simply, finding heaven in the smile that curved upon her lips. She brushed s stray hair from his brow.

"Well met, Tynan. I'm Myrna."


The weeks that followed, during Tynan's recovery, were the best of his life. Myrna was of the Plains People, daughter of the chief, and, as he got stronger, he was allowed out of his confines of rest, to watch them go about their daily lives. They showed him how to construct quickly made and sturdy arrows, in case he should find himself without any, and how to properly shoot. They taught him to show respect to his quarry, be it tiny, swift rabbit, or majestic stag, telling that they all played there part in lifes great plan. But the moments he spent alone with Myrna were his favourite times. Over the weeks, they grew closer and closer, and when it came time for him to leave, he could hardly bear to be parted from her.


Upon reaching home, Tynan discovered that his father and all the other men had been killed in the forest that day, and it had been assumed that he'd perished in the same way, though his body hadn't been found.

But despite the grief of losing his father, and the distance between them, he and Myrna kept in touch, and Tynan often visited the Plains People over the years. He proposed to Myrna when he was eighteen, while they lay upon the plains together, under a blanket of stars. She accepted, and the rest was history...


His thoughts returned to the present, and Tynan found himself in Kara's bedroom, looking out over his courtyard and kingdom beyond. The candle, that beacon to guide his little girl home, sat upon the sill in front of him. He found himself transfixed by the flickering flame for a moment, the mirage of oranges, golds and yellows having an almost hypnotic effect on him. At times, he swore he could see her image, dancing within the fire.


So hard was he concentrating on it, that he didn't notice her enter the room, stepping silently across the stone floor, and closing the door quietly behind her. Neither did he hear her approach. Only when she slipped her arms around his waist, and laid her head against his strong shoulder blades did he take heed of her presence.

"Tell me your thoughts, love," Myrna's soft voice broke through the silence of the empty room, and vibrated gently upon his back, where she held him to her.

"You know where my thoughts lie," he said, in a hollow voice. He felt her sigh against him.

"I know..." Her hands tightened their grip slightly, as she tensed at their twin thoughts. "...but why don't you tell me anyway?" She drew him around, so that he faced her. He looked down into her deep brown eyes, with a face devoid of emotion. "Look at you, my love." She laid a hand over his heart, and closed her eyes. "Emotions bubble incessantly within you, but you show none of them. Your features remain blank as a piece of unused parchment. Tell me...use anger, sadness, fear, passion...show me how you feel, please...Anything but this emptiness that has consumed you all these years."

Her eyes reflected the need behind her words, her own compulsion to share her feelings with him, and to hear his in return. Throughout the years since their daughter vanished, he'd never been willing to do so, not wishing to share his grief with her, nor have hers added to the already unbearable weight that pulled upon his heart constantly. He bowed and shook his head, pushing her away from him as he did so. He walked away from her, and made for the door.


"Why?" Her voice, louder now, stopped him. He turned back, and met her hurt gaze, brimming with soon to be shed tears. "This is something that needs to be done, Tynan! You need to put aside these imaginings of someday finding her, so that her spirit can pass over."

"Stop..." Tynan said, his voice dangerously calm.

She approached him, and held his face in her hands.

"No...no I can't do that, my love. You need to let go. You're keeping her here..."

"I said stop!" Tynan roared the last word, and pushed Myrna away from him.

"Please! Please Tyn..." Her voice was cut off, as his fist connected with her face in a vicious blow. She fell to the ground, and lay there, trembling, and holding her palm to her cheek, the tanned skin split, and already darkening into a bruise. Her breath came in short bursts, intersparsed with quiet sobbing. She bowed her head, allowing the curtain of long, dark hair to fall forward to hide her face.


As soon as he'd done it, Tynan regretted it, but anger was still his most prominent emotion, and he found himself unable to comfort her. Instead, he crouched down before her, and brushed aside the thick, dark locks, feeling her flinch beneath his touch. Using a hand to turn her gaze back towards him, he gazed straight into the gleaming, blue eyes.

"You wanted emotion..." His voice was quiet once again, "You have it... Not a blank piece of parchment anymore, am I?"

With that, he stood, and left the room, leaving her lying there on Kara's bedroom floor.

~

Tynan stomped along the hallway and made his way down the long staircase into the great hall. He need to get back outside, needed the fresh air in his lungs. He couldn't...wouldn't believe, when his wife spoke of their daughter passing on. To do so would be to believe the worst. That she was dead, and he would never see his little girl ever again. He shook his head in frustration, as if to try to erase the thought from his mind.

'No, it's not true,' he thought to himself, as he grasped the ornate silver door handle. He wrenched open the door and stepped back into the night. He stood at the top of the steps, breathing deeply, trying to eliminate both the anger and the guilt he felt at what had just happened. She had goaded him into doing it. She knew he hated such talk. The thoughts whirled around and around inside his head, all excuses for hitting his beautiful, loving wife.


He was interrupted by the frantic approach of one of his men. He waved Myrna away from his mind, and put new focus onto the oncoming soldier. The man stopped, panting from his exertions, leaning against a large stone gargoyle.

"Sir..." he puffed, drawing deep breaths as he spoke. "News...from the posts at the southern borders of the Daire Forest...The creature, Delano, has been spotted emerging from the Swamp of Despair...He's on the move, my Lord...after thirteen years years. That can only mean one thing..."


"The coming of The One," Tynan, finished the man's sentence, and was met with a nod of agreement. His face had furrowed into a vicious frown at the mention of the monster who was responsible for his daughter's disappearence. All these years later, Tynan still tracked him, still wanted to give him what he deserved, once he'd gotten out of Delano what he wanted to know...what had happened to Kara. But now he had a choice on his hands. He would be riding out that night, either to capture the fiend, or to find The One and destroy them.Hate filled his heart when he thought of Delano, and a need to get revenge was overwhelming. But the coming of The One had been fortold in connection to his downfall, and the downfall of the empire built by his father and grandfather. He looked down at the soldier.

"Tell your men to make ready. We ride out tonight."

With that he turned, and stalked back into the castle. He had a decision to make.

~~~

She touched the window, with a frozen hand, watching him as he re-entered his home...once her home. But no longer, trapped in this state of etherealness as she was, as she had been for thirteen years. Her body gone, Kara's spirit had continued to mature, though her appearence, to those who could see, remained the same. Long golden hair fell about her white face, set with souless black eyes. Still dressed in her nightgown, shredded in the center, where her chest and her heart used to be. Now all that lay there was a concave mess of blood and ripped flesh. Bitterness enveloped her beautiful features.

"How unfair," she related, "to have no heart, yet to still be able to feel. To be able to feel hate, and yet have no physical body with which to enact revenge. Wouldn't you say?"


As she spoke, an entity appeared at her right shoulder, shadowy and inconsistant in appearence, yet it malicious intent struck her to the core, and matched her own hatred. When it spoke, the voice was soft, yet it grated against the night like steel upon steel.

"As unfair as it is, my lady, to have your life snatched away from you at such a young age. Your afterlife merely matches your death. And your bitterness, your hatred, matches that of your father, who refuses to allow you to pass over."

"I don't want to pass over!" she snapped. "I want to live! I...I want..." She paused and the lines of malevolence upon her child-like face deepened. "I want Delano to pay! TO PAY FOR WHAT HE DID TO ME!" She screamed the final words, though none heard her. She turned, and looked upon the entity behind her. "Leave me be!"

Instantly, it was gone, and she was alone. She looked up at the roses that surrounding her, the center of each coloured with her blood, as a reminder to her father that she was still here. She melted to the floor, sitting in a heap upon her undiscovered grave, and allowed herself to weep.


Okay, the first dp is for what Tynan should do? He's hurt his wife, and has two beings that he wishes to capture/destroy. What is his next move to be? Thanks again for reading! :)

[Thunderbird]

A long but entertaining read, Tikky! There's so much clear emotion in every one of these characters. The dramatic stages have been set so intensely that it won't be hard to want to follow and read more as it comes.

The witch forcing her slave to do her bidding - wicked evil character there. Truly fascinating and well thought out. Its often hard to make the bad guys bad but you have done so effortlessly with how she's working to corrupt her servant.

The King's reaction to his wife pressing him to communicate with her... profound. The statement he made at the end of that scene... not so emotionless now eh? Whoah. Not sure where you drew this from but the poignancy and relatability and... reality in such an interaction... struck me as extremely insightful.

And to find our Kara is spiritually stuck in the rose garden... such a shame, so isolated, so much youth lost. So much potential, bleeding into the roses around her. Beautiful themes you're weaving together here.

Tynan... he should consult with a Medium. His wife has just made him think that perhaps he must admit his daughter may be dead and if she is dead, a Medium may be able to contact her. Then he can know who deserves his wrath. And of course, confirmation of her spiritual existance would be helpful to creating some closure.

[Smee]

Definitely a great start.

A few typos have managed to stay hidden, but that was inevitable in so large a chapter.

As TB has said, your characterisation is splendid, you've brought to life a varied cast and set the stage for a most interesting story.

Some additional thoughts :

- The boar hunting story struck me as a little odd. Perhaps it's just the way this world works, but from my experience of stories involving boar hunts it is more normal for the main hunters to be armed with heavy boar spears, which would be held steady, with the point raised up slightly and the butt held ready to plunge into the ground. The boar litterally impales itself as it charges at the men. Even this isn't quite enough though, horizontal barbs of metal a foot or so down from the point are there to stop the boar continuing its charge down the shaft of the spear and still goring the hunter despite its own mortal wound.

On the periphery of the hunting party will be some archers, but they would mainly be there to help flush out the boar, as well taking smaller game - rabbits, birds etc - as they wander the woods searching for their main quarry. Most arrow hits would just enrage the boar, not kill it, atleast not quick enough.

~

- Your action sections do tend a bit to the tell rather than show. As an example :

Quote: He was interrupted by the franctic approach of one of his men, who obviously had information that needed to be urgently recieved. He waved Myrna away from his mind, and put new focus onto the oncoming soldier. The man stopped, panting from his exertions, leaning against a large stone gaygoyle.

The second part of the first sentence, starting with 'who' and ending with 'received' isn't necessary. We can deduce the urgency from the 'frantic' approach of the man, along with his later pantings. Indeed, such things build up a tension, an excitement which is kind fizzled because we are then told exactly why he's frantic rather than being shown it through the upcoming dialogue. The King doesn't know why until he hears the report, no reason we should be told before.

And on a side point with this particular example... discipline seems to be lacking in this army where soldiers are allowed to slack against homosexual statues ( :lol: )... no matter how tired they are ;)

~

Decision point : I do like TB's idea, but he seems far more likely he's going to want to ride out rather than sit around awaiting a medium. That said, riding out without a proper focus would be pointless. Perhaps there's a court advisor who could be consulted, who dabbles in medium work on the side, enough for the King to sidetrack briefly and seek some closure.

Looking forward to more.

Happy Writing :)

[Tikanni Corazon]

Thanks guys for your comments! Much appreciated! :)


@TB- I'm glad that the characters came across so well for you, and especially that you pointed out the scene between Tynan and Myrna. The dialogue in that particular scene was something that I really wanted to get right, and I took alot of time striving to do so. And I'm also happy that you liked the Kara section too. I was wondering if it was enough, or if it might need to be built upon further, but you've put my mind at ease. Thankyou!


@Smee- Okies, the boar hunt...possibly should have done a little research into that, and will do so, at some point in the near future, and then give it a slight rewrite. Thanks for pointing it out, as it is something that would never have occured to me.

As for the rest, I've corrected the spelling mistakes you pointed out (thanks again), and removed the unnecessary part of that sentence. As for the soldiers...sloppiness, I will give that a rewrite asap, and make him more diciplined;). Not really in the writing kind of mood at the moment, but hopefully I'll feel better in a few days.

Hmmm, I now also recall there's some work needed on the prologue of that nature too. Ditto, to the above for that too.


I'm loving the Medium idea, by the way. Could so work with that!


Thanks again to both of you! :)

[PopeAlessandrosXVIII]

Oki, took a while to get to it, but I'm glad I did!


The characters are wonderful! My beady liitle heart of vial degridation beats with such passion in the presence of such well defined evil. I couldn't keep the grin off my face when the lil pixi was being sent out to go lure in a chaild. Very well done! As for the king, his reaction was a real shock at that moment, which I supose has to do with the how-they-met story from moents before. So much love, building up, the BAM! Sucker punch. Oh! And this part here....


Quote: His thoughts returned to the present, and Tynan found himself in Kara's bedroom, looking out over his courtyard and kingdom beyond. The candle, that beacon to guide his little girl home, sat upon the sill in front of him. He found himself transfixed by the flickering flame for a moment, the mirage of oranges, golds and yellows having an almost hypnotic effect on him. At times, he swore he could see her image, dancing within the fire.


So hard was he concentrating on it, that he didn't notice her enter the room, stepping silently across the stone floor, and closing the door quietly behind her. Neither did he hear her approach. Only when she slipped her arms around his waist, and laid her head against his strong shoulder blades did he take heed of her presence.

"Tell me your thoughts, love," Myrna's soft voice broke through the silence of the empty room, and vibrated gently upon his back, where she held him to her.

They way it's set up, I thought Kara had walked into the room, It was jarring and very confuseing. I think we need a few less "her"s and a little more description.

Over all, a great chapter! As for the DP.....Get the evil bastage. I don't see the slighest bit of rational left in this wife hitter. All he seems to feel now is anger, so in truth, I don't see anything but "KILL!" on his mind.

Keep up the good work my dear lady. =^.^=