Tuesday, March 16, 2010

DRAGONBANE, beginning.

Alchemy’s Encyclopedia:
Dark Knight (n)-one of four branches of government that exists in the world of Merlin; the Gray Branch; the Blue Branch; the Red Branch; the Orange Branch. Three branches consist of humans; the fourth branch, the Orange Branch, consists of magical creatures and the like. The Dark Knight is a human turned mutant with the abilities of sleight-of-hand; dark foresight; and a flair for adventure. Most humans never go back. Most aren’t able to return to their normal life, whether they drop the knight title or not.
* * *

CHAPTER ONE.

Alchemy’s Encyclopedia:
Dark Knight (n)-one of four branches of government that exists in the world of Merlin; the Gray Branch; the Blue Branch; the Red Branch; the Orange Branch. Three branches consist of humans; the fourth branch, the Orange Branch, consists of magical creatures and the like. The Dark Knight is a human turned mutant with the abilities of sleight-of-hand; dark foresight; and a flair for adventure. Most humans never go back. Most aren’t able to return to their normal life, whether they drop the knight title or not.
* * *

CHAPTER ONE.
The White Raven clan moved through the inner part of the kingdom of Hanover. The white robed men shuffled through dirt and mud and snow; the snow fell from the sky in sheets and everything sparkled and was white, whiter than anything, and the ground was white and they shuffled in the cold and the ground was cold, too. The night was cold. They huddled inside their fur coats and stared up at the dark sky, a strange, benevolent expression on their faces.
“Food,” Patric Conner grunted.
The woman, Wilma Rogers, smiled and offered him grapes and he popped three into his mouth. The White Raven clan were an interesting breed. They did not have homes to live in; they shunned money of all kinds; they were not brave in battle and ran away, screaming, afraid of trauma to the head-they were very particular about the head injuries, especially, and didn’t like not knowing what was going on. They lived in caves and huts, mostly, sometimes on the beach. They were mostly cold-blooded creatures, and Merlin didn’t take kindly on humans who were cold-blooded. The night glared over them. Everything was stark and white and naked to the bone. The whiteness was seen all around them and the cold snaked through them and everything was discolored and strange. The universe was a strange place and they often talked about getting on a spaceship and returning to Earth, but they did not know how and scientists were not brilliant in that regards; they did not know how to build a spaceship.
The sky was an endless blackness.
Endless and ash gray.
Everything was ash gray.
They felt very sorry for themselves. They wanted to live in a home and could not. They wanted to breed and were afraid of contracting diseases. They were afraid; wary; helpless; their conversation was hushed and muted.
One day, they came upon a small hut.
The hut was made from mud.
The mud was caked into hardpacked soil and it could house the entire clan, of which there were ten people. The ten clan members could all fit inside the hut and they built a fire in the firepit and warmed their hands. It was warm. The clan found a corn field behind the hut and made corn mush and the wind cried and moaned and the house was built from mud; and the cold was inside of it. The wind was sad and lonely and the clan ate their corn mush and talked amongst themselves. The leader was Don Whittley. He was thirty-nine and used to be a contractor in Na until he was tried as a witch and sent away. He was very deep; his words were deep and still and he couldn’t find himself thinking about anything other than rest. He used to stay up all night long, back when he was a young troll and lived with his parents. Now, his parents lived in the kingdom of Storm, and he visited them very rarely. He had been stuck in the attic for awhile, but he was too bored to leave it himself. Apparently, Andrea was amused by the whole thing. He was, too, kinda. Not really, he guessed she lived in the Tower along with the other Elders. Some of them went stag, and had their own place. Some of them were virtually homeless, and went from one country to another. He looked out of the Watch Tower. One small yellow light blinked on the roof and everything blinked and flickered and moved; it was stiller than the quietest night, and the wind cried and was sad and lonely. The troll hummed a tune under his breath. He liked to make up songs while he was waiting in the attic. He liked to make up songs; they were good enough for his own ears.
The silence of the night was all around.
Even in the silence, the night was all around.
Everything was still. Shadows were everywhere. Shadows fell over everything and the night was still. It was cold. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself; and he went into the kitchen and made himself a hamburger. The refrigerator was stuffed with food. Magic refilled it. There were only two refrigerators in all of Merlin that could do that; the one at the Tower of Light (aka the Tower of High Sorcery), and the one at the Watch Tower. It was midnight. After midnight. He heard whispers in the dark; whispers from the ghosts who dwelled in the Tower, the ghosts that cried and spoke about nothing. The language of the dead. He was not fluent in the language of the dead, but it was much like the Harhishians. It started to snow. The troll went out of the front door and into the yard. The yard was so bright it was spotless and the night was calm and cold and everything was calm; colder than cold. The coldness was everywhere.

*

Jenny Biggins was nine-years-old. She had red hair and blue eyes. She was three foot one and very skinny for her age and she loved to read books, especially the big, thick ones she could get lost in. She had knobby knees. She hated gym class and liked her teacher, Mr. Babbage. He had wavy brown hair and brown eyes and a wife named Laura. Laura had white hair. Jenny hated gym class. She always sucked at gym class and was always picked last for volleyball. Her best friend, Clark Jesken, was always picked first. He was good at games and had a basketball court in his backyard. He said it was a present from his father for his ninth birthday. His father was always excited about the sports Clark played. He was going to be a basketball player when he grew up. It was his dream. Clark knocked on the door of her house. He had his backpack slung over his arm, and a sandwich in the other, and was eating the sandwich. “Come on,” he told her. “Let’s go.”
She laughed. “What are you eating the sandwich for?” she asked him. “You know it's breakfast!”
Clark shrugged. “I’m hungry,” he said, frowning at her. “Besides, Mom gave me a dollar. I can buy a hot lunch today.” He grinned. He had been wanting to get his mother to buy him a hot lunch for awhile now. She finally caved in. It was one small victory, he said.
“You’re going to have to bring a sandwich tomorrow,” she informed him.
He made a face. “I know. I hope it’s tuna fish.” He shook his head and they walked down the sidewalk to the street. It was a warm day outside. The sun was in the sky. It was very hot. They walked down the street and to the elementary school at the end of the street. Clark and Jenny pushed open the big double doors and went inside together. Their class room was on the first floor. Jenny put her lunch in the cubby hole and sat down in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. Mr. Babbage had not come in yet. Yettle Ewelender, the new kid, showed everyone his pet frog. He brought it for Show-and-Tell. Clark said Show-and-Tell was for babies and said Mr. Babbage was having a marital crisis at home. Whatever that meant. But Jenny agreed with him, anyway. He was a little weird. He always wore brown pants and a white shirt and his hair slicked back until it shone. He wore glasses. Jenny thought he was kind of cute except for the glasses. She thought Clark was cute but not in a boyfriend way. Her other friend, Martha Rhodes, had a boyfriend. His name was Cliff Trend. He was in the fourth grade. Jenny met Cliff during lunch once. He was a very bubbly sort of person.
“What are you doing today?” Jenny asked Tyrone Wells. He was a blonde-haired boy and had glasses and dark eyes. Jenny heard he was part Elven, that his parents were part of the Council of Elders that worked at the Tower of High Sorcery in Bromwell.
“I don’t really know,” Tyrone replied, shaking his head. “I was going to go to the river and hunt for tadpoles. I like to watch them grow into frogs.”
“You can’t cage tadpoles!” she protested.
Tyrone scowled. “They won’t be caged,” he replied. “They’ll find a nice home.”
Jenny shrugged. “Whatever,” she replied. She sat down.
The classroom door opened and Mr. Babbage entered and sat down at his desk. His desk was very neat. A notebook was placed on it; along with a coffee cup; a calculator; and two planners, a school planner and his own planner. Mr. Babbage was fond of planners. Jenny didn’t use them. Her parents were poor, and besides, she didn’t have time to use a planner.
“Today,” he said. “Today we’re going to learn about the history of Orkshire.”
Jenny made a face. She didn’t want to learn about the city she lived in. It was stupid. “I want to learn about Earth,” she informed him.
Mr. Babbage looked surprised. “Who told you about such things?” he demanded, making a face at her. Mr. Babbage started making a bunch of goofy faces and she glared back at him.
“You’re such a weirdo,” she snorted.
“You’re a weirdo!” he replied. “You’re not to learn about Earth until the Council wishes you to.” With that, he started telling a story about how an Elf came into Orkshire one day and stole a bag of apples. She dropped her pencil and bent over to pick it up to tie her shoes. She glanced around. No one had noticed she dropped it. She put her head on her desk and noticed a piece of thread rested on the edge of the desk and she glared at the piece of thread, too. She reached out to pick it up and throw it on the floor. Suddenly, a burst of lightning tore through her fingers and streaked across the desk and the piece of cloth turned to metal. She yelped, “Ow!” and sucked on her finger.
Everyone laughed. “Jenny’s sucking her thumb!” Matthew Winters cried, pointing at her.
Mr. Babbage looked annoyed. “All of you, shut up!” he scowled. “Sucking your thumb is not a terrible problem. I do it on occasion.” He glared at everyone and told them to be quiet and concentrate on learning about Elves. Elves was a prime topic nowadays because of the Great Elf War in Bromwell, at the Tower, and other places around the world of Merlin. War was a terrible, terrible thing. War was never-ending.

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