Bulletin #1

There may not be another update to either of the stories for the next two weeks after this Friday, 18th of July. I'm working on one, but it's coming along really, deathly slow. I've got about... one page of a chapter on the slate though, but it's going to take time. Hopefully I get back to speed after these summer classes are over. (And I ace them and get good grades.)

Heart and Sword PT. 2

And so it goes, the second part of Heart and Sword. Will Lilithia die during the long night? Or perhaps will she survive...





Heart and Sword, Part Two


Lilithia awoke the next day, with Malifain still by her side. As she groaned from the searing pain in her ribs, she opened her eyes, and though she couldn’t see Malifain through her bleary vision, Lilithia knew who the owner of the voice that greeted her as she woke up.
“Lilith! Oh, I thought your fever wouldn’t break…” He said, pressing a cool hand to her brow. She was still quite hot to the touch, but the fever was slowly easing. Malifain’s blurry but cheerful smile made her shift just slightly, but she found herself wrapped tightly in his arms, held to his chest. She must have been squirming and fighting, drenched in sweat now. She felt a cool rag move across her forehead as she closed her eyes, though the light in the room was dim. She could remember Solanil shooting her with two arrows. That explained the pains in her stomach and ribs.
“Where…” She began, her voice too soft for Malifain to really hear. He shook his head and covered her lips with a palm to quiet her, having taken her amulet and worn it around his neck as long as he had been with her when she was sick. He had seen her dreams and her thoughts, though some were very clouded and distorted. His face turned a slightly paler shade of fine ivory as he remembered seeing through her eyes the murder of his sister.




“That one?” The male soldier standing next to Lilithia had asked. She nodded, chanting a low incantation as she watched the girl. She took an arrow, the same one used by the surface elves, and strung it on a short bow that had been made with the stiff tendon of a dragon. As she shot the arrow, it blasted through Aya’s chest, the hole sizzling as the girl dropped and bled to death in the dirt. She would never have taken such precaution in killing just one child unless it was important. This was. Lolth herself had told Lilithia of the child’s future, the child was to be her rival. So she had slain the girl to open her own path to becoming a goddess.
Lilithia gave the bow to her soldier with a sneer of disgust and smiled, though the light burned her skin and eyes, she knew Lolth would be pleased. Maybe one day she would even push Lolth off her thrown and claim it for herself, but she must be careful.




Malifain sighed, knowing that she couldn’t have helped it. Though he had not seen the death blow himself, he knew now that the stories were very, very real.
“You and I are in Celaine’s cottage.” The elf whispered, prying himself away to kneel beside the cot and check her bandages. He saw the wicked wound in her ribs, the arrow head was still lodged deep within her flesh. Malifain picked up a slender scoop like utensil off the table, looking to her.
“I was advised to wait until you were awake for this, I need you to help.” He told her calmly as he pushed the blankets back. He slowly pushed the small scoop into the hole, searching for the metal arrowhead. Lilithia nearly fainted at the pain in her ribs, moaning lowly and barely managing not to move to curl away from the cruel pain.
“Deeper.” She gasped, her hands wrapping around his fore arm. Deeper went the scoop, and Malifain smiled as he wiggled the small metal point free, working it back out of her skin. He saw her jaw tense and the tears welling from her eyes, but once the bloody arrowhead was set on the table he smiled.
“It’s out now.” He said, wiping the blood away from the small hole. Then he saw the dark green paste on her skin. Poison! On Solanil’s arrows? Solanil had been planning, he had known he would get only one shot. Malifain knew now why her fever hadn’t broken. Malifain kept calm, wiping the poisoned paste carefully away and frowning. If it was the type Malifain suspected, Lilithia had a slim chance of surviving, and if she did she may never see or hear after this tenday. Celaine entered just then and saw his troubled expression.
“Malifain, what is…” She almost asked until held the green and red splotched rag up. She gasped, biting her lip and shaking her head. She doubted that she had the experience to counter the powerful potion, with Solanil gone at least. He alone knew the cure, and as the village’s leader, chaos had followed his swift escape.
“I cannot.” She whispered as she closed the door, her thin lips curling into a slight pout. She really wished she could help him, despite her jealousy of Lilithia for gaining his attention. “It’s Atropa Belladonna, I’m sure… but I don’t know how to make the antidote, Solanil never taught me.” Celaine said, shrugging and leaning on the door. She knew it was too late to have sucked the poisons out, and even then, the person that did that would be poisoned slightly.
“Wait!” She said, shaking one hand as she darted across the room to the cupboard. Solanil, as the main botanist, had a supply of herbs here for her, and if she could find the powder that he had recently placed in there, she could cure Lilithia. “Damnit!” She spat as she closed the cupboard and crossed the room again. Malifain stood, dropping the rag on the small desk by the bed and walking towards Celaine cautiously.
“It’s gone.” He said, having heard the powerful outburst of thoughts. He frowned and hooked an arm over her shoulder, leading her out the door so they could both get some fresh air. “I suspected he was planning this, after he started being restless the last few days she’s been here. The council refused to send her away.”
Celaine nodded as she looked to him, his stark blue eyes piercing straight to her soul. He knew that she had loved him, and perhaps that might change, he hoped. He wanted her to see that he wasn’t the only one looking at her. One of Celaine’s friends was always watching her, like Malifain watched Lilithia.
“Where is her father?” Celaine asked him, her ideas running through the ways she might acquire the antidote to the poisons. The salve was made to be slow acting, Lilithia might have three weeks at best. Just enough time for her father to find and return the beans that would save her. Malifain shrugged and nodded to the dark elf approaching from the path ahead. Drizzt’s face was stoic, a few small worry wrinkles creasing his cheeks around his lips.
“Is she awake?” He asked Malifain, nodding to Celaine as she smiled. Malifain shook his head and took a deep breath.
“She’s been poisoned, but we know the cure. Celaine and I will need your help to get the pods.” He said, glancing at Celaine, who was busy closing her mouth as she wondered how he’d know her every thought without her speaking them. Drizzt nodded and relaxed, leaning back on his heels to digest their information. He was worried that there had been poison on the dart, he was the first to suspect that there may have been.
“Pods?” He asked, quirking a brow. Malifain nodded.
“Bean pods to make the potion antidote and counteract the effects of the poison,” He said, taking his arm off of Celaine’s shoulder to step forward. “Solanil himself created the poison salve, and he found a way to make the naturally quickly fatal poisons last for weeks.”
Drizzt nodded slowly and looked to Celaine. He had known that she was Solanil’s assistant, but what could she know?
“Celaine,” He asked, shifting to face her, “Where is this bean and how long do I have to find it?”
Celaine bit her lip, gnawing on them as she calmed her thoughts.
“Three weeks. You must go to Waterdeep and ask Gruez. He knows where to find the bean pods.” She said, hoping he was up to the task. Drizzt nodded and shifted again, anxious to be on his way.
“I need supplies and a horse, I’ll leave tonight.” He said, planning his route slowly. He would have to pass through Mirabar, but he decided against that. He’d have to travel off the road, many still did not welcome him with open arms. After that, he wasn’t sure, but he knew it would be a rough task to complete in only three weeks.
Malifain whistled, bringing a large smoky grey gelding up from the back of the house. He smiled, walking towards the shed to saddle the horse up and fill a pack for Drizzt to have him on his way. They both knew, without words, the troubles and difficulty that lay ahead. Once Drizzt had the pack and his water skin strapped on and he was mounted on the big grey, he nodded to Malifain where he stood, again, with Celaine in front of the hut.
“Goodspeed, light trails and fair weather.” Malifain promised as Drizzt wheeled the horse about and jogged away. Malifain secretly hoped that he could find some cure here before he had had to send him away. Three weeks away with his daughter about to die. But Malifain understood Drizzt too well. He turned to Celaine, sighing and letting his smile pass away. Celaine nodded and they both returned to the comfort of the cottage, Malifain to sleep once more at Lilithia’s side, Celaine to search through Solanil’s abandoned tomes for the cure.

Heart and Sword

Here's the newest piece of Lilithia's story, Heart and Sword. I'll put a short description, it's neccessary because this portion is actually cut into two smaller pieces. I might start adding a little tidbit of Lilithia's own thoughts, in the style of R. A. Salvatore's books, but so far I think just getting these post rounded off evenly and posted is quite enough. (Though don't doubt that I might as well try!)

Short description:

Lilithia is given a test by the elves of Riverdale, unknowing of what is truly underfoot. Solanil has plans to get Lilithia in some deep trouble, perhaps earning an exile from the valley. Malifain woories for her, despite her growing confidence that she can overcome the boundaries of color and intent. But Solanil will not let it go that easily.

In Her Eyes...

Like Entreri and the fights he waged against my father, Solanil shall surely attempt a second run of making my life miserable. Making it so, as he believes, because I have earned it in some way. I am no more a murderer, I have come to see where I stumbled. My father's paths and my own, so very much alike and so very different. Where he was able to escape, I saw myself drawing into that web of lies. I could not help it, I was a high priestess, earning a reputation beyond that of my own mother. A reputation splashed by the blood of a hundred innocents.

My father says that, perhaps, I am like his sister, before she was forced under the water of those lies for too long and her inner innocence was destroyed, was stripped away. Yet Solanil, he condemns me. I am never to be better, never to change. Why can I be charged for the way I was trained, told to act as a child, but when I take things into my own hands and try to correct where I veered off the path... If I had been who I was then I would have just slaughtered him for his closed heart. Blast and let him live in the Nine screaming Hells for all eternity.

But I cannot. This is my second childhood, learning what I should know and forgetting that which I must. Solanil may have tried to kill me but he is not my concern. The elves of Riverdale see what I have become and smile, how rare and lucky I may have been to earn this. But my father forged the path for me long ago, I must walk it in turn and trim the branches that have overgrown.

I must see and hear and think for myself out of the delusions of the wicked Spider Queen, and I must learn to forgive if others cannot. But never forget. Solanil could have learned a lot had he listened to my father as I have. I saw with my own eyes that day that he would never change.

(Picture by Anna Rigby, editing done by me. Lilithia is mine.)

Heart and Sword

Drizzt watched s Malifain paced across the decorative rug in front of the cabin’s door, his arms crossed over his chest and his face a slight bit concerned. The young elf seemed to worry more when Lilithia was absent from his careful watch, but he never voiced that concern to anyone. The door cracked open as a person entered, but it was not Lilithia, as Malifain soon realized. He fell back into his quiet brooding and pacing as Solanil closed the door behind himself.
“She has done well.” Solanil stated, a wry smile brushing over his lips. The half elf man looked to Drizzt, with the same respect he laid upon Malifain, and nodded. “Lilithia may never be innocent in my eyes but in the eyes of Mielikki she is accepted.”
Drizzt nodded and stood, bowing to Solanil. He had taught her himself how to work with animals, and as a test of her patience, they had given her a lively filly to tame and ride today. Drizzt had known that his daughter could tame the horse easily, it was the unknown trial that he knew he could not have prepared her for. Malifain was surprised, but even more shocked that Lilithia hadn’t returned yet. In the previous tendays, he had become close to her, as it was his duty to watch over her and teach her.
“And where is she, Solanil?” He asked, stopping in front of his brother to look him in the eyes. Solanil shook his head and smiled, laying a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder.
“Rest easy, I know you’re fond of the girl, I haven’t given her too much trouble.” Solanil promised, somewhat envious of his younger brother. Malifain was always the ‘younger’ one, but nobody but Solanil and Malifain understood that he was many years older. Solanil had drawn Lilithia aside to explain this, that Malifain was nearly ninety years old. Elves did not age, though, and Solanil was half human. He had lived to be forty, but the age had taken its toll and he looked the proper age. The room was silent for a long while as Malifain and Solanil conversed within their facial expressions, neither truly needing words. Finally, Malifain broke the silence.
“She was injured.” He stated, not pointing out that he believed Solanil responsible in some part for that. Solanil nodded, though he didn’t have to, and Malifain’s powerful scowl put him in his place before he could explain.
“What happened?” Malifain demanded before his brother could make an excuse. Malifain and Solanil got along well, but they were not exactly brothers. Malifain never hated his brother, but he often wondered why, after the wrongful murder of his elvish father, that his mother had taken on a human man as her lover. He expressed that in his venomous glare when Solanil took his time answering.
“One of her spells rebounded off of a mirror and hit her…” He said, seeming not to care. Malifain grew impatient with Solanil’s games.
“Where is she? I want to see her to see how bad it is.” He insisted, turning to the door and opening it. Solanil shook his head, noticing his brother’s odd behavior. It wasn’t like Malifain to take particular interest in only one person, and especially not a girl. And definitely not a drow maiden.
“She refused our help.” He insisted, but Malifain was the door and down the path before even Drizzt could react. Drizzt let Solanil leave of his own accord, listening to the soft mutterings he heard with his eyes half closed.
Malifain found Lilithia is a small meadow, her tunic off as she sat in the shade of an oak, at the edge of a shallow pond. She cringed as she washed at a magical gash in her shoulder, likely from a bolt she herself had created, as Solanil had said. He made a great attempt at being silent, but he realized that his best chance to not surprise her was to be noticed. He could hear her gasp as her finger touched the wound. The rocks under his boots made little sound, just enough to make her turn to him from over her shoulder.
“Malifain, I…” She stammered, but before she could insist he leave he was right beside her, using a clean rag to wipe away the blood trickling down her bare front. They were unaware that they had two people watching them.
“I know. You are hurt, and badly it seems.” He said, his musical voice calming her just enough. She could smell Drizzt nearby, but she thought it only to be the tunic she had borrowed. Little did she know he was behind her in the bush, watching over her as Malifain had lead him to her. He intended to make sure Solanil did not interfere with the two. Solanil did not know about the drow hiding twenty feet to his left in the same trees, each of them fifteen feet from the couple.
Malifain could sense his brother’s magic, but it was weak, as though he was a few miles away. He shrugged off the thought as he looked to Lilithia’s wound with the utmost care. As she winced, a crystal tear streaked down over her cheek. Malifain noticed and stopped, leaning close to her to wipe it away on his thumb.
“I am sorry. Maybe I could find something to dull the pain…” He said, but before he could react, she had leaned forward and collapsed into his arms, sobbing softly.
“It’s not the pain, I failed. After the spell backfired the filly kicked me and bolted. Solanil was very angry.” She said between deep breaths. “I ran away in shame.”
Malifain shook his head, holding her close. Shame? She didn’t realize that the real test had been in just convincing Solanil that she had the knowledge and confidence to try, to go out and get the horse, to ask for the pasture, to walk among the elves as if she were one. He wasn’t smiling though, as he ignored the blood on his shoulder from her wound.
“No, Lilith. That was worthless. The only thing that matter was that you have proved your willingness to be as one of us. And some of your patience with animals.” Malifain said, having to twist his head to the side to speak to her, his breath drifting across her ear. Lilithia turned her head up just then as she was digesting his words, their eyes meeting. Before either could say a word, they closed their mouths, staying silently entwined as the birds in the forest around them continued to twitter and chirp for the next few moments. Drizzt slipped silently away to give them privacy, but Solanil became angry, barely holding back. He watched as Malifain, with Lilithia supported in his lithe arms, leaned further down towards her lavender gaze, his lips pressing to hers in a chaste kiss before pulling back, angry that the wench had been apt at seducing his brother. Lilithia leaned up into the kiss, her lips parting slightly as Malifain moved away.
The moment’s silence was shattered as Solanil stormed out of the trees, his bow knocked once, then again as Lilithia tried to draw her scimitars. The arrows barely nicked Malifain as he tried to protect her by intercepting them, watching in horror as one lodged deep into her belly and the other snagged between her ribs. He looked to Solanil in a shocked rage, as Drizzt, called by the sound of flying arrows, burst out of the trees opposite Solanil. He rushed to Lilithia, sheathing his scimitars and taking her as she fainted. Malifain stood and pulled out his two elvish swords, charging Solanil in an unbridled rage.
“You seek to kill the girl!” He growled, wincing as Solanil used the bow to knock the blades away. Drizzt left the two to their fight as he broke the arrow shafts off and carried Lilithia away, swiftly making his way to the village healer. Only her low groans kept him going, knowing that she would fight for life yet. The arrow in her belly had been in a vital area and Drizzt knew to dally with such a wound would be fatal. Soon, the echoes of metal on metal reached his ears as he arrived at the healer’s cottage.
Solanil’s blades slammed into Malifain’s as he parried, making the elf’s arms tingle. The fight raged, Solanil driven back on his heels by the furious slashes and lunges that Malifain was using, was not as quickly tiring as his brother. Malifain slowed suddenly and Solanil noticed the shock, but not before her felt the searing pain tat could only mean one thing.
Malifain’s blade left a deep gash between Solanil’s ribs, not a fatal wound but something that easily could have killed without proper treatment. Solanil turned, noticing that his forgiving elf brother hadn’t struck to kill, and ran head long into the forest. Malifain turned without even wiping his blade, his face grim as he started off to find where Drizzt Lilithia. He would never forgive his brother if the girl died, and if she had, he would hunt him down to bring justice to him.
His worries were sent away as he found Lilithia in the healer’s bed, sleeping soundly. They had given her a powerful sleep potion, she would be out for a few days they had said. He didn’t care as he sat beside her, her every noise, every sleep movement noted as he waited for her to awaken. He slept on the floor beside her cot that first night, he took his meals in the chair across the room. He rarely left the room except to change his clothing, to bathe, and to clean his bloody sword. He was glad that Celaine, the beautiful healer elf who had visited to care for Lilithia, had changed her out of her gear, the silk gown beautiful on the sleeping drow. The creamy white silk fell over her every curve perfectly, making her look almost angelic, something Malifain noticed was common for Lilithia.
Celaine paused one night as she set Malifain’s meal before him, sitting beside him at the demure wooden table.
“You care for her greatly.” She said, folding her arms on the table. She had fancied Malifain for many years, but always he had been too busy as a ranger to notice her. She was envious that a near-dead girl, and a drow at that! Could have swept him off his feet with such a lasting impact.
“Yes I do,” He said, eating slowly, “She deserves every chance to know forgiveness. And not hatred.” He explained, though he knew it was only partly true. Celaine frowned, her beautiful face turned down as the sharp answer.
“You lo…” She was about to say, but Malifain’s pleading glance silenced her. Celaine never questioned him again after that, for his look was so foul it might curl flowers at twenty yards. Even for an elf, Malifain disliked intrusions on his private thoughts.

Another Update

As promised. I had to search a tiny bit for this one, since it wasn't saved in a different segment like I usually do. If there are typos, try to survive while reading I didn't get as much time to edit as I would have liked.





Ashes on the Water - Part Three

Michelle woke with a jerk, finding Joshua’s arms still wound around her tightly when she shifted. Joshua smiled, the corner of his lip showing a bloody cut that had not been tended to. Michelle kissed his jaw, sitting up and blinking in the warm afternoon heat, her hoodie still soaked and coated on one arm by thick black sludge mud. She looked to his wounded shoulder, noting his stiffness and the cringe as he reached to touch her cheek. One of her nails had been torn off in the scuffle, his forehead at a cut by his hairline.

“We need to see a doctor.” She whispered, her voice soft and dry from sleep. Joshua nodded, standing and pulling her up with him.

“Yeah, I was waitin’ for you to wake up doll.” He whispered, cupping her to his chest with his good arm and reaching to pinch her nose. “Broken?”

“No, I don’t think Raz broke it.” She answered before he could try to convince her to let him fix it. In truth, she knew by the odd angle that it was broken, but not badly. Joshua led her out of the alley, on their way back to where Razuko had been attacked. Joshua saw the cop lights from around the corner and quickly held Michelle back, her concerned look telling him her fears. He peeked around, noting the pool of blood across the cement. Joshua promised himself he wouldn’t tell Michelle what he’d done to Razuko with the four other bullets in that gun.

He turned, passing her and grabbing her elbow, leading her down towards the river and pulling out the gun. No, he reconsidered, this was too close to the murder scene. He continued leading her up the street, ten miles up the river almost. They needed the gun anyways, with one bullet, for they were in the worst part of the city and only on foot. Joshua let Michelle stop to rest, and on the final mile je picked her up, cradling her in his arms. He was a strong man, a whole foot taller than her at six-foot-seven and a pretty scary man when pissed. That’s what she loved about him, that he would often scare her but she found his anger curious and if anything it drew her closer.

He had been careful not to become angry at her, the discipline of a Marine who had been hardened by eight years across seas in a small war in Brazil. Michelle often worried that he wouldn’t come back, but the worry of loosing him wasn’t as great as the loneliness of not having him or the insecurity of being alone in this city. Joshua would face down any threat to her, often with her help. They had met as companions on a deal with Pero long ago. Razuko, Pero’s younger brother, had foiled the deal and tried to kill Pero, but the fight had been arranged by Michelle, knowing they’d needed the time to escape.

A honk brought Michelle and Joshua back to the mangy street corner they stood on, across from the hospital. Someone’s car alarm had been set off and was going haywire. Michelle, exhausted from the walk and feeling it strongly, buried her head into his good shoulder and slept some more as he walked to the canal behind the river. He looked at the gun before throwing it out into the fast moving canal waters, turning and walking into the ER. He walked to one of the nurses and sat Michelle against the counter as he talked to the nurse.

“She’s got a broken nail and a broken nose I think. She’s pregnant too. I’ve got a gunshot in my shoulder, not critical, and a broken finger. A scrape on my forehead and a busted lip too.”

The nurse nodded, her fingers clicking in the information as he told her, before she stood and walked into the small office behind the desk. Two male nurses in blue scrubs walked out, helping to get Michelle strapped onto the gurney they had wheeled out. She stirred as they finished, looking to Joshua before passing out again, her hand curling and uncurling at her side. They took them both to a small room and set Joshua down to begin washing his wounds. He was stoic as they put the alcohol onto his shoulder, looking from the wound to Michelle as they worked with her too. He could see her cry as they fixed her nose, the doctor leaning over her on the opposite side of the gurney whispering to the nurse. She nodded and walked out, as the doctor looked at Michelle’s badly bent arm. Broken, Joshua guessed.

It broke his heart to see his little ‘Kiss’ in pain. He snarled softly as the nurse stuck a swab into his wound, his eyes narrowing. Who knows what that bastard Pero had told her when he was gone? He thought. And what was she dealing with Razuko for? The nurse gave him a quiet apology as the doctor helped wheel Michelle’s gurney out. They were back in an hour, Joshua waiting quietly on the bed in the painfully plain white room, his forehead stitched and bandaged, his lip also stitched, and his entire shoulder in a sling. Michelle’s arm was in a dark blue cast when they returned, her engagement ring having been removed. Kindly the doctor handed Joshua the ring and smiled.

“Baby’s fine and she’ll wake up shortly. We gave her heavy painkillers for us to fix that arm. Joshua smiled appreciatively and hugged the man, speechless for a moment.

“My health care should pay the bills, right doc?” Joshua asked, reaching for his wallet, but the doctor stopped him.

“Look, Josh, I’ll make sure to put as much onto your healthcare as I can, the rest I’ll pay personally. Michelle told us what happened to her, and we know she prefers her business to be left to herself.” He told Josh, giving the younger man’s wrist a gentle squeeze. Josh nodded, clapping the man on the shoulder and passed him to pull up a chair beside Michelle. He lay on the edge of the bed, his jacket and shirt on the chair, his good arm supporting his head as he watched her sleeping peacefully. She looked so beautiful to him that the temptation of having her in that gown was pretty strong, but he would wait until a more appropriate time. He noticed her moving and shifted closer, listening to her whisper in a dry voice. He kissed her and shook his head, standing and walking to the small sink and filling a paper cup with water, returning and holding her head up to dribble it into her lips. She smiled after he set the cup down, turning to him and opening her eyes. Her left eye had a light black spot under it, almost too puffy to be opened Joshua noted.

“Mmm, how long have I been out?” She whispered, wiggling the fingers of her right arm in the cast. He just shrugged, he hadn’t been counting the hours but he knew it to be late.

“Hey, they said the baby’s fine. I’m okay.” He said, clipping off her next question as that troubled look passed her face. He kissed her, pulling a blanket up over her and pulling her close to his warm body. He could feel the normal heat of the wound in his left shoulder, he wasn’t new to being a gun target. He’d survived being shot in the same shoulder six years ago. He looked down on her as she smiled in silence, his hand running from the knee where her gown ended, up to her hip, his thumb rubbing soft circles there. He knew his calloused hand to be rough, but she had thick skin and had even told him that she liked the feeling.

“Josh?” She whispered into his ear as he leaned to kiss her neck, trailing his hand around to her inner thigh and grinning like a wicked dog. Michelle bite her lip, shifting as best she could with her back so achy and stiff. She gave him a concerned look but he shook his head and moved his hand back out. He would wait until later, he had promised. Right now he just wanted to kiss her and bring her some pleasure for all the pain.