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Post by Child of Immanuel on May 28, 2005 14:56:14 GMT -5
Unfortunately, the psilobe made his head hurt so badly that he felt Emperor Sidious was shocking him with the blue lighting from his fingertips. He gave up, focusing on reaching the Hollow Mountain.
Yet later... the Ku knight moved. He distinctly felt something and its pose had changed when he looked at it.
(Psilobe is the mind drug used in Empyrion)
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Post by dgan on May 29, 2005 0:08:29 GMT -5
Ian felt the hopelessness tightening its grasp on his soul. It was as if the entire weight of the tree he was searching for was collapsing his chest. His lungs were close to bursting. He knew he was in a panic and searched his mind desperately for a thought that would calm him.
Suddenly, Ian grasped the book he still carried with him. His premonition terrifying him, he recklessly threw the book open, nearly tearing the pages from their stitching. Much of the book was still blank, but he continued paging back until I found the words he hoped he wouldn't. Ian threw the book for him, screaming and writhing on the ground. How could it be?!
The last line of the book had read, "Suddenly, Ingmar grasped the book he still carried with him."
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Post by karenee on May 29, 2005 0:14:52 GMT -5
Ian woke. He lay in darkness, surrounded by a soft patter as of rain, though he was not wet. Blinking, he held his hand before his face, but could not see it. Where was he? He felt his shoulder. Healed now, the ridges of the scar rippled beneath his fingers, writhing as though his skin were made of worms.
Jerking upright, he yelled in fear, but found he could not hear his own voice. What could be going on?
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Post by Child of Immanuel on May 29, 2005 7:01:17 GMT -5
Shaking all over, he started to walk again. Shudders kept crawling up his back and slapping him in the head. After a long time of dazed walking, he suddenly realized he had forgotten the book and the knife. And he had no idea which way to go to find them.
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Post by karenee on May 29, 2005 17:43:33 GMT -5
Plucking a scrambling shudder off his shoulder before it could smack him, Ian realised that light had been growing around him for some time. Now he could see the creature as it wriggled and grimaced at him. Scowling, he tossed it into the bushes and tried to brush the rest off his back.
He didn't feel he ought to kill them, as they were merely being annoying, but on top of everything else going wrong in his life, they were perilously near to driving him to the breaking point. A rustling in the bushes nearby alerted him to a larger companion. He hoped this time it would be something of help to him, as he'd had enough bad surprises for the day.
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Post by Child of Immanuel on May 29, 2005 18:00:27 GMT -5
The wevicat padded out, transfixing him with its large green eyes. It snagged its paw against Ian's shirt, exposing his chest, while Ian could not move. However, when it saw the Ku knight it turned tail and bounded away.
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Post by karenee on May 29, 2005 22:09:46 GMT -5
Ian gulped and sat down heavily. What had just happened? He had been sure he was dead.
He examined the scar. Was it a protection? It seemed to be. The lady had provided more than he thought. He wished he hadn't lost his knife.
Suddenly, he looked at the scar again. Was it pointing? A sudden hunch encouraged him to rise and begin walking in the direction the knight pointed. Perhaps he wasn't lost after all.
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Post by Child of Immanuel on May 30, 2005 6:46:08 GMT -5
He came upon his knife and book a while later. Though rather dirt-stained, they were untouched. He gathered them up, shuddering a little at the book, which he dared not look at. Then he kept walking, with the uncanny feeling that the forest was stretching.
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Post by karenee on May 30, 2005 18:04:18 GMT -5
Suddenly, a flare of light burst from the scar, illuminating his surroundings with an amazing light. He yelled, his heart pounding, as the trees melted away to become giant seloaths. He knew now why he felt as though he had been taking psilobe, Father had told him how dangerous the emenations of the siloath trees were to humans.
Amazed again at his survival, Ian burst into a run, hoping the massive grove would quickly end. He gave thanks to the Lady as he ran, knowing that it was only due to her kindness that he still lived. On his shoulder the knight changed direction and Ian followed. Soon, oh soon, he would find a way to complete his father's task.
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Post by Child of Immanuel on May 31, 2005 14:22:52 GMT -5
He burst out of the trees and off a small embankment, which, combined with his speed, had the effect of sending him to the ground to roll and clutch at his ankle. Only after several undignified moments did he notice the solemn gathering of knights in their circle.
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Post by karenee on Jun 1, 2005 8:41:18 GMT -5
He froze, waiting for them to speak. The sun had shifted in the sky when he finally realised they would not be moving. Limping a little on his twisted ankle, he studied the stone figures. How had they come to be here?
"Are these the Knights of Ni?" He muttered to himself. He was certain they had once been living beings, every intricate fold of the complex armor was there, fine edged and perfect.
Shuddering, he obeyed the pointing knight on his shoulder and soon discovered he was following an overgrown path along the side of a stream. It occurred to him that he had not yet eaten since leaving the lady. Why was he not more hungry?
The water lured him and he decided to wash his clothes and himself. Tucking his pack into the roots of a tree, he stripped, left his boots on the bank and dove into a deep pool.
In the chill of the water he studied his body in amazement. When had his hands grown so large? His legs, too, were those of a grown man and not the boy he had been only the day before. Had it been the day before? How long had he been with the lady?
He felt his chin and chuckled to himself when he felt the thick layer of curling beard. In this, at least, he was very like his father, but how old was he now?
Puzzled, he finished scrubbing his clothing and spread them out on the bank. These were definitely larger, and far more suited for travel than the clothing he had worn from the castle. Heavy breeches, sturdy tunic and the leather vest he was now scraping the mud from.
Sprawling in the warmth of the sun, he luxurated in a sense of well-being. After drowsing for a time, he opened his pack to make inventory of what he would find there. Perhaps there would be some explanation of his strange growth within.
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Post by pink3elephant on Jun 1, 2005 11:50:15 GMT -5
(I tried to follow this story, but I seriously can't follow it or keep track of whos who and whats what. . . oh well. . . )
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Post by Child of Immanuel on Jun 1, 2005 14:20:05 GMT -5
Lying wakeful on the cold floor, he saw a glimmer of warm, rippling gold. He rose and followed it. Wild hope rippled through him. Outside, Aslan was breathing his sweet breath on the stone knights.
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Post by karenee on Jun 4, 2005 8:15:47 GMT -5
Remembering his dream, Ian hesitated. Of course, it was just an excerpt of another of NaNa's books, but it had been far better than the nightmares which had been plaguing him.
Dressing in his now-dry clothes, he examined the pile of items he had dumped from the pack. He had never seen any of them before: small leaf-wrapped wafers, an ornate key, a small pan and spoon, rope, and a few packets of dried meat and fruit. He refilled the small water skin and slung the strap over his shoulder. Scooping his belongings back into the pouch, he nibbled on a wafer. Finding only a bite seemed to be enough to fill him, he rewrapped the rest and tucked it on top. As he straightened, he heard a rythmic marching sound back along the path he had followed. Tucking the herring blade in his belt, Ian turned to see what was going on.
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Post by cree8ivone on Jun 6, 2005 10:47:37 GMT -5
A sudden desire to get off the path seized him. His scar of the knight reinforced this fear with sharp stabbing pains. With his ankle protesting, Ian found a large oak tree well off the path and scrambled up.
Because of the branches and the leaves, he saw the reflection of the marching column in the pond where he had bathed first. The army marched down the trail escorted by several knights on horseback. Both the horses’ tack and the knights’ armor were so brilliant and shiny it was hard for Ian to maintain focus on them. The morning sun flared off the shields and helmets of the foot soldiers as well.
The soldiers marched four abreast and the knights rode two abreast. As hundreds of them marched passed Ian’s perch, he took note at how thin the column seemed as it made its way through the small forest path. Then he wondered why he even had that thought.
This shiny army was headed in the same direction Ian was been guided by his scar; south and east. He had another thought that maybe he would follow them (at a safe distance of course).
Then Ian heard someone shout and the column halted. Panic gripped him like a vice. Was he discovered? How would he get away this time?
From his vantage point he could see the line of soldiers stretching out to his right. He could see the reflection of some kind of ornate coach in the reflection of the pond. There were banners waving above the coach but he couldn’t figure out what they were in the reflection at this distance. Ian could also see the standing stone circle of knights above the pond.
Someone from the coach approached the circle and placed an object in the center. When that individual got back to the coach, the column started up again with another shout.
As they moved passed, Ian decided that when the army was gone he would see what they had left behind before following them. That’s when he saw the coach in all its splendor, banners waving proudly; the banners of the Wild Bluebird of Ekklsindorfia.
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