Toz

             Toz paused before pounding his fist against the door. His former mentor, Galen’s, words rung in his ears.

            “Don’t go back there.” He’d said. “It’s been 14 years since they left you with me. They won’t even recognize you – much less except you back into their family.” Toz’s forehead creased in frustration but he shook the memory away. Galen was nothing but a senile, old sorcerer. What did he know aside from magic? He certainly knew nothing about family. Toz’s parents would be delighted to welcome him back. He rasped against the door with his knuckles before self-consciously patting down his golden-brown hair. There was the sound of many feet and a chorus of small, curious voices. Toz could hear a woman scold,

            “Hush up! Whoever it is won’t want to be bombarded all at once!” The door creaked open slowly and a disheveled woman with wispy brown hair and a red splotched face stood before Toz with a crowd of young children gathered around her skirt. Toz suddenly felt too tidy and shook his hair a little. The woman gazed up at Toz with a suspicious expression.

            “What do you want?” she asked, looking Toz up and down. Her eyes rested momentarily on the silver band on the index finger of Toz’s left hand.

            “Don’t you recognize me?” Toz asked, hopeful. The woman raised an eyebrow but didn’t reply. A small knot of regret formed in Toz’s stomach.

            “I’m Toz. I’m your son.” The woman’s expression changed to a look of surprised realization.

            “Toz! You must forgive me for not recognizing you! I mean – I haven’t seen you since you were a baby. Now look at you! Come in! Come!” The woman rushed Toz into the modest home. She brushed off a chair and sat him in it before pulling up one for herself. Toz counted six children altogether, scuttling about excitedly after their mother. They were all younger then him. Could they all really be his siblings? The youngest, a little girl with gray eyes, seemed to look right through Toz. The woman leaned forward, scrutinizing Toz. She seemed ready to interrogate him.

            “You're certainly doing well for yourself.” She pointed out, eyeing Toz’s nice clothes and again his ring. 

            Well, having a princess for a girlfriend hasn't hurt my pocket, Toz thought. He didn’t say this out loud though.

            “How has the sorcerer training been going?” the woman asked. Toz snorted lightly.

            “I’m not learning from Galen anymore. I’ve been traveling for the past couple years.”

            “Really?” the woman questioned, with a tone that didn’t seem as interested as it tried to be.

            “Yes,” Toz sighed, deciding he wouldn’t bore her with an account of his travels. “How have things been with you?” The woman laughed,

            “Well as you can see I’ve gained plenty of mouths to feed since you’ve been gone! May I ask, did you get that ring on your travels?”

            “No.” Toz practically moaned, annoyed that everyone always had to ask about the ring. “Galen gave it to me. It protects my mind from being invaded by magical beings, like other sorcerers and soul-seers.” The woman nodded.

            “Did you also get those clothes from Galen?”

            “No. I got these when I worked for the royal family.”

            “My son worked in the castle?” The woman exclaimed. “What did you do?” She leaned forward in her seat.

            “I was a jester.” Toz coughed. A jester. He could never get over how stereotypical and undignified a job that was for a sorcerer.

            “You certainly got paid well, didn’t you?”

            “I suppose.” Toz wished she would quit questioning his fortunes. So what if he had nice clothes and a silver ring? Wouldn’t she be just as happy if he’d shown up in rags? When she leaned back and sighed contentedly to herself that she had a rich son, he doubted it. Toz stood up to leave.

            “Where are you going? You’ve only just arrived?” the woman asked, standing as well.

            “I only wanted to stop by for a brief visit,” Toz lied. “I really need to be going now.”

            “But you’ll come back, right?” the woman asked, her voice edgy. Just then the girl with the gray eyes stumbled into Toz’s leg. She hugged him.

            “Daddy,” She sighed. Toz bent down and looked into her eyes. They stared back at him blankly.

            “Do I look like your daddy?” he asked softly.

            “Look?” The little girl’s face scrunched up in confusion and she giggled, “You’re silly daddy. I don't look. I hear!” Toz inhaled sharply. He closed the girl’s eyelids with his fingers and she giggled again at the strange action.

            “Do you like flowers?” Toz asked.

            “They smell pretty.” The girl sighed at the pleasant thought.

            “They look pretty too.” Toz informed her.

            “But I don't look!” the girl exclaimed indignantly.

            “Are you sure?” Toz asked as he allowed her to open her eyelids. She squinted drastically.

            “It hurts!” she complained. The woman gasped,

            “She can see! You healed her!” But Toz was already out the door and on his way down the road.

Melenia's Dream

          "Father?" Brant questioned, dismounting his horse.
          "Yes?" King Regan answered.
          "We traveled for a week to look at a river?"
          They had traveled nearly nonstop for an entire week with a regiment of soldiers, all who were now off of their horses and gazing over the massive river before them. Some of them joked around by spitting and kicking dirt into the water. The Saphir River was legendary for its purity.
          "Of course not, Brant," the king replied, dismounting his horse as well. "We've come here to watch a much more glorious sight."
          "And you still won't tell me what it is?" Brant asked, skeptically.
          "That's why it's a surprise," the king said, chuckling. "You'll like it, son. Trust me."

***

          Brant lay in his tent, boredly tossing a flame in his hand. He had a tent to himself, unlike most of the regiment. Not only that, but his tent was entirely decorated in red and gold, with a woven carpet, and pillows and sheets of silk. Brant leaned against a couple of these pillows now, wishing he could be at home, training for the magmaball tournament. His team was the first co-ed team in the league - a political statement his father hadn't entirely agreed with, but his sister, Almira, had for once supported him in. They had to do well in order to prove that co-ed teams could work and that women could hold their own against men both physically and magically. Brant was also the youngest member of a magmaball team in league history. It was a lot of pressure.

          But, Brant was used to dealing with pressure. He'd grown up in the public eye. He knew how to handle it.

          Brant heard a soldier walking around quietly, right outside of his tent. He was irritated. He hoped the soldier hadn't come to tell him his father needed him for something, or to come see whatever it was that was such a great surprise.

          Links of ice formed around Brant's ankles and elbows, chaining him to the ground. That wasn't a soldier. A fire elf one, anyway.

          Brant tried to break away in vain, the flame in his hand disappearing. Then, he tried to yell but with the first sound he made, his saliva froze too, locking his jaw into a helpless, open position.

          The opening of his tent rustled and a river elf girl entered silently. She glared at Brant, her eyes the cold blue of the ice she'd used and her skin like night.

          "Don't scream, or I'll freeze your blood next," the girl hissed. The ice in Brant's mouth returned to liquid. 

          "Why are you and your men here?" the girl asked.

          "I have no better idea than you," Brant answered, spitting out the remaining shards of ice.

          "Don't lie," the girl said sternly. "I can tell when someone's lying."

          "Well, clearly not, because I'm telling the truth," Brant said, smartly. The girl looked at him hard, then turned away in frustration. 

          "Yes, I can see that." The girl sighed and looked hard at Brant again. "Then tell me what you do know."
          "I'm eighteen and hate fish, which is probably what we'll be eating most of the time we're here. I might take my horse back to the forest and do a bit of hunting," Brant said. The girl glared at him.
          "Tell me what you know about why you're here."
          "Nothing."
          "You're hiding something."
          "Even if you know that, what are you going to do about it?" Brant said. He instantly melted the ice binding him, and rushed at the girl. He could have escaped earlier, but he always found it more useful to let the enemy think they were in power for a bit. But this girl was still in control. She was quicker than Brant had anticipated, and dodged him.
          The girl pulled water out of what seemed to be nowhere. Brant breathed and his throat chaffed at the dryness of the air. He readied flames in his hands.
          Then a buzzing noise filled the air. It deafened Brant and the girl, and they dropped their weapons and covered their ears. The whole tent was vibrating with the sound. Simple, constant buzzing.
          Gradually the buzzing noise grew further away.
          "What was that?" the girl asked frantically. She was staring at Brant with horror. He just stared back.
          "Brant!" King Regan called from outside of the tent. Brant, without thinking, rushed out of the tent and into his father before the king could enter and find the river elf girl.
          "You're excited," the king commented suspiciously.
          "What is it, father?" Brant sighed.
          "Come with me," the king said. "All the men are at the riverbank." King Regan led the way and Brant ignored the subtle movement at the entrance to his tent as he walked away.
          All the men were at the riverbank. Many stood around anxiously, staring out over the water. Some moved about nervously and a few looked sick. The king was glowing with excitement. The men parted to allow Brant and his father to stand in the front.
          "Listen," the king said. There was still a slight buzzing, off in the distance - then silence. It stayed silent for about a minute. Then there were screams.
          Terrible screams traveled across the water, loud enough that it sounded like the river itself were wailing. There was darkness on the other side of the river and it seemed to seethe and writhe with a power of its own. Brant's eyes widened with realization.
          "Dark fairies?" He turned to his father, his voice cracking on each word. King Regan smiled widely. Brant felt bile rise in his throat.
          There was a splash from further down the river and a torrent of water propelled through towards the other side.
          "A river elf!" Some of the men yelled. They reached for their bows to shoot her in the water, but she was gone too quickly. Brant hoped she didn't make it across in  time. There was no way she would survive. But maybe she preferred that to watching her people die.
          Brant puked into the Saphir River. He wasn't the only one, but more blood polluted the ancient, pure waters than vomit that night.

Bad Omen

          Melenia listened. She heard crickets playing their nighttime orchestra. She heard an owl and a frog, singing in low tones. She heard the growing rustle of every breeze and the liquid movements of the river. She couldn't sleep.
          "Aiken?" she whispered, hoping he was still awake. He was laying with Caleb curled up beside him. Caleb was a cat tonight, black with white spots. Aiken rolled over slowly, away from Caleb.
          "Hm?"
          "I can't sleep," Melenia said, sitting up and leaning against a tree.
          "Why?" Aiken asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
          "It's really loud."
          "It's always loud!" Aiken said. "It's never bothered you before. You're used to these sounds."
          "Not tonight. They stand out tonight."
          Aiken propped himself up on his elbow. "Something else is bothering you. Go ahead and tell me so we can sleep."
          Melenia pulled her knees close. "That dream I had the other night... it was too real. I've never even met a river elf before. They all had blue eyes and they didn't blink - they just lay there - bloody and vacant - "
          Aiken touched Melenia's arm.
          "It was a dream. We'll be at their village in a couple of days and you'll see that they're fine."
          "But - "
          "It was a nightmare. Do you believe me? There's no way the Dark Queen could send an attack like that without the river elves finding out about it. They would have been better prepared. They couldn't have been massacred like that."
          Melenia sighed. "When you say it, it makes sense - but I still don't feel right about that dream."
          Aiken thought for a minute.
          "Go look at the stars," he said, finally. "Violet taught you how to read the sky, right? See if there's any ill omen."
          Melenia stood up. She stepped onto her shadow, materializing it beneath her and allowing it to lift her slowly above the treetops. She looked up at the sky. She couldn't see any stars, nor the moon. The sky was a black mass. Her heart tightened and she descended.

Bone Meets Angel

          Bone tiptoed into the quiet house, silently shutting the door behind him. The house was dark and neat and motionless. He was the only conscious presence, the only movement and breath in the thick loneliness. He loved it that way.
          He poked around a bit, looking for the kitchen. Then, he stopped. Silverware was hit or miss. Some people had the really nice stuff you could sell for a good price and other people didn't. Bedrooms were where the best stuff usually was. Antique jewelry, expensive watches, small electronics - all easy to carry and easy to pawn. Bone turned around and headed for the stairs.
          There was sound upstairs. Light breathing and occasional snorts told Bone which closed doors were bedrooms. He carefully turned the knob to one, peeking inside. A girl was asleep in a large bed, her blonde hair plumed over her pillow. Her mouth was slightly open and a tiny trickle of drool ran down her cheek to her pillow. On the wall behind her bed, the word "Angel" arched over her in blue letters. Bone shook his head, holding in a chuckle.
          He went first to her dresser. On top of it there was scattered jewelry, lip gloss, a hair brush and a hand mirror. Bone picked through the jewelry, leaving the ones that were clearly worthless and pocketing the things that had promise. Bone glanced in the hand mirror and saw the girl standing behind him, with a scowl and a large textbook raised over him.
          Bone twisted around quickly and managed to dodge the textbook, but the girl dropped it, deciding her fists were more useful. Now, Bone was a spectacular thief. He had a flawless record of breaking into the most tightly sealed houses, stealing the best stuff and never getting caught. He'd never had to fend for himself in a break-in or run away before now - which had been an extremely good thing because there was no way he could win a fight. He was thirteen, short, scrawny and pale. Every item of clothing managed to be too big on him and he had chronic raccoon eyes due to his insomnia. When messing around with his brothers, Rat and Pierce, he always lost. Now, he was up against a really angry girl that was taller than him and judging by her muscle tone, worked out.
          The girl had Bone pinned to the wall in about two seconds.
          "You have till the count of three to come up with a good explanation or I'm calling the cops!"
          "We'repoorandneedthemoneyandmysister'sblindandmybrother'sgirlfriendmightbepregnant andwecan'tafforddiapersandnewclothesandstuffontopofeverythingelse!"
          The girl raised an eyebrow, looking Bone up and down. Then her eyes widened and her grip on him tightened.
          "You're a darkling," she said with wonder. "I didn't notice your clothes before because it's so dark. I thought you were just some idiot on a dare or something."
          "No, I'm just an idiot that should have thought of that first," Bone replied, trembling. The girl shook her head, laughing.
          "You'd never pass for a pureling. I would have noticed anyway, as soon as I paid attention to what you were wearing."
          Bone was in fact wearing a black hoodie - a hand-me-down from Pierce, with sleeves completely ripped to shreds - a pair of jeans, cut at the bottom and held up by a tattered belt because it was far too big for Bone, and a dingy, stained T-shirt, though the girl couldn't see that. A pureling would never be caught dead in worn or re-used clothing - as proven by the girl's perfectly fitted silk pajamas.
          Bone wondered why the girl hadn't called the police yet. And why she wasn't scared. Not that he was intimidating or anything - clearly she was the one in power - but most purelings were terrified of darklings. That's why they'd built a whole wall to separate the purelings and the darklings - as if just living in close proximity to darklings might tarnish the riches and luxury of the purelings.
          "Now, what was all that you said was your excuse for stealing my stuff? I barely caught half of it," the girl questioned. Bone sighed. He might as well, clearly his only hope of getting out of here was in pleasing this girl long enough till her grip on him loosened enough for him to make a dash for it.
          "Well, we don't have a lot of money - clearly - and we need to steal in order to survive. My sister, who is blind, just moved in with us because Ma died and now Blade, my brother's girlfriend, thinks she's pregnant and we can't afford a baby on top of everything else."
          "That's quite a sob story you have there," the girl snorted.
          "It's true," Bone said, glaring. The girl didn't look convinced. Bone hated that. The only time people ever doubted him was when he told the truth. He should have lied to the stupid girl.
          Then she let go of him.
          Before he even had time to realize she'd done so, Bone took off. He ran down the steps and out the door, hopping over the porch railing and sprinting down the street.
          The girl didn't pursue him, locked the front door and went to sleep without calling the cops.

Arranged Marraige

          Brant punched the air, blasts of fire flying from his fists. They hit against the training dummy, leaving scorch marks on its chest.
          "You're training really hard," Adelaide commented, her head resting on her fist. She sat on the black, rock bleachers on the side of the training room. "Is there a game coming up?"
          "There's always a game coming up," Brant huffed, keeping the fiery punches going.
          "Well, when is the next one?"
          "In three days," Brant answered. Adelaide sighed and sunk her chin in between both of her palms.
          "Well, I won't be hearing from you for three days then, will I?"
          Brant stopped and looked at her.
          "What do you mean? I'm right here. We're talking, aren't we?"
          "No," Adelaide said, shaking her head in her hands. "We're not." Brant dropped his head in defeat.
          "What do you want to do, then? Should we go somewhere else? What do you want to talk about?"
          "Brant, you're going to need to be fully ready for the game. Go ahead and keep practicing, we can talk another day." Adelaide stood up and brushed off her dress.
          "No, it's not a big deal. I'll go change and we can go somewhere else," Brant protested.
          Adelaide stared at him hard.
          "Do you really want to?" she asked. "Or are you just trying because if you don't you won't be fulfilling your duties to your kingdom?"
          Brant couldn't answer. Adelaide headed for the exit and stopped there, turning around.
          "I'm sorry, Brant. I'm in a mood today. Forget what I said. I hope you guys win."

A Wrinkle in Time

          Yesterday I started re-reading Madeleine L'Engle's "A Wrinkle in Time". I forgot how much I loved that book. I read it a few years ago, so now reading it again, I more easily notice its flaws, but most of them are stylistic and merely my opinion. The book feels somewhat rushed to me, especially in the progression of relationships, like the one between Meg and Calvin. The two quickly become friends and something more - not quite lovers, but romantic - shortly after meeting. However, I suspect that L'Engle didn't accidentally make the relationship so easy. It seems stylistic to me. I think that L'Engle may have been trying to get across a point about soul mates, or just relationships that are meant to be. Calvin and Meg's relationship moves quickly out of a natural ease, rather than an impatience, which makes me believe that there is a connection between them that was already there, even if it can't be explained.
         Also, I think my favorite thing about "A Wrinkle in Time" is the perspective Madeleine L'Engle gives. Not necessarily Meg's perspective, but the way the book makes the reader look at the world. That's what I like most about it. It makes me look at the world in a more supernatural way, recognizing the things I can't understand and accepting that just because I don't understand them doesn't mean they don't have explanations. This is a point that is stated outright, I believe by Meg's mother, early in the book. It's a freeing truth that allows my imagination to fly in a way that it hasn't in too long.
          I look forward to finishing the book soon and finding out what happens to Meg's father (I don't remember, I read the book too long ago).

Pilot

          I'm a writer and lately I've been neglecting my writer's notebook. I've kept one for years, and have filled up numerous physical notebooks, but lately I haven't been using my current one like I should. Part of the problem is that I keep losing it, so I've decided to make a blog instead. I'm changing things up, which I think is what I really need, and it's harder to lose a blog than a notebook.
          So, forgive the sporadic nature of my posts. They will be sporadic and random in every way: frequency, length and subject matter. But, bare with me. I'm sure it won't be that bad.