EDIT: Two words can describe how the rewrites are going. Plot. Changes. And major ones at that. New readers, you guys won't have any problems (hopefully). Old ones, prepare for much higher quality, more side plots, and more interesting characters. Below are a few things to keep in mind:
Time: Directly after the Malistaire plot line, so yes, this is original. The main char will also be 16-17 in this story, and the only reason I mention that is because it's quite a change from my original, so until ALL revisions are done, this will be confusing.
Things To Know: My stories are in the same universe as Firestorm Nauralagos's unless otherwise stated, so Alex and all of her characters are by all means canon in this story as well. Alex herself may or may not have an appearance in the future - that I'm still debating - but for anyone confused just know there'll be quite a few mentions of her. (We currently have a colab together on her profile if you want to check it out)
All chapters that have been revised will be listed at the end of the prologue. Now, enough of my rambling, ENJOY!
Prologue
The cold wind blew.
Lightning reflected in the young girl's bright green eyes.
I could feel myself shiver.
The rain blew against her pale face.
I couldn't breathe.
A wail sounded.
I knew it was only a matter of time.
Two little girls crouched together, eyes wide as they stared at the chaos that unfolded.
I wouldn't give in.
The green gazed one wrapped her cloak tightly around them.
I couldn't give in.
The flashing green eyes…the only color in the storm.
Lives were at stake.
The eyes closed as she held the young ones.
Time. Time. Time.
She wrapped the cloak around tighter.
It was so cold.
Lightning struck the surface.
So dark.
The little girls shrieked in terror, and the green gazed one instinctively pulled them closer.
Time. Time. Time.
The green gazed one gripped the two girl's arms, pulling them with her.
It was all a matter of time.
She ran, stumbling as she tried to keep her balance.
I was weak.
The green eyes made it to a small hollow of a tree.
Tired.
With the young girls in her arms, the eyes closed once more in a weary slumber.
We were rescued.
Two people with staffs picked them up and disappeared with the wind.
Nothing was the same since.
When the green-gazed one opened her eyes she felt suddenly warm, tucked comfortably under the covers of a bed.
We were at a school, a wizard school.
They stared at the faces that surrounded them, an elder man speaking to them. "Little ones, welcome to your new home…"
"Who are you?" I asked, speaking to no one in particular as I stared wide eyed around the room. Wasn't I just in a storm? Shouldn't I be dead? I felt my breathing grow unsteady. Everything was so unfamiliar. I glanced over at the two beds beside me, spotting the two girls I had helped during the storm. Were they dead too?
"A-are we dead?" I managed to squeak out, pulling the covers over my mouth. That had to be it. I was dead, and so were those little girls. Panic stirred in my mind, but before I could do or say anything, the three other people in the room simply looked at each other and smirked.
"No no my dear, far from it!" The old man said, a friendly smile forming on his lips. He had a long white beard that looked a lot like a cloud, and crystal blue eyes. He wore funny looking purple robes with stars and moons on it and had a tall, once-pointy hat. He immediately had a friendly air about him. Next to him was a pretty woman with hair the color of autumn leaves and small, round glasses and garbed in all green. She seemed friendly too, but the tall man beside her broke that friendly line. He, in comparison to the lady, was in all black, had stark white skin, and his hair was thin, long, and black. I shrunk even further into my blankets. He looked far from friendly...
"My name is Merle Ambrose," the old man spoke again, his smile still in place. "And you're in the Ravenwood School of Magical Arts. I'm the Headmaster."
Ravenwood...the name sparked something in my mind, but before I could recall what it was, the lady was talking. "My name is Sylvia Drake." She sang, flashing me a toothy grin. "I'm the Life professor here. This here is my husband Malistaire. He's the Death professor." The man garbed in all black simply dipped his head in greeting. Sylvia, seeing my discomfort, leaned over to whisper in my ear. "He's not as bad as he looks; I wouldn't have married him if he were." Winking she stood back up and kissed her husband on the cheek. He looked slightly embarrassed, but a small smile formed nonetheless as he returned the kiss. I relaxed a little. If Sylvia liked him, I could too.
"Merle and I found you unconscious during the storm inside the hollow of a tree." Malistaire began to speak. His voice was like his features had suggested; cold and deep, but not unfriendly I decided. "What were you doing outside in that weather?"
I didn't respond for a long time, averting my gaze from the three adults as I tried to think. It wasn't that I didn't know, but would they still accept me if I told them?
"I ran away from home..." I finally managed to say, gripping my blankets and keeping my head down. It wasn't something I was proud of, and they wouldn't be proud either, that much was for certain.
"Well...we'll worry about the details later." Ambrose said after a moment, giving his head a quick shake. Sylvia gave a little shrug and went over to the two younger girls, running an expert eye over them. I assumed she was looking for any injuries.
"Are you all related?" She asked, running a hand through the paler girls snow white hair. I shook my head.
"I found them in the storm, and they needed help." I explained, sitting up and grimacing at the pain in my back. I reached my hand over my shoulder and ran my fingers along my shoulder blades, feeling two very thin lines. I twisted myself to run my hand over my lower back. I was surprised to find that they ran the entire length of my back.
"You took care of them during the duration of the storm?" Malistaire asked, both praise and surprise evident in his voice as he took a seat at the end of my bed, his wand laying comfortably on his lap. Sylvia trotted over to me and examined my back, pulling my cloak and dress low enough to examine the lines. She muttered something about bruises before running a cold hand down one of them. I shrugged her off and nodded to Malistaire, noticing him waiting for me to answer. I glanced at the still-sleeping girls. They were really young, younger than me, and I half-wondered how I could've possibly dragged them to the tree.
"How rude of us!" Ambrose suddenly chirped, causing me to flinch and look back at the elderly man. He had his fist in his hand as if he had just realized something. "What's your name, little one?"
"Heather Shadowsword." I told him somewhat awkwardly. The only who seemed to recognize the last name was Malistaire, a small smile curling the corners of his lips, but thankfully he didn't say anything. "I'm seven years old, Avalon born-and-bred."
Everyone let out a little chuckle at my formality, and I blushed a little, pulling my blankets back up over my face. Sylvia gave my leg a gentle pat. "No worries hun! We lack polite children these days." She winked at me for the second time that day. Suddenly her green eyes lit up with realization and excitement. She turned to regard her husband with a broad smile, who raised an eyebrow inquiringly.
"Sylvia if you're even considering of adopting another child-"
"Of course not silly!" Sylvia laughed, grabbing her husband by the ears and kissing his forehead. I stuck my tongue out in disgust. Kissing was so gross... "But Cyrus still needs a child to tend to..." She winked at him. Malistaire's eyes widened, and I cocked my head curiously. Cyrus?
"I don't know Sylvia, Cyrus isn't exactly...fond of kids." Malistaire rubbed his chin as he looked up at his wife. "I doubt he'd take her."
"Nonsense!" Both Sylvia and Ambrose exclaimed in unison. Sylvia gave a little chuckle and laid down beside me, leaf-colored eyes twinkling. "She's already proper and disciplined, and he loves that in kids. Means he won't have to do it himself." Her broad, toothy smile widened in excitement, and for a moment I feared her cheeks would start to rip open at how wide her smile was.
"And I do recall you two making a deal in my house when you two had come back from Azteca a long while ago." Ambrose added, his eyes holding the same light as Sylvia's. "You guys said that if one were to have a child, then the other must do the same. It was back when you both had a little a little crush going on." He chuckled silently as Malistaire's pale face suddenly turned a bright flush of red, though whether it was because he was embarrassed or angry, I couldn't be sure. Sylvia clapped her hands excitedly.
"That's perfect! We can finally have a full-on family!" She chirped as she suddenly grabbed my arms and dragged me out of bed. As Sylvia started to drag me over to the door I glanced back at the two other girls.
"What about them?" I asked, pointing at the white and black haired duo. Ambrose waved a hand dismissively.
"Don't worry yourself; I know a few wizards with older siblings and such who'd love some extra company. Maybe when you're all well enough you can stay the night at each others' houses, hmm?" I smiled and nodded, allowing Sylvia to drag me through the door. Malistaire followed though didn't bother to catch up until Sylvia had slowed down a bit.
"Who is Cyrus?" I asked, tearing my ruined cloak off and flinging it over one arm in what my parents had called a "dignified" manner. Malistaire gave an approving nod before responding.
"He's my twin brother and the Myth professor here. He's not especially fond of children, but seeing as you're well-mannered, I don't think you'll have any problems." I nodded though silently I thought Cyrus wouldn't be much of a father. Then again, Malistaire didn't seem to be a nice individual at first.
"Swell guy once you get on his good side." Sylvia agreed, resting a hand on my shoulder and smiling down at me. "They've always had this rivalry though. Who could do better, who was stronger, who could get a lady first..." she looked at Malistaire and winked at that one. The Necromancer opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted when I let out a short gasp, and the shock wasn't from her statement.
We were outside now, and the entire area was nothing but grass, flowers, and trees. On the far side of the area was a small, crystal clear pond where wizards of all kinds gathered. Unconsciously I reached over and grabbed Malistaire's hand, eyes wide as I spotted the mass of people. A strong surge of energy made me flinch as soon as I touched him. It didn't hurt, but it was odd, like putting a finger between two magnets that were pushing each other away.
Malistaire also felt it. He was staring at me curiously and looked to have a new appreciation for me, although, I had no clue as to why. He glanced over at Sylvia, and noticing the glint in his eyes a look of complete surprise entered her eyes, but she shook the feeling away and led on. I continued to hold Malistaire's hand - the odd feeling had gone now - until we had reached what Sylvia had said to be the Shopping District.
"He likes to stay close to the businesses so he doesn't have to walk all the way here." She said with a smirk before dancing happily down the street. Malistaire stared after her with a loving glint in his eyes before following. I quickly bolted to his side. When we managed to catch up with the ecstatic Life professor, she was knocking loudly on a door. The house was located at the end of the street, and as Sylvia had said, it was quite close to all the major stores.
The man who opened the door was indeed Malistaire's twin. He was tall and lanky, and while a lighter blue in color, his eyes held the same cold sternness as his brother's. The only things that were different were his yellow and blue robes and his complete lack of hair.
"I don't believe I sent an invitation." Cyrus commented, his voice almost smug as he crossed his arms. He raised an eyebrow inquiringly when he spotted me, and I instinctively shrunk back. Sylvia nudged me forward, not roughly, but enough to make me stand beside her in front of him. She rested an encouraging hand on my shoulder.
"This is Heather Shadowsword." She introduced me, and being called upon by my parent's teachings, I curtsied in greeting. "She's one of the girls Malistaire and Ambrose found in the storm on Avalon." Cyrus looked at me curiously, then with a jerk of the head he invited us into his home. I followed Sylvia in and hesitantly took a seat beside her on the couch, inspecting my surroundings. The walls were made of silver-grey stone with myth-insignia wallpaper rimming the top. A few dark blue rugs complimented the light red couch. The only other things to decorate the room were a few chairs, and light wood coffee table, and in front of the window was a small dining table, a single chair resting at its side.
"So what all happened during the storm?" Cyrus asked, sitting down at the dining table. Malistaire looked over at me, and as if making a split-second decision, he glanced at his wife.
"How about you go get Heather some new clothes while I tell Cyrus about the rescue?" Sylvia must've known what he meant because she was quickly back out of her seat. I was tempted to stay seated for a short while, but knowing my manners, I quickly sat up and followed Sylvia back out the door. Besides, I did need new clothes; my velvet red dress was torn in several places, the loose pieces of fabric rubbing against my legs.
"What are your favorite colors Heather?" Sylvia asked as we walked out into the street. I tapped my chin with a finger, thinking.
"Black and light blue at the moment." I decided. While green was a close second, there wasn't a lot of blue at my old home, and it was a pretty color. Sylvia smiled and nodded, indicating to a small shop to the side of us.
"That's the dye shop right there. Darla does a good job at re-dyeing clothes for a low enough price, depending on the outfit. Magically inclined stuff that help in battle are often more difficult to dye, or so she says." She explained. "It'll be another four years before you'll be joining the school, so that's no concern right now." I nodded absently, absorbed in my thoughts of the school, and together we made our down the street, this time turning to enter through a different tunnel.
"And this is Olde Town, where all the oldies live." Giggling silently to herself at her own joke, Sylvia waved a hand over, indicating me to follow her. She was making her way toward a fairly large building with a sign that said "BAZAAR" in front of it. Inside there was a bunch of bustling students trying to find good gear, many of which were surrounding a big - if not a bit chubby - man who had an assortment of weapons slung across him. As we made our way over to him, a few wizards said a friendly hello to Sylvia. I guessed they were her students, but they were all in different colors, so I couldn't be sure. I wish wizards would remain true to their school and dye to the school colors. It'd be a lot easier to judge then.
"Hello Elik!" Sylvia called cheerily. The man looked up, and a warm smile formed on his face.
"Sylvia!" He greeted, gently pushing past the scavenging wizards. "How can I help you today? Here for another pretty pink bow for old Malistaire?"
Sylvia giggled and shook her head. "Not this time, Elik. Heather here needs some new clothes. You've heard of the storm in Avalon by now right? She's one of the survivors." Elik glanced around her and smiled down at me.
"She's a small one, but there might be something out back for her. The Ferrow kid is here too; maybe I can suit the two of you up with something special." He waggled a finger at us and we followed him through the back door. Inside there were piles of clothes of all types, weapons hanging on the walls and a tan-skinned little redhead.
"'Bout time Elik!" She commented smugly, tapping her foot and wagging a finger at him. "I need new clothes!"
"Alright alright!" Elik chuckled. He was obviously used to the young girls antics by now. Sylvia knelt beside me, her breath tickling my ear.
"Fallon Rosebud Ferrow is a bit on the...wild side...she has a reputation for getting under people's noses and causing trouble." She whispered to me. I glanced at the red head. Her eyes were a bright aqua blue and her hair was a long, natural-looking red. It curled at the ends. She definitely had an air of defiance about her as she glared at Elik's back. When she glanced around she spotted me, and her eyes widened in surprise.
"Hi!" She chirped as she bolted over to me. "Who are you newcomer? I've never seen you before; I would've remembered those eyes."
"I'm Heather Shadowsword." I introduced myself, doing an inch-perfect curtsey. Unlike the adults who'd respected my politeness, Fallon simply scowled.
"I hope you're not one of those snobby rich kids who don't know how to have fun." She sniffed contemptibly. As I tired to come up with a response, Fallon shrugged her shoulders and continued on. "Eh, we can change that. First step: change of name."
I glanced up at Sylvia, who shrugged. I guessed that this was how Fallon normally was. I turned back to her. "Why do I need to change my name?"
"Cause Heather sounds so stuck up and formal." She sniffed. "My full name is Fallon Rosebud Ferrow, but Rosie sounds better, dontcha think?" I nodded. While I liked the name Fallon, I didn't want to argue. It would've led to a full-blown fight. Fallon - or Rosie - tapped her finger to her chin, making a low 'hmmm' sound as she thought.
"I know!" Her head snapped up, a pleased smile on her face. "You can be called Heat!"
"Heat?"
"Short for Heather. Ya know, 'Heat-her'."
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I had the chance Elik was back, two different outfits slung across his arm. One consisted of a red and light blue hoodie shirt and light blue tights, the other a small black dress with neon blue buttons going along the front. Small pockets rested close to the top with the same style, only the colors were reversed.
"I'm not permitted to give you wizards clothing, not until you join the school, but these should suit you for now." Elik smiled, handing me the dress and Rosie the shirt. I ran my had down the length of it, feeling the soft fabric. I immediately fell in love with it. Sylvia was clapping her hands excitedly.
"You'll look adorable in that!" She chirped. Sylvia reached into her pocket and pulled out a few pieces of gold, holding it out to the merchant, but he shook his head.
"No no Sylvia, its on the house. My treat!" Elik bellowed, pushing his glasses up as it slid down his chubby nose. Sylvia smiled, delighted, before ushering me out of the room. Rosie, sparing a glance at Elik, quickly followed. I guessed she didn't want to pay for her new found outfit. She was still following us by the time we entered the Shopping District.
"Where do you live Heat?" She asked a she jogged up to my side. It took me a moment to realize she was talking to me; the whole 'Heat' thing was going to get some getting used to. I glanced up at Sylvia, unsure how to answer. Seeing my dilemma, she glanced down at the red-head.
"Right now I'm in the process of trying to get Mr. Cyrus Drake to adopt her." She explained. "But before that she lived in Avalon." Rosie's blue eyes opened wide in surprise and she turned back to me, prodding me for an answer.
"You one of the storm survivors?" She asked. I nodded, and I was surprised as an envious light entered her eyes.
"Lucky," she whined, beginning to stomp her feet as we continued on. "Going on adventures like that and you're not even a wizard yet!"
I didn't have time to reply as Sylvia opened the door to Cyrus's. When we walked in the twin brothers were both sitting at the dining table talking in hushed voices. As I strained my ears to listen, Sylvia ushered us upstairs. Rosie shot her a nasty glance, but the Life professor paid no attention, so the red-head continued on silently. As I picked my way up the first couple of steps I heard Malistaire's muttering. I managed to pick up the words "...she'll be a powerful Necromancer...".
When we were up in the room though I completely forgot that statement. Instead I tore off my old dress and slung the cloak on a nearby bed. The dress fit me perfectly, and while I wasn't used to showing my legs, especially in public, it was comfortable. I glanced over at Rosie as she examined herself in the mirror. The shirt was a little too big, the sleeves falling off her shoulders, but even so it still looked good on her, the neon blue bringing out the color of her eyes. She gave a nod of approval and slumped onto the bed. She glanced over at me and sniffed.
"Heat do something about your hair, it looks all...nasty."
Sylvia had already grabbed a brush and started running it through my hair. While the creamy-gold locks were thin, there was a lot if it, and Sylvia's mutterings reminded me a lot of when my parents would try to fix my hair.
"There," she murmured, running an expert hand through my hair to triple-check for any remaining knots. I glanced at myself in the mirror. Again I wasn't used to having my hair down, always having it up in a bun, but now that it hung loosely I was surprised to find it was long enough to scrape the top of my bottom. Rosie was sniggering beside me.
"Didn't your parents ever give you a haircut?" She asked, playing with a handful of my hair. I shook my head. There was never any reason for them to cut my hair as long as it wold hold in a bun. Rosie's mouth dropped open, but before she could come up with a proper response, an outraged voice from below caught everyone's attention. Sylvia sighed and stood up, smoothing her skirt out.
"Looks like Malistaire finally told Cyrus the good news." She said. Taking a deep, shaky breath I followed her, my hands folded behind my back. I heard Rosie's footsteps falling in beside me.
"Maybe it is good you're all goody-two-shoes then." She muttered in my ear. "Cyrus's known for hating 'immature brats'."
"Such as yourself?" I dared to ask, making sure my voice held some sort of sarcasm. She smiled wickedly and nodded, a little giggle escaping her thin lips.
When we reached the main room I was surprised to see no one looked outraged. Malistaire and Cyrus were simply out of their chairs, arms crossed and glaring at each other with cold eyes.
"They must've brought the argument down to chuchoters." Sylvia muttered quietly more to herself than to me. She quickly skipped up to Malistaire and wrapped her arms around him. "Now now boys, lets all just calm down."
Her tone of voice suggested this wasn't the first time the twins had gone off like this. I glanced over at Rosie, who nodded, confirming my suspicions. Frowning I sat up straighter, cringing at the pain in my back, and folded my arms more tightly behind me. I wasn't sure if I'd have a home if Cyrus didn't take me; I had to be on my best behavior. I could almost hear my father's voice telling me that.
Sylvia's soothing words seemed to be enough to calm the brothers down. They slowly moved themselves to the living area, Cyrus settling down in a chair and Malistaire in the couch in front of him. Sylvia sighed in relief and motioned for me and Rosie to sit beside her on the couch. I settled myself in between her and my new friend, folding my hands on my lap.
"Malistaire," Cyrus began. "I know you mean well, but I'm not so sure I can take care of this...child. Besides, I'm busy enough as it is. I simply wouldn't have time for her."
"Nonsense!" Malistaire retorted, his voice calm but cold. "Sylvia and I adopted a child, and we've plenty time for her."
"Besides," Sylvia added, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Didn't the pair of you, oh, I don't know, make a deal about raising children together?" Both of the brothers visibly winced, turning different shades of red. I guessed that whatever made them make the deal was enough to embarrass them for the rest of their lives. Apparently, the memory of that deal was enough for Cyrus at least for the time being. He turned to me, hands clasped together in over his mouth.
"What's your name, child?"
"Heather Shadowsword." I answered promptly. I barely caught Malistaire's knowing grunt as he recognized the last name. Cyrus also seemed to recognize the name, a flare of interest sparking in his eyes, but it faded within a second.
"Alright then Heather-" Cyrus's next question was interrupted by an annoyed snort from Rosie. The tan-skinned redhead was tapping her foot on the ground in annoyance, a pout on her face. Cyrus raised an eyebrow at her.
"Something you need?" He asked. Rosie's smug voice was almost a match for his own.
"Yeah, actually, there is. Call her Heat. She likes it better." She pouted, blue eyes sparkling dangerously, the threat of a destroyed house hidden in their depths. All eyes turned to me, and unsure how to respond, I meekly nodded my head.
"Well then, uh, Heat," Cyrus wrinkled his nose in distaste of the name, but apparently Rosie's threats were meant to be taken seriously. I cast a quick glance at my friend; she had a sly smile on her face. "Have you had any prior education, and if so, where?"
"I wasn't permitted to go to a public school," I answered. "But my parents, being authors, weren't ones to hark back on education. They taught me everything they knew about history and had me study profusely on expanding my vocabulary and learning other dialects. I'm currently fluent in four different languages, two of them being Ancient Celestian and Aztecan languages."
Sylvia and Malistaire looked impressed enough, and Rosie had her mouth hanging open in shock, although it was hard to tell if she had any idea what I said or not. I loathed having to talk and prove about my higher education; it felt foreign on my tongue. I frowned as I remembered studying almost nonstop all day when most normal kids would be playing. Being the daughter of two well-known, rich authors wasn't normal. To my dismay, Cyrus hardly looked impressed.
"What do you know about the Magical Schools of Wizardry?" was his next question. I harked back on my studies.
"I know most of their histories, the main points at least, and I know their proper names." I told him, struggling to remember the Giants and the Titans. The magics were never pressured on me by my parents, so I hardly paid attention when I did study. Thankfully I remembered the major points of each school as well as the proper names. Seeing Cyrus wasn't fully convinced, I continued. "The elemental schools are Pyromancy, Thaugmaturgey, and Divination, or Fire, Ice, and Storm. The spiritual schools are Necromancy, Theurgy, and Conjuration, also known as Death, Life, and Myth."
"Not bad." Cyrus conceded as he leaned back in the chair. "I just have one more question."
I began to dig into my mind for whatever studies might be of some use, but there was no need. "What were you doing in the storm?"
Just like when Malistaire had asked, I found myself waiting a long while, trying to find a good response. There was no doubt in my mind he wouldn't accept me if I told him I ran away from home simply because I was upset with my parents, but against my will to lie, I told him anyways.
"I ran away. I wasn't happy with my parents always arguing and making choices for me." I looked down at my lap, breaking eye contact for the first time. "Just because I'm educated doesn't mean I like it."
I knew that sounded odd, especially when almost everyone in the room was a professor, but before anything else could be said, there was a loud knock, followed by someone yelling "newsletter". Malistaire, who was closest to door, grunted and got up, but there was no need. There was another knock, and the door opened to reveal Ambrose, a warm, grandfatherly smile on his face.
"I just wanted to see how everyone was getting along." He chirped. The Headmaster handed Malistaire the newsletter, who grunted his thanks and sat back down, before pulling out something that was far more interesting to me; a long, curved sword. "This was slung across your back when we found you Heather."
"Heat..." Rosie muttered, speaking for the first time since Cyrus had begun interrogating me. I ignored her and stood up, taking the sword from him. The simple dark red hilt was familiar enough, but I wanted to be sure. I unsheathed it, and gave a sigh of relief as I noticed the black Ancient Celestian markings at the bottom of the fine silver blade. Everyone's eyes widened in surprise.
"How'd you get that?" Rosie gasped, running over to me, eyes wide as she stared at the blade.
"My parents kept it for decoration." I explained, sheathing it once again. "They never paid attention to it, but it was always my favorite back in the mansion. I guess you could say I wanted a little...payback..." Rosie smirked, a wide grin spanning from cheek to cheek.
"Maybe you aren't so goody-two-shoes after all."
"What did the engraving say?" Sylvia asked, cocking her head curiously at the weapon. I paused. I never really paid attention to the engraving before. I pulled the blade out just enough to read it.
"It says 'The Last Reaping'." I murmured. Malistaire grunted and shook his head.
"The Last Reaping is one of the most important battles in Necromancy history." He sniffed. "That sword must have been wielded by the leader of the army, Captain Deadlock. A shame such a powerful weapon was used merely used for decoration." I found myself nodding in agreement. While I wasn't fully aware of the battle, Captain Deadlock was always an inspiration to many wizards and almost changed the stereotypical judgement about Necromancers. Almost.
Cyrus and Sylvia came over and they each took a turn looking at the blade, running their fingers along the smooth silver. Ambrose looked at me with a friendly glint in his eyes, resting a hand on my shoulder. "I think you just managed to save a priceless and powerful weapon from wasting away." He smirked. An annoyed snort from Malistaire caught everyone's attention.
"What is it hun?" Sylvia asked, coming over to look over her husbands shoulder.
"Their calling the storm at Avalon the Lightning Gaze legend." He muttered, showing the newsletter to Sylvia. "Too many people argued that such a storm couldn't have possibly existed, especially in Avalon." He was shaking his head in shame, obviously losing hope for the Spiral's inhabitants.
"There used to be storms all the time on Avalon." Ambrose agreed, frowning for the first time since I met him. "I wonder why they're calling it the Lightning Gaze?"
Sylvia gave a little chuckle as she looked at me. "I think I know why."
All eyes turned to me, and noticing how confused I looked Sylvia pulled out a small mirror and gave it to me. I let out a shocked gasp as I saw how bright my eyes were. They were always a really pretty, very bright green, but now they were almost luminescent, shining in a way I didn't know was even possible.
"Maybe it's from all the close encounters with lightning...?" I thought, accidentally murmuring the words aloud. Everyone chuckled, even Cyrus, at the preposterous idea. This time with no blanket to hid myself, I felt hot as my cheeks turned a bright cherry red. Rosie smirked and gave me a pat on the back, then motioned for me to follow her outside. I glanced at Sylvia. She nodded and together the three of us made our way out. As I turned to close the door, I saw Malistaire address his brother.
"Well? What do you think?" He asked. Cyrus turned around to glance at me from where I was peeking through the door.
"I think I can work with her."
That's when I knew I had to be home before nightfall.
Also, just as a little note, the writing does get better as the story progresses. The first revisions are a bit sloppy (though still better than the original chapters) but now that I know what I'm doing things will be a lot more detailed and rather interesting. And I suck at humor, so anything "funny" is probably really stupid. Sorry Dx
Ohyeah, and Heat is quite the little Mary-Sue in this story. Go ahead and give me crap for it, I'll flat-out agree with you, but rest assured I WILL change this in the future. I have something in mind to hopefully fix her Suedom. Right now though it's a bit too late for me to change the character, otherwise I'd have to completely rework the story, and I don't got time for that.
Currently revised chapters:
Prologue
Chapter 1: Clean-Up
Chapter 2: Nightmares, The Quest Begins
Chapter 3: Storm Telling
Chapter 4: Temperamental
Chapter 5: Storming Again
Chapter 6: Dark Clouds
Chapter 7: Letters to Cyrus: Letter One
Chapter 8: Forgiving
Chapter 9: Ominous Greetings
Chapter 10: Growing Older
Chapter 11: Maniacal Laughter
Chapter 12: Finding the Recipe
chapter 13: Reporting...to the Ravenwood Ball?
Chapter 14: Lessons in Memories
Chapter 15: Future Plans
Chapter 16: Surprises at the Party