Hey peeps. Here it is, chapter three. I hope you enjoy it. PS. Last time I checked it, the Prologue had recieved 69 hits! Thankyou, kind peeps.
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I gulped as the ten masked men surrounded us. Two had daggers, the others had staffs. "Who are they?" I whispered to Jamon.
"Trouble," he replied, not taking his eyes off them.
"Can you take them?"
"Maybe. Probably not. When they come at us, break away and get help downstairs."
"Alright."
One of the men with a red mask, instead of black, spoke. "Go away, hag, we are after King Jamon, not you."
"No."
One of the men who carried a staff laughed. "You dare defy Rateye? We will kill you slowly for that."
"I think not."
Suddenly, the room was full of dark green magic -my magic. --Rise up, trees of the past.-- I said.
Before anyone of the men could say "By the Gods," their staffs started to club themselves on the head. The ones who dropped their staffs and made for the window found themselves tangled in oak branches which reached through the broken glass. Within seconds, eight of the men were lying unconcious on the floor, or struggling to break free of the branches.
While I was doing this, Jamon had lunged for the man with the red bandana and was fighting him with the dagger. We had both forgotten about the other man with a dagger, until he grabbed me from behind. "You think you're clever?" He had a high voice, "I have the Gift, and I can see you're not all you're cracked up to be."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. I had expended more magic than I could afford to lose.
The man didn't bother replying, just lunged for me with his dagger. Using the last reserve of my magic, I stretched the wooden floor apart. the man fell right into the chasm, landing right on a table of thieves drinking. "I'll get you for this," he hissed at me, then disappeared out the door.
Jamon walked over to me, after defeating his opponent. "Are ye alright?" he asked for the second time that night.
"What? Sure, just need to sleep." With those final words I sank to the floor in a faint.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I had a very strange dream.
I was walking along this beautiful plain, with many species of tree. Whenever I turned around, I saw all the trees withering and dying. Then I found this meadow and I hopped over the fence. But it was too high and I caught my foot on it. I fell to the ground on the dying side of the fence, and stood up. This time, I climbed over cautiously. When I made it, the dying trees started to come alive on the other side.
"I think she's comin' around," a voice somewhere above me said.
"Whe-" I cut off, my voice too dry to speak.
"Here, have some water."
I took a small sip, remembering the brandy.
"Where am I?" I asked.
"Yer in a healer's house, darlin'."
"A healers house?" Then everything came back to me, "Where's Jamon?"
"Recovering in the other room."
"Good," I siad, then fell back asleep.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Mari, are ye alright?" A concerned voice asked.
"Yeah, sure, never felt better." I sat up.
"Ye've been asleep for three days." Jamon said.
"Tut, tut, dear, she did use all of her magic." An elderly woman, with gray hair and the same brown hair as Jamon came into the room.
"Granmother! Mari, this is me Granmother."
"Hello, Mari." The woman said in her ancient voice.
"Hello, Granmother."
"Drink this. Trenta, my healer friend, brewed for you."
I drank it, and hoped my system wouldn't reject it. "Mari," Jamon said, taking my hand, "Thankyou for what ye did back there, I owe ye me life."
"Don't be silly."
"Yer right," he stood up, "Granmother and Trenta will take care of ye, I should g'back and talk to my loyal subjects. I'll come back to see you tomorrow."
He left and I went back to sleep.
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I gulped as the ten masked men surrounded us. Two had daggers, the others had staffs. "Who are they?" I whispered to Jamon.
"Trouble," he replied, not taking his eyes off them.
"Can you take them?"
"Maybe. Probably not. When they come at us, break away and get help downstairs."
"Alright."
One of the men with a red mask, instead of black, spoke. "Go away, hag, we are after King Jamon, not you."
"No."
One of the men who carried a staff laughed. "You dare defy Rateye? We will kill you slowly for that."
"I think not."
Suddenly, the room was full of dark green magic -my magic. --Rise up, trees of the past.-- I said.
Before anyone of the men could say "By the Gods," their staffs started to club themselves on the head. The ones who dropped their staffs and made for the window found themselves tangled in oak branches which reached through the broken glass. Within seconds, eight of the men were lying unconcious on the floor, or struggling to break free of the branches.
While I was doing this, Jamon had lunged for the man with the red bandana and was fighting him with the dagger. We had both forgotten about the other man with a dagger, until he grabbed me from behind. "You think you're clever?" He had a high voice, "I have the Gift, and I can see you're not all you're cracked up to be."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. I had expended more magic than I could afford to lose.
The man didn't bother replying, just lunged for me with his dagger. Using the last reserve of my magic, I stretched the wooden floor apart. the man fell right into the chasm, landing right on a table of thieves drinking. "I'll get you for this," he hissed at me, then disappeared out the door.
Jamon walked over to me, after defeating his opponent. "Are ye alright?" he asked for the second time that night.
"What? Sure, just need to sleep." With those final words I sank to the floor in a faint.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I had a very strange dream.
I was walking along this beautiful plain, with many species of tree. Whenever I turned around, I saw all the trees withering and dying. Then I found this meadow and I hopped over the fence. But it was too high and I caught my foot on it. I fell to the ground on the dying side of the fence, and stood up. This time, I climbed over cautiously. When I made it, the dying trees started to come alive on the other side.
"I think she's comin' around," a voice somewhere above me said.
"Whe-" I cut off, my voice too dry to speak.
"Here, have some water."
I took a small sip, remembering the brandy.
"Where am I?" I asked.
"Yer in a healer's house, darlin'."
"A healers house?" Then everything came back to me, "Where's Jamon?"
"Recovering in the other room."
"Good," I siad, then fell back asleep.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Mari, are ye alright?" A concerned voice asked.
"Yeah, sure, never felt better." I sat up.
"Ye've been asleep for three days." Jamon said.
"Tut, tut, dear, she did use all of her magic." An elderly woman, with gray hair and the same brown hair as Jamon came into the room.
"Granmother! Mari, this is me Granmother."
"Hello, Mari." The woman said in her ancient voice.
"Hello, Granmother."
"Drink this. Trenta, my healer friend, brewed for you."
I drank it, and hoped my system wouldn't reject it. "Mari," Jamon said, taking my hand, "Thankyou for what ye did back there, I owe ye me life."
"Don't be silly."
"Yer right," he stood up, "Granmother and Trenta will take care of ye, I should g'back and talk to my loyal subjects. I'll come back to see you tomorrow."
He left and I went back to sleep.