18

Kalyn Martinez

English 12, Period 6

Mr. Arnold

6 December 2013

Sci-Fi Writ.

Chapter 1: Believer

Sleep, sweet sleep, had overtaken me. After a difficult day, I was ready to leave reality, to believe in dreams. I was lying amongst a pile of blankets, seemingly peaceful. But something made me stir: a loud humming noise, undulating and pulsing through my very bones. Cautiously, I stood up and donned a jacket and some shoes. Thunderous clashes shook the door, and I shakily approached, turning the door-knob gingerly, as if it would burst aflame at any moment.

Chapter 2: Zed

I swung the door open and was blinded by a harsh light. I stumbled through the doorway, rubbing my aching eyes: all was quiet. Blinking, I turned in a circle, taking in my surroundings. I was in a desolate wasteland, no buildings (at least, no whole ones) stood by me, aside from the small hut that I had just exited. I frowned, confused and lost: Fires dotted the hillside, and it seemed that this new world was ravaged by some sort of war.

Suddenly, I was shoved forward, and I landed on my chest, the wind knocked out of me. Scared and panicked, I looked over my shoulder to see my attacker: It was a beast, with pasty skin, scarred and bleeding. It focused its sickly white eyes on me and shrieked horribly. I scrambled to get up, to flee, but it had me pinned on the ground so that I could not run. With a malicious laugh, it raised a blood-encrusted blade above its head, about to end my pathetic life. All I could do was watch, all sorts of questions flying through my mind as to what could have brought me to this hell-hole. As I shut my eyes, accepting my fate, I heard a vicious cry from my right. My eyes snapped open to see a beautiful sight: A warrior, clad in golden armor, was running towards the creature, a long-sword raised above his head. The monster turned its attention from me to face its new challenger, no emotions shown in its death-like face. The man hacked and slashed with a ferocity that I had never seen before, forcing the thing away from me. For a few moments the creature resisted, but the warrior's might was too much. With a final, ear-piercing shriek, the monster died as he plunged his sword into its chest. Bewildered, I watched with a slack mouth as he retrieved his blade and sheathed it on his back, turning to me with a crimson-stained face.

Chapter 3: M83

The man laughed mirthfully at my ridiculous expression, shrugging off the battle as if it were common-place (it seemed it was). He wiped his face with one hand then proffered his other down to me, helping me to my feet. He beamed earnestly with a child-like glint in his eye. "Hello, miss. Sorry for the trouble… those things are all over the place. Quite like rabbits, actually. My name is Alistair." I nodded dumbly and murmured my name to him, still a little dazed. His smile softened and he peered at me curiously: "You're not from these parts, are you?"

I shook my head, not answering the implied question: I did not know where I was from… did I?

"Well…" He continued, brushing a hand through his short, blonde hair, "In that case, I suppose I should welcome you to the country!" He grinned again, "Although, this hasn't been a pleasant welcome so far." He waved his hand and bowed graciously. "Please forgive the monster for its intrusion, dear lass; his manners are atrocious in public." This garnered a smile from me, and I chuckled at his antics as we began to walk away from the hut, with him chatting up a storm.

Thus, my journey began. We encountered many hardships on our travels across the country, not excluding the occasional horde of monsters. We swam through raging rivers, climbed the tallest mountains, and traversed the deepest jungles. All the while, he trained me in the art of war. He let me experiment with different weapons, and I soon found comfort in the art of two-handed combat. He drilled me relentlessly, and at times I got so frustrated that I felt like taking my chances alone in the wilderness. But through our troubles, we forged a bond so pure and genuine that my doubts were banished as quickly as they appeared. I often found myself smiling in his company, laughing at his sarcasm and making clever remarks in return. I was in such a joyous state, that I soon forgot about the mystery of how I had come to this country, or where I had even come from.

Chapter 4: Joy

On one particular day, when Alistair and I were taking a break from combat training and studying battle tactics, an arrow pierced the ground in front of our texts. The two of us jumped to our feet and drew our weapons, turning to where the arrow had come from. At first there was silence, and then an exotic-toned voice sounded from behind the tree-line: "Alistair! Is that really you, my friend? How did you come to be in this dreadful place with so beautiful a creature?"

I frowned, not appreciating the poke at my ego, and Alistair grimaced. From behind the trees emerged the source of the voice: A tall, lean elf, with platinum hair and an intricate tattoo above his eye. He smiled and saluted to Alistair and me. As he approached, I couldn't help but "admire" his toned physique, which clearly showed through his leather armor. I guess he noticed me looking, and he winked in my direction, making me flush crimson. He stopped in front of Alistair and grinned mischievously, bowing to me.

"Hello, my beautiful warrior. You may be thinking of some sultry things right now, but I can assure Alistair that I have no such intentions… for now."

I could literally feel the waves of fury emanating from Alistair.

"Zevran… watch your back. There are many worse things than a death at the hands of a monster that could happen to you."

I raised an eyebrow and glanced between this "Zevran" and Alistair, who already seemed to be acquainted. This would be interesting.

Chapter 5: Man-man

From that day onward, I felt like I was being dragged along by a travelling circus: The two men were at each other's throats, and never failed to argue with one another about the most trivial topics, such as who gets what ration, and who gets to keep watch at night. In the beginning, I thought that the little tiffs between them were entertaining, and they made me laugh quite a few times. I am guilty to admit that I may have encouraged quite a few of these arguments, but who could resist the opportunity for free, slap-stick comedy? Still, it almost seemed that they were trying to "out-man" each other in front of me.

One night, while we were eating dinner (which consisted of roasted rabbit and herbs), Zevran went to his pack and began to rummage around. Curious, I set down my meat on a wooden plate and watched, while Alistair stared into the campfire broodingly. Zevran glanced over at him with a smirk, and then whirled around with a small instrument in his hands to face me. I looked from his face to the instrument, a little skeptical about his musical talents. He shrugged innocently and strummed a chord.

"Do not judge me yet, my dear. Not before you hear my song!"

I watched attentively as he began to delicately pluck a song from the instrument's strings, waltzing to my side and sitting down. He casually leaned against my shoulder, purposely letting his hair brush against my skin. Goose-pimples rose up, and he beamed, his mission accomplished. He jumped up while I shook my head, rubbing my arms to get rid of them. He then cleared his throat and went into song. It was a silly tune about a maid who fell for a wandering merchant, and I clapped as he made faces and alternated his voice to match the different characters.

He eventually finished singing the song, but he continued to strum lightly, walking back over to me. I was wiping tears of joy from my eyes, and I didn't notice him kneel in front of me. The strumming stopped, and I opened my eyes, wondering why it had disappeared. Zevran was directly in front of my face. Before I could cry in protest, he lightly pressed his lips against my cheek and grinned. I blushed and smiled, standing up so that it wouldn't turn into something more serious. He didn't seem to notice my slight distress, and kept smiling. I nodded my head to him and Alistair, saying my goodnight. As I turned and began to walk to my tent, I heard Zevran murmur something about my figure, and a loud thud as Alistair struck him, knocking him to the ground. I hid a snicker and went to bed.