A/N: I don't like many of you.
Only Saberpaw.
And if you don't review, I'll stop updating! In order to avoid this, I MUST have two reviews for this chapter at LEAST.
Chapter 14:
"Bigga rabbitworm, wakeywakey upupup!" Ffindle groaned in his sleep, turning over in his warm covers.
"Whad d'ya wan?" his slurred speech only caused the creature a spurt of agitation, of which it used to rip the covers off.
"Verilyverily 'portant messyage froma sandymouseworm inna woodnest where held 'gainstwill."
"Who's th' 'sandy mouse?' "
"Issa sandymouseworm bynamea of Sandinuial."
"Sandunal!" Ffindle burst out of bed, causing the sparrow-for that is what it was-to launch off with a surprised chirp, followed by a steady chatter of curses.
"Rabbitworma stinkyworm! Nuthin' worsa-sapt for woodnest notmuch like! Sharalla Sharpinwing getta………."
The commotion brought Merrick into the room. "Ffindle, what is that?" he asked, pointing at the small cream/black/brown streak whizzing around, uttering shrill chirps, some words strung together.
"A sparrow, sir."
The Abbot looked surprised for a monment, and then murmured something inaudible.
"What's that y'say, wot?"
"Until the fast talker comes. That's the sparrow! The sparrow is the fast talker!" he cried out. "In the time of Matthias, when he was still young, Queen-oh, why didn't I pay better attention in dibbun history-I think it was Warbeak, was felled by an arrow, and she and Matthias, quite a while later, mind you, when he was prisoner of the Sparra king, King Bull or something became friends. The sparra were quite the quick talkers………"
Ffindle caught on immediately. The bird had talked rapidly, making it hard for the hare to follow it's words. …the fast talker comes……he was right! And most of all it came from Sandunal.
Sandunal. He sure missed those runs with her, and the pie-pinching that they sometimes did.
The Abbot's voice interrupted his thoughts. "We need to tell the abbey creatures about this at breakfast, you know. And," Merrick looked up at the slowing blur, and raised his voice. "Give our guest some food. I think he-or she- is hungry after a long, exhausting journey completed."
The blur screeched to a halt, as the bird stopped. "Wormfood?" it asked hopfully. Now Ffindle could see the outline of ribs against it's chest.
"Yes. You are quite welcome at breakfast, you know." Merrick evolved into the traditional Abbot again; plain, courteous, and hospitable. Not the excited elder that he was before. He turned to leave.
"Thankyou, mouseworm." Sharalla looked at him closely. "Isyou leadermouse?" Merrick jerked his head around quickly.
"You mean the Abbot? For Abbot I am."
The sparrow nodded it's head. "Yesa, yesa, thenyoube one I looklook for, wellasthe hareworm creature."
"Please share your message later. I must go alert Friar Thune. Hopefully, he will be in a good mood." With that, he turned and left.
Ffindle stared at the sparrow, then asked a question. "What gender are you? I'm not sure."
The sparrow trilled a call, and then answered. "Ibe female. Anyting elseyou wanto ask?"
He then asked the question that he had wanted to ask from almost the very beginning;
"Where is Sandunal?"
---
Martin was breathing heavy with exhaustion, from sending the mouse-Garren-to where he had died. Where his body lay. For there was almost not other choice. See, if Garren was struck down by the blade of Trentilis-he would be resigned to the Ever Burning Flames. By Mariel-Either to the In-Between regions or to the world of the living. As much as his friends would rejoice, he would be near-immortal. He would lose almost everything-he would not keep his youth. And he would have a life of never-ending pain and hopelessness. Unless killed by air.
That was nearly impossible, but if some deadly poison got into the atmosphere, he would die a painless death. Luckily.
Which was why he used the rarely-ever-used portal to put Garren back into the world of the living. And the portal could only be conjured by a council member with his/her Wall-Stone.
The Wall-Stone was a curious thing, changing colors every three seasons or so, for some odd, strange reason. It fit neatly inside of its' owners' paw, no matter what. These Wall-Stones, thought to be the stones in the Wall surrounding the Dark Forest, were found in a cave deep under the roots of the First Tree.
Somehow, for a reason nobeast could explain, the First Tree knew when a new council member had arrived, for, when Martin, and all the others came, there would be a stone of iridescent colors that could fit neatly inside of the owner's paws. And, stranger still, it would be right outside of the cave entrance.
Many of the younger council members said that there was no connection between the arrival of a council member and the making of the stone. But the Elders of the Council believed this to be so. Martin didn't know which one to believe.
True, when he had arrived, a smooth stone, like a pommel one, fit neatly inside of his paw clenched up.
But still; which one to believe? The younger group? Or the older one?
A roar of fury brought Martin back into reality. Blinking in alarm, he saw Mariel. There was something odd about her. Yet, it was familiar.
And then it hit him. For many times, he had been a victim to it. Many times, he had seen a victim to it.
The bloodwrath.
The curse of all warriors.
And of all warriors, feasting upon Mariel's energy.
Just what they needed.
Martin buried his head in both paws, but then put them back.
She would fight even fiercer than ever. Hopefully.
---
Mariel had no control over her actions. None whatsoever. She attacked blindly, Biting and clawing ruthlessly. Trentilis was surprised, and in the process, stumbled backward, whimpering softly. While doing so, a small dagger, about twice the size of one of his long, curling claws, dislodged itself from his fur where it was neatly tucked away.
The blade was painted white, and the hilt covered with his fur, as to hide it. An astonished silence filled both the arena and the audience watching.
Lord Brocktree stood. "Why did you have that? 'Tis against the rules to do so." He growled lowly.
Trentilis did not answer, and picked up the small dagger. He held it in the center of his paw, as if weighing it. And then, he grasped it between two paw-fingers and threw the dagger.
Straight at a certain warrior.
---
Rose, on the council, usually didn't interfere. But it was she who saw where the Wolverine's eyes had flickered a split second before he threw it, and she had seen where they were aimed.
She couldn't lose that beast.
No, she couldn't.
So Rose, quiet, yet perilous Rose, screamed at the target.
"MARTIN!"
He glanced up, the scream all-too familiar. His eyes, sharpened after seasons of being on the council and in the Dark Forest, saw the well launched missle.
Quickly, he dropped down on his stomach, avoiding the miniature dagger, and enabling him to see the scene happening below.
While everybeast was looking at him, Mariel included, Trentilis had advanced on her. And in one, swift movement, he grabbed her by the neck, and lifted her into the air.
His grip was so tight, that she couldn't utter a noise. Even though she could breath.
"Listen. You are coming down with me. I don't care if it's for a million seasons; you're coming down with me."
Martin saw it all.
He saw Mariel being throttled.
He saw everything.
He saw it.
And he yelled.
"TRENTILIS, PUT HER DOWN!" he roared at the wolverine. But eerily-strangly, and grimly, the wolverine smiled back
"I'm not, Warrior. I want her. I-" he stopped, and started to back into the ever-burning fires.
And stopped.
"You've won, Martin, though there are quite a few in my cells that mutter your name indignatly."
"Huh?"
"You've won. And Martin, if this mousemaid doesn't come with me, all is gone.
"I need her."
---
Nauru felt his hopes sink back into it's case deep within himself. Garren wasn't alive. He was just……temporarily back for some odd, strange reason.
He sighed. He should've known that it was too good to be true. Nothing this good could happen anymore-it was the life of a slave.
Yet that stupid, stupid ember of hope still burned in his chest. He didn't know why. But then, two lines of a poem came back to him, written by his mother.
Hope is found in warriors.
Hope is found in slaves.
That was the reason. And then, foggy and dusty, another line came into view in his mind's eye;
Without hope, there would be nothing.
Nauru knew then, after years of racking his mind for a reason that his hope bloomed, that that one line was the whole reason that hope was there.
---
Soon, when the sun began to climb out of bed to reign, only Emerald was awake, stone still, waiting patiently for the sun to take the reins of the chariot called time.
She always stayed up to see the sun set, or woke early to see the sun rise. She didn't know why.
The camp seemed peaceful, serene, and as the sun rose, she noticed that the air was a bit hotter than yesterday was.
Summer was coming.
One of them needed to esacape. While asleep, that…..voice came into a dream of swirling mist, saying;
ONE MUST FLEE,
FROM THE CAMP,
THE OTHERS STAY BEHIND.
WHEN SUMMER COMES AGAIN.
It was pretty clear, and short. Well, almost.
And a few hours later, when the sun had a full grasp on its throne, a messenger came into the tent, requesting her presence for the Lord of the Diablo.
She went.
And when she got there, she saw something that was quite strange.
It was-
---
A vixen had come into their prison, requesting at once to see Rosilla, or as she called her, the 'blind one'.
Sandunal supposed that this was 'Jareth'. After all, she was coming to see Rosilla. But when she asked her, the vixen just laughed.
"No, no, mi madre be the one you sa lookin' for. She be Jareth. I be Disiean. Madre tella me to goan see 'ow ba' it be. An' it be very, very ba'."
After that, Disiean left them alone. Their only source of light was the small crack in the wall, which the sparrow named 'Sharalla Sharpinwing', who had escaped through that crack. There were lighted candles, though.
An older vixen came in, older than the first. She carried with her a small, wooden chest with a dagger for chopping up leaves, not all that sharp.
"Che viene vedere il mouse cieco che Dobane mi ha trasmesso alla cura."
Sandunal blinked. This was strange. Why was everybeast talking this way?
The vixen noticed her confusion, and switched to English.
"I am coming to see that blind mouse that Dobane had told me to cure."
"You mean Rosilla?"
"Yes."
The vixen got to work quickly, cutting up herbs and applying them to Rosilla's shut eyes.
"What is that prophecy that this Dobane mentioned?"
Quietly, the vixen murmured, "Not now. Later, when Blind One is awake."
Sandunal said no more.
---
A/N: Sorry that it was so short, but my sibling is sleeping downstairs and is complaining that he wants to go to sleep. And I just, in one day, wrote about six pages. SIX PAGES! There are nine pages in all.
BYE! And REVIEW!