A/N: SRY it took so long to post. I've been sick, busy, stuff like that.
This is Simon telling the story.
~*zanuas917*~
I think Torlin enjoyed that stay with the elves more then I did. Yes, I had fun hearing stories from Slannen about when Grandpa came and traded with them. But, I just didn't enjoy the stay very much.
Hirten, the elf Torlin had grown extremely close to, had also given me a gift.
" To help you protect your sister at all costs," she muttered handing me a satchel that smelled like freshly picked roses, " Do not open the vial until Torlin is hurt and do not open the bag until you reach Amonta. It will not work if you do."
I slid the small leather pouch into the pocket of the borrowed Elvin clothing and promised her that I would not do those things.
The next day, as we rode away, I saw tears splattering down Torlin's clothing as she fingered the little pendant at her neck.
" I'll miss Hirten very much," she muttered to herself. I nodded in agreement, though I didn't really understand.
It took us three days to reach Bast, and four more days to finally get to Amonta.
We found a small, cheap inn and rested the rest of that day. It had been a week since we had left the elves, and I was itching to see what was in Hirten's bag.
Torlin left to shower, skipping down the hall. I didn't really understand why she was so happy about showering, but it didn't really matter at the time.
I pulled the small string on the sack and reached a shaking hand inside. My fingertips slid across something smooth and cold, sending shivers down my spine. I clutched the icy, smooth vial and slowly pulled it out of the bag.
The container wasn't made of glass as I thought it would be. It was pewter. Very smooth, gray pewter that took my breath away. And the bottle wasn't shaped like a vial, but instead a magnificent owl perched on a festering tree stump. The owl looked alive. Its polished eyes gleamed elatedly, and its feathers seemed to flutter in the unseen wind.
It was more of a statue then a vial. I shook it slightly. Sounds of liquid splashing against the sides of the pewter owl greeted my ears.
Discontentedly, I slid the owl back into its pouch. I thought maybe, maybe...
No, I didn't expect anything but silly things. That was the way I was. Exhilarating and unpredictable yet asinine and thick.
I slumped on the lumpy bed and closed my eyes for a moment. I didn't think, didn't see. I was only myself within myself, not connected with the outside world. Just in me, through me.
I heard someone coming in and shot up. Torlin blushed and clutched the fading towel closer around her petit frame.
I felt my cheeks getting hot and gave Torlin an apologetic look. She nodded, but still blushed.
I flung myself back again and squeezed my eyes shut. I stayed that way until Torlin prodded me with a hanger, fully dressed.
She smiled and I smiled back. She gave me a little kiss on the head, which I returned.
We both crawled into separate beds, which thankfully we were able to have and still keep the bill small, and fell asleep.
~*zanuas917*~
I think Torlin enjoyed that stay with the elves more then I did. Yes, I had fun hearing stories from Slannen about when Grandpa came and traded with them. But, I just didn't enjoy the stay very much.
Hirten, the elf Torlin had grown extremely close to, had also given me a gift.
" To help you protect your sister at all costs," she muttered handing me a satchel that smelled like freshly picked roses, " Do not open the vial until Torlin is hurt and do not open the bag until you reach Amonta. It will not work if you do."
I slid the small leather pouch into the pocket of the borrowed Elvin clothing and promised her that I would not do those things.
The next day, as we rode away, I saw tears splattering down Torlin's clothing as she fingered the little pendant at her neck.
" I'll miss Hirten very much," she muttered to herself. I nodded in agreement, though I didn't really understand.
It took us three days to reach Bast, and four more days to finally get to Amonta.
We found a small, cheap inn and rested the rest of that day. It had been a week since we had left the elves, and I was itching to see what was in Hirten's bag.
Torlin left to shower, skipping down the hall. I didn't really understand why she was so happy about showering, but it didn't really matter at the time.
I pulled the small string on the sack and reached a shaking hand inside. My fingertips slid across something smooth and cold, sending shivers down my spine. I clutched the icy, smooth vial and slowly pulled it out of the bag.
The container wasn't made of glass as I thought it would be. It was pewter. Very smooth, gray pewter that took my breath away. And the bottle wasn't shaped like a vial, but instead a magnificent owl perched on a festering tree stump. The owl looked alive. Its polished eyes gleamed elatedly, and its feathers seemed to flutter in the unseen wind.
It was more of a statue then a vial. I shook it slightly. Sounds of liquid splashing against the sides of the pewter owl greeted my ears.
Discontentedly, I slid the owl back into its pouch. I thought maybe, maybe...
No, I didn't expect anything but silly things. That was the way I was. Exhilarating and unpredictable yet asinine and thick.
I slumped on the lumpy bed and closed my eyes for a moment. I didn't think, didn't see. I was only myself within myself, not connected with the outside world. Just in me, through me.
I heard someone coming in and shot up. Torlin blushed and clutched the fading towel closer around her petit frame.
I felt my cheeks getting hot and gave Torlin an apologetic look. She nodded, but still blushed.
I flung myself back again and squeezed my eyes shut. I stayed that way until Torlin prodded me with a hanger, fully dressed.
She smiled and I smiled back. She gave me a little kiss on the head, which I returned.
We both crawled into separate beds, which thankfully we were able to have and still keep the bill small, and fell asleep.