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Old 01-26-2006, 11:00 PM   #1
Inwe Ringil
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Default Dragonapprentice

This is the revised edtion of my first chapter. Please reveiw!!!!!


“Brrr . . .” muttered Domitan as he fed the animals. It was the middle of winter and was bitter cold.
Domitan lived with his mother’s family; Uncle Berlan, Aunt Elryia, and cousin Beria. They lived at the foot of the Plaeti Mountains, about twenty miles northwest of Anaga, a small fishing village.
Domitan walked into the house and stomped the snow of his boots. He looked up and saw Beria stifling her laughter. Domitan glared at Beria and said, “Today was YOUR turn, Beria. I fed the animals yesterday and today!”
“You’re a man and men are supposed to have more endurance, b*****d.” laughed Beria scornfully.
“None of that.” snapped Elryia, as she prepared the evening meal.
“But, mother, father says that’s what Dom is. And if Dom wasn’t his sister’s son, he would have killed Dom after Berliona died.” argued Beria.
“Well, go talk to your father about Domitan being and illegitimate.” Elryia snapped angrily.
“Father’s not here.” Beria said belligerently.
Elryia took a deep breath, calmed herself, “Your father is in the master bedroom, resting after his trip to Anaga.”
Beria flounced out of the room.
Domitan sat down by the fire warming his hands. Then someone knocked at the door. “Domitan, can you get the door?” asked Elryia.
Domitan opened the door. “Hallo, my name is Grife. I was hoping I could spend the rest of the winter here, before traveling home.” said Grife.
“Come in.” said Domitan. Grife sat down at the table.
“Aunt, this is Grife. Should I get Uncle Berlan?” asked Domitan warily, because they rarely got a visitor from Anaga, but never a stranger.
“Yes.” answered Elryia.
Domitan cast Grife a suspicious look as he left the room; he was met by a beaming smile.
The master bedroom was down the hall. Domitan pushed the door open. Berlan lay asleep, with his left forearm covering his eyes. Domitan crept closer, poked Berlan’s arm and jumped back. Berlan could have a nasty temper if you woke him up. Domitan tapped Berlan again, this time he rolled over, looked Domitan full in the face and asked, “What do you want?”
Domitan squirmed uncomfortably; he feared that Berlan was angry. “Well, Dom?” Berlan said loudly.
“A man is here asking to stay until spring comes.” said Domitan.
Berlan rolled out of bed, pulled his boots on, and left the room followed by Domitan.
When they entered the kitchen, Grife was idly staring out the window. “Anything out there besides snow?” Berlan asked as he sat down. Domitan sat on a tall three-legged stool.
“Nope, nothin’.”
“Who are you and why are you here?” Berlan asked, cutting straight to the chase.
“I’m Grife Madonal of the Swytchlin Forest. I seek shelter for the upcoming weeks, for my beast and me.
“You haven’t answered my question. Why are you here?”
Grife looked a bit taken back but quickly smoothed it over. “I was doing the job I was sent to do. Make sure the Slagurs aren’t botherin’ anybody. I didn’t think I’d take this long, which is why I left my apprentice behind.”
“I haven’t seen a Slagur in my life, so, they haven’t been bugging us.”
“Good.” Grife said leaning back in his chair.
“I’ll allow you to stay, as long as you abide by the rules.”
“Which are?” Grife prompted.
“No language, no wandering around without anyone knowing where you are. You have to help with the chores, and other such things.” Berlan said.
Grife nodded his affirmative, “Okay.”
Domitan had watched the entire exchange with growing interest. Grife seemed totally relaxed at first sight, but if you looked closely, you could tell he was really tense. Grife had earlobe length gray hair, dark purple eyes that seemed very vague. Grife had an aura of wisdom, but Domitan could tell that he was probably in his late twenties, denoting to his boyish face, and closely clipped beard.
Berlan went back to sleep. Domitan starred into the flames, slowly he slipped into one of his daydreams. He was fighting the Slagurs. He was defeating every single one that came at him. The ground was slick with blood, Domitan slipped, one of the enemy took this advantage to hit him on the head. He fell to his knees and was about to thrust his blade into the offending Slagur’s midsection . . . Then Domitan heard Grife saying something to him.
“Boy, boy?!”
Domitan looked up and saw Grife looking at him with concern. Why is he looking at me like that and why do I have a headache? “Yes?”
“Boy, I want you to help me care for my animal.” said Grife gruffly, but kindly. Domitan got up and followed Grife out into the white yard.
Domitan looked around the windblown yard and in seeing no animal asked, “Where’s your beast?”
“Over there in a small glen.” Grife said as he pointed toward the beginning of the forest. They were about halfway across the empty vegetable garden when Grife asked, “What’s your name?”
“Domitan, son of Berliona.” Domitan answered dully.
“Berliona? That’s a woman’s name.” said Grife in a startled tone.
“Yes, son of Berliona, that’s my name. ‘Cause nobody knows who my father is.” said Domitan, trying to keep the beginnings of anger out of his voice. He was irritated because the boys of Anaga scorned him, because he couldn’t recite his family tree five generations back on both sides.
“Hey!” said Grife, holding his hands up. “I’m not judgin’. I never knew who my mother was when I was a kid.” Domitan didn’t answer.
They reached the glen. Domitan saw a huge deep purple Dragon. The swirling snow only enhanced the Dragon’s beauty, it arched it’s neck gracefully and fixed a vibrant silver eye on Grife.
“Y-y-you’re a Dragonrider.” Domitan stammered. Domitan had heard of the Dragonriders, but in this isolated region, they were all but a myth.
“Yes,” said Grife. “Your fool of an uncle didn’t see my Marks.
Domitan didn’t say anything; he was too enraptured by the Dragon in front of him. “Her name is Cynthi, it means royal.” said Grife proudly.
Domitan starred at Cynthi. Her scales, he noticed, were the exact same color as Grife’s eyes and Marks. She had a crown of silver spines on her head.
Domitan and Grife put Cynthi in the large barn and bedded her down. The farm animals were in the small barn so they would be warmer.

After the dinner of potato and beef stew, they were all sitting around the fireplace. “Father, tell us a story.” Beria pleaded.
“Why don’t we have our guest tell us a story?” Berlan suggested, looking pointedly at Grife. “Yes.” Beria squealed.
“No, no. I’m not good with telling stories.” Grife protested. “Please.” Beria said flashing her dimples at him.
“Alright.” Grife finally consented, “How about the story of the Dragonriders beginning.”

“When Charl was king of Galen he went on a sea voyage. He was the only king ever to be interested in ships. When he set out on the voyage, he left his brother, Carl, in charge. He was gone for a good three years. Even his wife began to give up hope. Then suddenly his ship with thirty of his forty men with him. He never spoke of what had happened during those three years. What happened in those years was a son. His ship was in bad shape when they finally reached land. This land was not Galen, it was called I’lune, and was ruled by the Druids who worshiped the Great Quez, a Dragon. Charl despaired, he looked at the ship at it looked beyond repair. His first mate, his youngest brother, Nike, suggested that Charl take twenty men and explore the land while the other twenty stayed behind to fix the ship. Charl took up residence in a small town called Claegon. Here he married a woman named Malishia. Two years later, she was pregnant. A few days before the birth, he received news from Nike that the ship was ready. He promised he would return.”
“He did not return. His I’luneian wife gave birth to his first son, she named his Eirias, great flame. He looked exactly like his father, just like every other Galenian man’s first son. When he was eight weeks old and Charl still hadn’t returned, she took him to be trained under the High Druid, Troke.”
“Charl returned home to his kingdom and wife Alyss. He showed no desire to return to the sea. However, one day fourteen years after he had returned, he went and gathered the men that had returned with him and asked them if they would return to I’lune with him, they all did.”
“A few weeks before Charl set out, his son Eirias was accepted into the Druid order. As was customary, each Druid went on a trip to find his destiny. Eirias’s was to return to his father’s land. When Eirias found Malishia, she told him that his father was one of the dark men from beyond the sea and that he should go to Bilan, the dock city. Eirias had gathered the ten dark men that had stayed behind and their families. They camped outside of Bilan, ten men, ten women, and about fifty squalling children were not welcome in Bilan. Especially since the men were dark and didn’t have golden hair and blue eyes, like all the I’luneians. They worked for weeks on a ship to go to Galen. Then one-day Charl’s ship sailed into the harbor. The men their first sons and Eirias went to greet the ship. Charl jumped of the ship, he saw his ten men their ten sons and an extra who was leading them. He wore the brown and silver cloths of a Druid. Charl found out that his men and their families wished to go to Galen. They were spurned in I’lune, the woman had breeded with the seamen, and it was an atrocity to marry someone who wasn’t of I’lune.”
“They all returned with Charl. Charl found out that Eirias was his son. When they were going up the Capital River a large, brown, Dragon flew over them breathing flame. Eirias was amazed; he was told that all the Dragons were gone from the world. The men panicked, they quickly beached the ship, jumped off, and ran for cover.
Remember, only dead fish swim with the stream
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Old 01-26-2006, 11:03 PM   #2
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This is part two of Chapter one.

Eirias reached out to the Dragon and talked to it through mind speech; he had been trained in it since he was three. With that simple gesture of kindness toward the Dragon, he became the first Dragonrider. Then he understood his destiny, he was to train these men of Dragons and their ways. Every year he would take one to three boys that his Dragon, Smitti, declared that they could become a Dragonrider.”
“Since that day on, Dragonriders have been training Dragonapprentices. Eirias wore a symbol around his neck, was a silver maple leaf, all Dragonriders have worn one. Dragonapprentices wear one of bronze.”

With that Grife’s story was done. “Is it true?” Domitan ventured to ask.
“Of course its true, as far as we know. In the library’s its in the legends section, but it belongs in history.” Grife said quietly. After a few minutes, Grife said he was going to bed. Grife was sharing Domitan’s room; Domitan was going to sleep on the floor until he made himself a bed.

The next morning Domitan and Grife were up before dawn. Domitan, for the first time in months, only did his chores. Grife did Beria’s. Domitan liked the arrangement, except for the fact that Beria didn’t do anything.
When Elryia called that breakfast was ready, they went in. Breakfast was porridge, Domitan hated porridge.
“Berlan, Domitan and I are going to Anaga so I can get some things of mine fixed.” Grife said. Berlan grunted his assent.
Domitan finished his chores and went of into the woods. He hated going to Anaga, but Grife had invited him to join him. I have to go. He swiftly unbraided his hair, and ran his fingers through his black, loosely curled hair. He braided it into the Seaman’s braid, better known as the Outcast’s braid. Mountain men and women wore their hair long, and it was in their clan braid. Domitan didn’t wear his hair as long as every one else did, his was cut a few inches below the shoulders.
I wonder what it would be like to be at the Capital River? He had asked Grife what it looked like. Grife had said that the first half was surrounded by hills and the rest was like a blue ribbon winding through the Great Plains. Domitan couldn’t imagine what it would be like without the mountains dominating the landscape.
Domitan was pulled from his musings by Berlan’s hand on his shoulder. Domitan turned to face him. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been spending a lot of time with the stranger.” Berlan said.
“Yah, so?”
“Just be careful. I gave him shelter because he needed it. But we don’t know anything about him.”
“I’ll be careful.” Domitan promised even though he trusted Grife completely.

On the way to Anaga, Domitan contemplated how he would deal with Seti and his cretins. He also thought of Berlan’s warning, did Berlan know that Grife was not a normal person?
There is no such thing as normal people. This thought surprised Domitan. Such a concept meant that Berlan and Beria weren’t normal, common people, as he had always thought them.

When they entered Anaga, it was nearing dusk. Domitan heard Seti’s high voice called out, “It’s our friend Domitan No Name.” Seti appeared from around the corner of the ‘Broken Boat’, flanked by his cronies. Seti’s pale green eyes sparkled maliciously, that was until he saw Grife. He took one look at Grife’s sword, knife, and long scar running from his temple to his square chin; and fled.
They made their way to the blacksmiths. Domitan enjoyed the heat and slipped his leather gloves off. Grife didn’t seem to even notice the warmth.
Grife reverently removed his sword from the scabbard. He pointed out a deep notch on the blade. “Yer not from aroun’ ‘ere are ya.” Jonn asked as stoked the fire.
“No.” Grife said in a tone that didn’t allow any conversation.
Domitan looked at Grife’s sword. He could tell that it was the same metal as Berlan’s butcher knife, but his sword seemed to have a deep purple tint to it.
After the blacksmiths, Domitan led the way to Jack Tanner who was, ironically, the tanner. Grife bought a bottle of leather oil.
When they emerged from the tanners, Grife looked at the sky, where stars were beginning to show. Grife sighed, “It’s too late to even start back.”
“Antha’s parents will let us stay at their place.”
“Who’s Antha?” Grife asked with his eyebrows raised.
“A friend.” Domitan said simply.
Domitan led them to a house on the edge of town near the woods. Domitan knocked and the door was answered by a girl with dirt brown hair and piercing blue eyes that flew into glee when she saw Domitan.
“Dommi!” the girl shrieked as she threw her arms around his neck. The look Domitan cast Grife was one of extreme embarrassment, his eyes were saying ‘Help me!’.
“It’s nice to see you, too, Antha.” Domitan said in a strangled voice. Antha stopped hugging him and stepped back.
“I didn’t think I’d see you until next summer.” Antha laughed. She grabbed Domitan’s hand and dragged him into the sitting room. Grife followed, swallowing a grin.
“Da, look Dommi’s here.”
“We can see that, Antha.,” said Antha’s father Seth, to Domitan, ”Nice to see you. Who’s yer friend?”
“My name’s Grife Madonal.” Grife stepping forward to shake Seth’s hand.
Seth gave Grife a shrewd look, “Yer one of the Forest Folk. Too late to walk home, you can stay here fer the night.”
“Thanks.” Domitan said.
“If I didn’t let ya stay Antha wouldn’t talk to me fer days.” Seth said with a grin. Antha threw her father an indignant look.
Grife sat down to talk with Seth. Domitan followed Antha to the kitchen were Anne was stirring the bean soup. Stan, Antha’s little brother, was setting the table.
While they were eating Seth said, “Ya know when Anne and I were younger we did lots of exploring. We once were over near the Torrir Dragonhold. We met one of the Freemen Tribe and his family; his name was Oak, his wife was Jonne, his son’s name was Forrest, their surname was Dagwood. Have you met them?”
“I met Oak once he was part of my tribe. I never thought that he would join the Freemenians.”
Grife and Domitan slept by the fireplace in the sitting room. Domitan and Antha spent hours in the kitchen catching up on what had happened since last summer.
Grife felt better, now that he knew the boy had a friend. He would have to talk to Beria about the way he had seen her treat Domitan.

The next morning they set out as soon as the sun was up.
When Domitan turned to wave to Antha, he saw tears running down her face. They must be harder on Antha being a foreigner than they are on me. And I live up on the mountain and get it only every so often, she gets it every day.
When they got back, Domitan searched the barn for some planks, for his bed. Then he carried the wood out to his hide out. His hide out was in the top of an ancient tree. He had a rope hanging from the door so he could take things up with him. The tree made a perfect bowl between it’s larger branches, it was also sheltered by the thick leaves that covered it all year round. Domitan had also built a roof and three walls and most of a fourth. He kept some tools and nails up here with a book he had bought from the traders. As he got the wood inside, he laid them out to make sure they were the same length. They were. He nailed everything together and lowered it to the ground. He carried it on top of his head back to the house so Beria wouldn’t find his hide out. When he got it to his room, he found a pallet and a blanket and pillow.
When he had the bed assembled he ran down into the sitting room, “Thanks, Aunt.” Then Domitan looked around the room, “Where’s Beria?”
“She went lookin’ for you.”
Remember, only dead fish swim with the stream
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Old 01-27-2006, 05:25 PM   #3
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Then suddenly his ship with thirty of his forty men with him. im going to guess that you forgot to finish the sentence and you meant they arrived,

I love the story!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i can guess the last part, the girl will find the dragon....keep writing i wanta read more
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Old 02-17-2006, 10:49 PM   #4
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Default Chapter 2

<Riding the Storm>

Grife had given Beria a talking to. She now knew that the way she treated Domitan hurt him. Even if she was a beastly little girl, she did care how other people felt. She was embarrassed by her actions; this was a new feeling to her.

Beria didn’t really want to talk to Domitan, because it shamed her so. She only told Beria that so she wouldn’t have to darn socks. Beria now stood at the edge of a cliff that was about twenty feet high. Looking out across the trees seemed to help her relax. She brushed the light brown that had escaped the braid behind her ear.

Beria turned around when she heard footfalls. It was Domitan.

Domitan looked into her pale hazel eyes, they were cold. “Elryia said you were looking for me. If you just want to insult me, I’ll leave.” Domitan crossed his arms.

Beria drew her gray coat tighter around her shoulders. “I wasn’t, I was just tired of sewing.” Beria lied skillfully. She had lots of practice.

“You’re a woman and women sew.” Domitan said, almost echoing Beria’s words from a few days ago.

Beria stuck her tongue out and turned around.

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A few weeks later spring had arrived. Grife was going to help plow the fields, before he left. Domitan and Grife sat under a tree, resting for a few minutes.

“You show some promise.” Grife said.

“What?” said Domitan, feeling very puzzled.

“Cynthi says you may become a Dragonrider.”

“Really? Why?”

“She doesn’t tell me why, she just tells me what.”

Domitan raised his eyebrows. ‘Why is Grife being cryptic’?

“Will you join me?”
Domitan thought about it for a moment. Most boys were apprentices by the time they were fifteen. Even Seti was apprenticed. ‘What could be more fun that becoming a Dragonrider?’ “Yes. I’ll tell Berlan.”

“You sure you want to tell Berlan? I could tell him.”

“I want to do it. Even if it’s only out of respect and thanks.”

A few days later Domitan still hadn’t told Berlan, that he was leaving.

Elryia was planting her vegetable garden and Domitan had just hauled some water from the creek. Berlan strode out of the house. Domitan felt that this was the time to tell him.

“Berlan, Grife has offered me a position at his apprentice.”

“What?” snapped Berlan.

“I plan to take it.” Domitan said firmly.

“You’re not leaving.” Berlan said, his voice rising.

“I’ve no reason to stay.” Domitan snorted. Beria’ll get the farm. I have to make my own way. And nobody in Anaga wants a d****d b*****d as their apprentice.”

Berlan backhanded Domitan heavily across the face, sending him sprawling. “Don’t use that language.”

“That’s what most people say, including Beria.” Domitan retorted.

Berlan glowered at Domitan. “You’re not going.” Then he stalked into the barn.

Domitan rose. As he rose a deep, purple bruise was already forming on his cheek. Elryia placed her hand on his shoulder, “You know the fact that you have no inheritance hurts him.” she said kindly.

Domitan roughly shook her hand off. “No I didn’t.” he retorted. He turned and began to run up the mountain. He heard Elryia call after him. However, he didn’t stop. Anger, rage, and pain boiled inside of him. He knew it he spoke, it would be as a string of colorful curses. He was barely aware of the trees leafy branches whipping around and the uncommon silence. He stopped running about thirty meters below the tree line. He spotted a tall pine and shinned up it’s trunk.

Domitan settled himself in the topmost branches. He looked out to the sea, there were great black thunderheads boiling. Every sensible person would be inside when it hit. ‘People always say I’m not smart. This’ll please ‘em.’

When the bellows of wind hit, the tree bent. Domitan feared for a moment that the trunk would break. When it sprang back, he felt a surge of elation, it was unlike anything he had felt before.

Then the rain came. Torrents fell like small, cold ice-balls. As it pounded his body, he began to feel his old life wash away.

Several hours later, he was drenched and tired. Too tired to even climb out of the tree. Domitan trusted the tree, it had bore him through the storm. He fell asleep, exhausted.

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The next morning when he woke, he smelt the refreshing smell of damp dirt. Domitan slid from his perch. He inhaled the rich, piney smell, mixed with the smell of growing things. He felt undeniable alive.

Domitan casually sauntered back to the farm. He had collected his waxed leather bag and book on The Creatures of Galan, from his hideout. He noticed Grife was wearing his chain mail, with his leather jerkin over it. Grife also wore his gauntlets and greaves.

Domitan went into his room, ignoring what anyone said. He gathered his leather coat, gloves, heavy tunic, and his mother’s broach.

When he stood in front of Grife, with his bag, he regained his sense of hearing.

“I guess Berlan didn’t like it.” Grife commented.

Domitan looked at Berlan’s livid face. “Nope, he didn’t.” Domitan grinned against his will. Grife grinned back.

Berlan stomped his feet. “When are you gonna get going.” he demanded impatiently.

Grife just smiled.

Overhead they soon heard what could be the preceding a storm, but the sky was clear. Cynthi was circling down in corkscrews.

Berlan starred at the sky, his mouth agape.

“I suggest ya close yer mouth, unless you wanna eat flies.” Grife said cheerfully.
Remember, only dead fish swim with the stream
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Last edited by Inwe Ringil : 02-17-2006 at 10:51 PM.
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Old 02-17-2006, 10:52 PM   #5
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Default Part 2 of Chapter 2

Berlan closed his mouth. He shot an angry look at Grife and resumed watching the sky.

Cynthi landed with a soft thump. She turned her fathomless eyes on Beria. Beria shrank back and hid behind Elryia.

Grife touched Cynthi gently between her eyes. It was a gesture of complete trust. Then he hauled himself onto her back. He held out his gauntleted hand, “You coming?”

Domitan slung the bag over his shoulder, across his chest. He took Grife’s hand and clambered onto the saddle, behind Grife. Then he looked at them; Elryia’s expression was one of utter surprise, Berlan’s told that he was berating himself for not guessing when the dragon story was told, and Beria’s was one of indifference.

Cynthi leapt into the air, her talons scoring deep marks in the ground.

Domitan waved for as long as he could see them. As they flew, no one spoke. Except, maybe, Grife and Cynthi through their mind link. Therefore, Domitan had a lot of time to think.

He mainly thought about his immediate future. What would his training be like? What would Grife’s other apprentice be like? However, he found himself slipping into recollecting his past. He remembered meeting Antha for the first time. It had been at the festival that Anaga held every year when the traders were in town. Domitan had just turned eight and that day was Antha’s seventh. Domitan had been hiding from Seti: Seti had just started to resent Domitan. Antha happened to be hiding in the same place. Antha was upset because all her parents seemed to care about was baby Stan.

Then his memories jumped forward just three years ago, when he was twelve. He and Beria had gotten along fine since they were little. Beria had suddenly turned on him, she called him nasty names. Those words seemed to cut straight to his soul. He remembered that the sting had gone out of them after awhile. She had continued her verbal assaults until two weeks ago when he became invisible to her. Domitan had enjoyed this at first, how could he not? But then he began to wonder what had caused Beria’s outlook towards him. He never did find out.

Domitan was so immersed in his memories that he didn’t notice their descent.

Grife nimbly leapt from Cynthi’s back. Domitan, however, half fell, half climbed off. His muscles were stiff from long hours of disuse.

Domitan was so tired that after a warm meal of bread, beef, and carrots, he went to sleep.

The next morning he was pulled from the dark warmth of sleep into the cold morning by Grife shaking him awake.

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The next three and a half days passed in much the same way. Around noon on the fourth day. Domitan saw the gleaming white buildings of Anaga. The residents of Anaga didn’t notice the royal purple Dragon flying above them. They were inured to it.

Cynthi landed with a soft thump in the courtyard in front of the Dragonkeep. Grife touched her between the eyes, then she flew into the mountains.

Anaga was deep in the Plaeti Mountains, cut off from the world. Being in the high altitude and in the mountains, it was still winter there.

Domitan followed Grife through the two great wooden doors. Domitan trailed his fingers along the wall. The wall was smooth and unbroken beneath his fingertips. Along the way, they passed wooden doors that were like the Great Doors except for the fact that they were unadorned.

Grife finally stopped in front of a door much like the ones they had passed on the way here. This door had a gold plate, which hung on it. The plate was engraved with the name ‘Pilowwi’.

Grife knocked sharply on the door. “Enter.” Came a deep, husky, voice from inside.

Grife opened the door and ushered Domitan in front of him.

Domitan entered. He saw a man with short white hair and a wispy white beard. Grife bowed to the man, “My Master.”

Domitan felt awkward. What should he do? Since he didn’t know, he bowed. It seemed appropriate and it made the moment less awkward.

“Welcome, Youngling.” He addressed Domitan. “Welcome, Grife.” Pilowwi rose and embraced Grife.

Domitan looked at the floor and shuffled his feet.

“It is nice to see you again, Master.”

“Same for me, Grife. Same for me.” Pilowwi said, nodding his head. “So, who’s your young friend?”

“Master, this is Domitan. I’m going to take him as my apprentice.” Grife said, smile beaming.

“Did Cynthi agree to this.” Pilowwi inquired gravely. All his former joy gone.

“Of course she did. She’s the one who detected him . . . You don’t approve.” Grife said looking crestfallen.

“No, no it’s not that. He just looks remarkable like someone I knew. Who’d you say his father was?”

“I didn’t. His aunt and uncle don’t even know who Dom’s father is.” Grife explained.

“He’s from north-east Galan.” Domitan interjected. Grife and Pilowwi looked at him. “Elryia told me that’s all my mother said about him . . . Oh, and that I have two older sisters.”

“That narrows it down quite a bit. Not many people live near Swytchlin Forest except the Hill People and the Forest Folk. Moreover, you are obviously not of either of those lineages.

Several minutes of absolute silence passed. Domitan found this unnerving, not just because of the silence, but also a niggling feeling in the back of his mind.

“The choosing will take place an hour before dawn.” said Pilowwi. With that Grife and Domitan left.
Remember, only dead fish swim with the stream
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Old 02-18-2006, 11:25 AM   #6
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lovely story. I can't read it all right now (moms screaming at me to go to sleep, on a FRIDAY, can you believe her?!?!) but what I have read so far is pretty good. lol I congrat you on getting past the first chapter, thats the hardest part for me. truth be told I've never gotten past the first chapter of anything I've written that wasn't for school.
Tweedledee (To Alice): I know what you're thinking about, but it isn't so, nohow.
Tweedledum: Contrarwise, if it was so, it might be; and if it were so, it would be; but as it isn't it ain't
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