Criticism on a revision draft

[RAE]

@power

Believe it or not, every one of your posts make me laugh. It would be interesting to meet you in person one day, that conversation could go really good or really bad fast.

I apprieciate your comment very much. I shall be changing that. In fact, I’ve been doing a re-work of chapter one and shall post it here when I’m done.

"You need French Toast."
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)

[RAE]

@loopylin

Now the question is, at what point do like Nahim that if he died, would you feel any emotion for him?

And I hope you don’t mind this question, but do have a hard time separating the words Alin and Akin? Do they look exactly the same to you?

Thanks for suggestions! I love suggestions, they always teach me something. 😃.

Do you think the chapters a little long? They are usually about five to ten pages.

 

"You need French Toast."
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)

[RAE]

@hybridlore @power @freedomwriter76 @euodia-vision @kyronthearcanin @jonas @loopylin @whalekeeper @anyone-else-who-might-have-slight-interest

Next chapter…I’m just going to post most of my chapters now since I plan to change some of them soo, but want some feedback.

CHAPTER 5-MASTER PAUL
Mandin adjusted the thick band to the satchel over his shoulder as he stepped down the ramp of his transport ship. After a childhood of dreaming, he was actually going to be in the Space Skwads of the Realn, but even though it was a dream come true, he was not happy. ‘Where is Nahim now?’  He was angry with his father because his father couldn’t help prove Nahim’s name as good. Maybe it was just that Master Milcah wouldn’t, Mandin didn’t know. He was angry with the Realn people for calling on his draft now, of all times. He was angry with the Nanians for what they had done and with the still unknown traitor for his role, too.

They had landed in a hangar, fighters of a dozen classes were either out for repairs and prep work or hung along the ceiling by the crane systems until they were needed. To describe every color and depictions, in all the different styles on the fighter’s painted hulls, would take too long. Before I could get halfway I would bore you, but it is enough to say each fighter was customized by its pilot. As for the hangar wall itself, the only decoration was the fighters, the uniforms of the workers, and a large Ward symbol on one wall, otherwise it was one shade of royal blue. People shouted to each other over the din of many different activities, but one voice near Mandin rose above the others,

“Are you Sir Mandin Owen Ward? New drit for the Boomerangs?”

Mandin looked for the owner of the voice. “Yes.”

“I am First Guardian of the Boomerangs, Fier Akin.” The powerful voice came from a slim man in the black and gold Guardian uniform of the Ward. The size of the man caught Mandin’s eye, he was smaller than the average Realn male build, he was not as broad in the shoulders, not as strong in the chest. He looked like the average of the other Wondian men who don’t have as high a blood as the Realn. At least he was about the average for Realn in height. Mandin saluted his superior with a bow of his head, for Realn never bow the knee. They drop to one knee and press a fist to chest and bow the head to the emperor or empress but there is what is called the Realn Pride. There is no true Realn who bends both knees to any save Ehyeh.

Akin slightly nodded in personal approval of this new Boomerang. From his point of view, he almost envied Mandin’s noticeable, visible strength and as well as having two parents, both having the authority of a lord. For a minute he stood wondering what he wished to say next. He tried hard to hide his accent and to keep the powerful tone he had addressed Mandin with but the Realn words failed him.

“I will show you… to the barracks. I, I personally meet all of my new men, I think you will like the Madala. She is rather large and it may take a while for you to get… accustomed to her many passageways but overall she is… our home and we… love her.” ‘If you got rank by how well you speak rather than skill, I would be an eilf at the most!’ “I noticed that you were a… bounty hunter before you, you were a Guardian.”

Mandin glanced at the crossbar visor of Akin. “Yes, sir.”

Oh why did Akin have to get the best friend of a Codebreaker? Akin beckoned Mandin to follow him as he went weaving among the fighters and men.

“Our barracks are near by the, uh, entrance hangar, I mean entrance to the… hangar. Off of the western hallway.”

Akin soon plunged into a description of the order of the western hallway in which most of the Boomerangs had spent the year, rarely venturing into any other Mainway. Mandin found Akin a little hard to listen to. Every once in a while, he would accent half a word and hurry the other and then he often paused or tripped up what he was saying and even sometimes said it in a backwards order. Even with these trippings of speech, he sounded like he knew what he was talking about.

And so, on Yeray 11th, 10019, as Canin talked with Nahim in the hallway, Mandin Ward stepped, for the first time, into what would be his home for years, the Boomerang barracks. They were built like most Ward Guardian barracks, with two story bunks lining the walls, leaving an open space in the center for various activities. In the far left corner was the door to Akin’s separate quarters. The walls were well painted with rather skilled and colorful depictions of battles and missions.  There also was a large painting along one wall that had each one of the Boomerangs, not separated by rank as if they were all just forever brothers, as they are. The Boomerangs themselves kept their uniforms fairly new-looking. The gold colors were polished, the black colors were glossy. Some didn’t wear their helmets as they lounged and talked or wrestled in the wide open space in the center. There was no other door for the women’s quarters, and there were no women in the Boomerangs. Within a second of the new drit and the fier walking in, most of the Boomerangs were aware of them.

Akin removed his helmet and hung it from his belt to clap his hands. “Brothers! I’ve brought the next one to be painted on the wall! Meet Mandin Owen, new three swipe.”

Mandin was welcomed warmly by the Boomerangs. As Mandin was being swarmed with questions like: “What’s your choice weapon?” “What part of Banor do you come from?” “What was it like growing up with two Masters for parents and in a training academy?” Akin said to him plain and clear above them all, “I’m glad you’re here, we’ve needed more muscle in this squad.” He swiped away the one long lock of brown hair waving in front of his face.

“If you please, sir, where’s your Sword?”

Akin’s brows knotted. “My sword? Why, on, on my bellt.”

“Yes, sir, but I meant your swordsman.”

“We have men who can handle a sword reasonably well. But not someone who…uses it as their choiss weapon. Why…have you asked?”

“Not much of a reason, sir, only I have found them useful.”

Akin was beginning not to like this new guy. His first day and he already is asking something like this without much of a reason? He was getting annoyed.

“Swordsman? Well, do you happen to know any who will join us?”

“Not really, sir. I apologize for stepping this far.”

Akin weaved through the crowd to his office, into which he soon disappeared. He needed to stop talking, his accent was becoming harder to keep from his speech. He wondered what the whole point of that bit of dialogue was.

A black-haired man grabbed Mandin’s arm, “Your bunk is over here, bottom tier.” Mandin thanked him and set his stuff under it. The dark-haired man sat across from him and began to repaint a piece of armor that was scratched. “No squadron on the Madala keeps better looking armor than the Boomerangs. How did you know we didn’t have a swordsman?”

Mandin shrugged. “My best friend is one and he has bits of paint showing crystal and laser swords damage, none of your men have that, though I guess if you did, you kinda would cover it up. None of ya own two swords, neither did my friend at one point but still, he used to keep two swords and rarely a gun at his side. And none of your men put hands to their swords as soon as a stranger walks in. Otherwise it was a guess. Mostly a guess.” The other man looked up and Mandin was struck by his blue eyes, unbelievably pure true blue.

“Your friend goes to grab his weapon whenever someone new enters the room even if they are with someone he trusts?” The smooth and slightly feminine-looking features of the young man twisted in a questioning look.

“Yeh, he was a trader guard for almost… two years, I think, of what appears to be valuable cargo. He also has been betrayed to his almost death before. He has some trust issues, a little suspicious.”

“Oh, I should introduce myself. I know who you are but I am Drit Zach, son of Owemn and Hallia.” Zach stretched out his right hand, Mandin grasped his wrist and Zach grasped his. This is a Realn sign of friendship or peace.

So began Mandin’s friendship with the Boomerangs. Zach had him meet Alin, a brown-haired, dark grey-eyed three star drit right under Akin. He also chanced to meet Chance, a curly dark brown haired and brown eyed eilf who was taller than himself. His skin was darker than the lower melanin shade of Mandin, Zach, Akin, and Alin though not as dark as Kwinton’s. Tule Kwinton also made his acquaintance. He had frizzy black hair of 3 inches, and irises so dark that they looked almost black. His skin also was a dark brown. There were many others that Mandin met on this day, but I will not bore you with names but almost everyone he met liked him from the time they first met him. This is a quality that Mandin had little knowledge that he possessed, but there was a certain twist of his lip when he smiled, a certain way that he talked that sounded like the world was made of sunshine. He was almost impossible to not like. Mandin is honest and good-natured, even with his iron grip, he can touch something so lightly that it could seem like a mother’s soft touch. His smile is quick to his lips, and laughter follows soon after. His eyes of brown hold that twinkle of wise merriment, spent not idly, but rather, spent when the time seems right, when the world lacks a true smile. Even grave Nahim would sometimes have to let the half smile creep over his features at times when his friend laughed.

*****

On Yeray 13th, a tall man of almost seven feet silently strode among the bunks under the glance of the Boomerangs. His left shoulder pad showed a gold dragon with a sword meaning he was a Master of War. He was not a Guardian Master since he wore light green and brown armor with some blue, not the uniform of the Ward. He seemed not to notice the eyes that were cast upon him. The figure entered Akin’s quarters without a knock.

“Not off on an adventure, I see.” The stranger’s deep voice rumbled. Akin was pouring over some papers on his desk filled with his own notes and some holographic sheets for his report. He looked up as the voice spoke and smiled a weary smile. His office was dark with only the golden-hued sheets giving him light over his cluttered desk. A lamp hovered over his head but it was dark.

“Paul, you will never forget about me. You… didn’t have to come, wouldn’t it have been better for you just… to order Mandin Owen to Lord Nahor and do it before him where everything is on …record?”

Master Paul Ward smiled, “Do you want me to forget about you?”

“No, you know that. Besides, ever since that one day I know it does nat matter what I wonnt, you’ll always…watch over me like the father you’ve…been.”

“Well! You hide your accent excellently. Your speech is getting better.”

“I woosh it would hurry up ‘getting better’. I still haf to…think about what commes next.”

Master Paul chuckled. “Your thoughtful, Uhkin that’s the only time when you get your paperwork done, in the dark.”

Akin smiled at the use of his true, un-Realn name “Yeah.” Akin lifted up his hand and turned a switch on the top of the hovering light. Instantly, the room was lit, showing Akin’s unmade mess of a loft bed, his securely closed and well-kept chest under it, his wooden-looking chair and desk and the paintings of different objects on the floor, walls, roof, and bed. The light glistened on Akin’s pristine armor.

“Mandin call to me want you do? Oh! Why do I do that? Do you want me to call Mandin?”

*****

The Guardians around Mandin taunted him to hand wrestle.

“That would be unfair, one of you against one of me? Make it at least two.”

Zach smiled. “Make that two.” He joined Thurston as Mandin’s opponent. Mandin stood across from them in the open space and got in position. Elbows bent, hands outspread, feet apart, one in front of the other. Zach and the blond Thurston did the same except with their left hands touching their rights. Alin called the go. In a second one of Mandin’s hands met the two put together and closed on the armored fingers like a vice. Zach gave a worried look to the eilf at his side. They had misjudged the soft-eyed Realn. With a twist of Mandin’s upper body, he sent both of them to the ground. The small crowd cheered as Mandin gave a small smile while he lifted up his opponents. Once again, his eyes were that kind brown.

“When Akin said muscle, he meant muscle!” Zach grasped Mandin’s wrist. This comment got the general laugh from the audience but was broken by a deep voice.

“I’ve rarely found my son to be wrong.” As the new voice pierced the air everyone turned to see Master Paul. They saluted as one. “Continue, but I’m afraid I must take away your prize wrestler for a bit.” Mandin stepped forward and again, saluted as the crowd of Boomerangs behind him picked out two opponents. Together the Master and Warrior walked to the door of Akin’s quarters; as Mandin entered, he saluted. Akin did not salute Master Paul.

“Mandin, this is my father, Master Paul Bruce. He, um, is the one who…” Akin looked like he was fishing for a word he couldn’t find. “He, uh, is looking into your friend’s case on the personal behalf of Lord Nahor. This investigation is off records.” ‘Why can’t I figure out how to speak this language eloquently?’

Master Paul leaned against the loft bed as Mandin turned around and questionably raised his eyebrows. “What have you found against Nahim, Master?”

“Nothing, his record is clean. He was even the son of two Masters with the same authority as your own parents and the same unquestionable records. His father even was Steward to the Nayhelm while Lord Adorian was away. He has gone off record before though, we don’t know what happened while he was with the traders but it’s clear that he couldn’t have done some of the strange sabotage that happened during that time. We also know that the cargo that he guarded was very much hurtful to Vorgan, a traitor would sneak it away or destroy Johann’s trade and get away. It’s also interesting that Vorgan issued a snip at that same time for any news of red-eyed, black-haired men. Then this Grostoff comes out now with a snip against someone with the strangest eyes that are almost totally red.”

“Have you found out who the Grostoff is, Master?”

“No, the number goes to a tavern, one of the most popular on the whole 4W of Dolant. It is also the most primitive, no cameras, and the log only shows people in debt to them. I’m looking for this Grostoff now.”

“Master, if I could tell you right now the way you could know who this Grostoff is and that Nahim is innocent, would you do what I cannot and save my friend if he’s not doomed already?”

“What have you got?”

Mandin turned to Akin, “Permit me, sir, to grab some items that are with my stuff.”

“Do what you wish.” Mandin saluted and turned to leave. As he was about to close the door behind him, he heard Akin begin to speak to Master Paul rather quickly in a different language, it flowed off his tongue like a creek’s water. When he returned, Master Paul was also quietly speaking to Akin in that unknown language though not as beautifully.

When Akin didn’t stumble over his words or add his suppressed accent, he was wonderful to listen to.

Mandin saluted and set on Akin’s desk the small recording boxes of the Nanian Imperil Guards as well as the red-bound journal and sword tied to it that Nahim had loved. Master Paul looked at the curious objects. He picked up one of the recording boxes, his back to Mandin, as if it were some disease that too hard a touch could infect him. He swiveled on his heel.

“Where did you get these?”

“Nahim left instructions in his journal. They were at Laxan.”

“And what is the Grostoff’s name according to these?”

“I don’t speak Nanian, Master, but I believe it is Canin.”

Master Paul flipped down his visualizer to skim through the recordings himself. Akin motioned Mandin out of the room.

Akin engrossed himself in the slow reading of Nahim’s journal where began the newest written runes.

The details! This Nahim fellow must have known every rock Mandin had to roll away to get to these helmets his Honor depended on. He even said to not bother about the creatures upon the grasslands, one evil look and they will run from the face of a Realn. Akin had never been to Laxor, let alone Laxan. But with the description in this book, he could have painted it.

“Ah! Uhkin, these must be brought to Lord Nahor immediately! We now finally know where these dreaded Terror weapons are sourced! I leave at once, hand me that journal. Nayhelm! Nayhelm! Your descendants have once again helped their Ward brothers!”

Master Paul left with speed and haste, but as he boards his stealthy ship of gold and blue stripes, I must explain to my Earthling and non-Realn readers what Master Paul meant by the last part of his outburst.

My rabbit trail begins with the Realn of Ancient Wond. They were at war at this time with another warrior nation, but ones that did not serve the merciful Ehyeh, but instead many deities.

There was a Ward ship on which sailed three characters that are important to the story of the man we must learn about. The captain, called by all of his crew a loving “Cap”. A first mate by the name of Kwin.  And another crew member whom everyone called “Laughing”.

As they were sailing to meet an enemy ship on the horizon, a sea serpent attacked the enemy’s ship, which was quickly abandoned by all the crew except one. Cap had rescued this young man from the serpent and drowning with Kwin and Laughing to aid him.

The rest of the tale is long and sad but after many a conversation with Cap, and to the great relief of Laughing as well as the utter joy of Kwin, the rescued young man came to know Ehyeh as his Friend, and Savior.

This man’s true name is forgotten. He left it behind with his old self, and his friends erased it from the pages of history, but his name after he became one of Ehyeh’s children was Nayhelm.

From this man came the Nayhelm family-clan and more than once has this little clan helped the Ward, since the Ward helped them. Since the time of Nayhelm, the two clans have sometimes considered each other as honorary brothers, thus Master Paul’s statement is explained.

When Master Paul left, Akin called Mandin to come to his office again,

“Father has gone to help your friend…and he must get some, um, of the other infomaration on the recordings to the Ward.”

“How soon can he act, sir?”

“The Madala is near enough to Banor, it shalln’t be long.”

“I hope he hurries, sir. Nahim’s life depends on it.”

“I know, apparently Vorgan really, uh, hates this guy from what I’ve heard from Father and read from your friends’ journal, the little bit that I did.”

“Thank you, sir, for understanding and dealing with my somewhat biased views about Nahim.”

“I don’t see why ya thank me. And Mandin?”

“Yes, sir?”

“When not on mission, don’t call me ‘sir’. That’s an order. Speak the casual way you want to. And act casual as well, you salute too much.” There was a twinkle in Akin’s eye as he said the last part and allowed some of his accent to slip through. He knew how hard it was to keep from speaking the way you are used to or wish to.

“Okay.”

“See ya latar, I have some paperwork.”

Mandin nodded, not in salute. He walked out and closed the door behind him. Maybe he could finally feel like he felt like not too long ago, before Nahim was in danger for his life.

“Well, is our Boomerang muscle finally finished with his business with Akin? If he is, shall we not begin our game again, I bet Drake and Azio could give a little more fight than thin ol’ Zach.” Those blue eyes laughed at his own description of himself.

“Yeh. Yeh, I think ya can try, and fail.”

Drake laughed, tossing his helmet onto his bunk, he showed his lean mature face with its orange-green-brown eyes, unruly red hair and short beard.

“Too much confidence! Azio and I are the champions here, no young 26-year-old is going to beat the both of us! We have the twist!”

“We shall see ‘bout that!”

Mandin won.

*****

On Yeray 14th at about 23:00 a new snip was run out:

To all persons: 100 Galaxos reward for good information on the whereabouts of Nahim Nayhelm. Kind: Man. Gender: Masculine. Hair color: black. Skin: pale brown. Eye color: red. Age: 19. Height: 9 hands. Build: average Realn male. Notes: voice lacks much deepness. Will most likely be weaponless and helmetless but still wearing armor. Contact employer via hologram. Realn tri-solar system, Banor MasterPaulWard500 3694812b 51015 445EW.

Mandin never saw it, he was on a mission with the Boomerangs to sabotage a Nanian supply base. But Olvos saw the snip.

*****

Master Paul reclined back in his comfortable pilot seat. His Realn ship, shaped similar to an Earthling’s stealth fighter F-117 Nighthawk, but with the wings as one big wing in the back and no tail, was not considered a fighter, but was shaped and worked similarly to some. His droid and he could live in this not-to-spacious spacecraft rather well, and he loved the old Nightmare. She had been his father’s before him. The base color was black but gold and blue stripes streaked across it. There was a copilot seat along with the pilot seat from which came a thin sea blue hallway lit with bright white hovering lamps. Off of this hallway, stemmed four rooms before it led down to the lower levels where there was a low bay along the belly. The equipment door was down at the end of the bay but the hatch that was commonly used was the cockpit glass. Most of the interior was blue.

Here, as Master Paul played with the settings of his helmet, a ding, like a large bell came from his vital piece of armor. He answered the hologram but he saw no face, only a symbol of two green eyes surrounded by tentacles.

“MasterPaulWard500, meet me at the 2nd Swampside Tavern on Orchoo in the Cacoonadusau system. I have some information you are looking for. 17:00 on the 7th of their calendar.” The call ended before Master Paul spoke but he still wasted no time in entering Cubespace.

*****

A smoky atmosphere carrying a pungent odor swirled around Master Paul as he entered the 2nd Swampside Tavern. It was 16:54 as he took a rough wooden (or so he guessed, it had a strange texture and look) seat near the door. Blasting music mingled with the sound waves of shouts and laughter. Dole yellow light hid from sight the full crowd within the thick smoke.

At 17:00 on the dot a tall man with olive eyes entered. The figure glanced around before seeing Master Paul to his right. With ease he slid into the place across from the Master.

“You are Master Paul?” The Realn nodded. The Olive-eyed man continued, “I’m Olvos. I was one of the bounty hunters who captured the Nahhim kid. I promised him I would tell someone to whom and where I left him. Where is Mandin Ward? Why isn’t he looking for his friend?”

“Complications, he got held up with something he could not leave for. Not even for his friend.”

“Anyway, we handed the kid over on the 2nd of Cadu by the Nadu calendar to a man named Canin Grostoff, I believe. His hologram audio was for Dolant but we didn’t meet him there. Rather around a planet about a weeks’ cubespace away, a moon called Archack. The kid seemed pretty upset to see Canin, I think they might have known each other before, by the way he reacted to his voice.”

Master Paul sat bolt upright. “Cadu 2nd! That’s Yeray 11th, which was almost a tai ago!”

Olvos tilted his head, thinking. “Yeesssss, which was about 5 days ago…how long is a tai?”

“7 days.”

Olvos thought for a minute and then continued, “I haven’t got to the better part, or worse since…well you shall hear for yourself. After I handed him over, I tapped into a little device. I always put a little thing on each of my bounties, I can track and listen and I hadn’t taken the little pin-head sized thing off of the kid’s belt. The kid was handed over to Vorgan, I heard a scuffle, some shouts, I think Nahhim fought the guards but was overpowered. In that scuffle the thing got punched and since it is supposed to be so small that it is almost unnoticeable, it doesn’t stand blows well. For the rest of the time, the audio went in and out and the location finder was missing on my screen. I couldn’t hear much more, mostly threats after something was kicked to the floor. I couldn’t make much out but one sentence came out clear, “I will feed you to a mormaka!” After that, they dragged him out and I saw him taken to Vorgan’s own ship. My pin-tracker blinked out then and I have not been able to get it back on line, I think it is totally ruined. Shame too, it was a good device, not to mention pricey! That little thing cost me about 85 Galaxos! I can’t know where they went but I do know that the Danoo system has not outlawed the Nanians and is famous for its mormaka’s on the western sides of the first four. Poor kid. He seemed like a good kid, don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want to hand him over but I made a deal.” Master Paul paid Olvos as he thanked him. Together, they stepped out of the tavern.

“One more thing Master Paul, here’s the password to almost all of the satellites over the Danoo system. So long.” Olvos faded into the gathering darkness as he walked off. Boards creaked under his feet as he went over the swamps’ bridges. A deep croak from the nightly singers of nature in the swamp sent up a strange song to the moon that hung in the navy blue sky. Master Paul smiled as he looked at the sheet of paper, Olvos sure had his ways.

On board the Nightmare, 23, a Realn robot with the same broad chest and thin waist as Canin’s worked at tapping into the satellites above the Danoo system. Nothing was found. 23 kept trying.

Yeray 17th came and went without one clue.

On the 18th, 23 dashed into Master Paul’s dim quarters to shake him from a restful sleep.

“Master, I have found something.”

"You need French Toast."
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)

[RAE]

@hybridlore @power @freedomwriter76 @euodia-vision @kyronthearcanin @jonas @loopylin @whalekeeper @anyone-else-who-might-have-slight-interest

CHAPTER 6-ON BOARD THE NIGHTMARE
Nahim was alone and unbothered for the first time in a while. He ran his right hand over his sling for his left arm but didn’t try to move the shoulder. He was different. He had cut his hair short, and one part of his head was shaved for the deep cut along the right side of his head. That would form a nice scar. His left arm was neatly set in a white sling. He rested, half-reclined, in a chair and closed his eyes as he breathed out slowly.  He was in a bright lit room, painted with calming blue spectrum shades. A large window before him showed a view of some special gardens. Besides the chair in which he sat, there was two others and a small brown table but otherwise, no other furniture. What date was it? Oh, yes, Ray 15th.  It had been two taie since the mormaka and Nahim’s shoulder was healing well. Even partly reclined, he could still see out of the window that took up one entire wall. Down below were many flowery gardens that ran down in steps. As he looked down, he saw a young woman. Her hair was 3 inches below her shoulders and curled in wild ways. It gleamed a brown-gold in the rays of the lone sun hung in the sky. She wore no armor, some didn’t here, Daresoon was a Realn-ruled nation who did not always wear the same clothes. Though what this girl wore was not traditional for this place either, she wore a three-quarter-sleeved green shirt that had a style cut similar to elvish styles yet not quite. Her pants were the same. Over her shoulders was a light orange and white cloak with a cast back hood. He noticed that she also wore oval earrings with different colors of a shining inner part of a shell. He had seen such things, each pattern different and each color uniquely shaped by the clam’s diet. She turned her head and Nahim noticed she wore a heart-shaped pendant, which had the same colors as her earrings. Her blue eyes caught sight of him and she waved slightly. Was this girl elvish? She was not too tall, the average for that planet, but around her finger was a silver ring with a leaf, made of the same stuff as her necklace and earrings. There also was an elvish hilt and sheath for a dagger attached to her belt, which carried carvings and runes of that pretty language. One lone purple jewel glistened on the hilt. A wind picked up a lock of hair over her ear, they weren’t pointed. He studied her face, it was not the fairest he had ever seen but it still was somewhat beautiful, he could not rightly guess her age except she seemed to be a teen. Her cheekbones did not stand out to much but they were there in her oval face, her nose was somewhat rounded in shape. There was nothing disproportional in her features, her proportions were normal for a Wondian woman. She slightly smiled but he caught a gleam, a look in her eyes that he knew all too well. A softness to her smile that showed a lack of once-there joy. She was missing something special to her in her life. He let his right cheek twitch in response to her wave. The girl turned away, going to a bush of white flowers whose petals were in a swirling pattern. I know my Earthling readers has seen these, for they are the pretty roses of your world. Nahim didn’t know what they were called, he had never seen them before. She put her low melanin hands in the dirt and pulled out some weeds, not caring that her nails would carry the dirt with them. How much care she must have wished for these roses! For the little weeds were barely shoots of green only beginning to come. She then tenderly, as if they were made of the thinnest crystal, touched one of the roses and smelled its sweetness. Her nails were edged with a deep brown. Solemnly she rose and it looked as though her lips were moving. Her voice carried partway through the glass of Nahim’s window but the singing birds made Nahim only able to understand two lines:

 

“And the memory of two,

You now hold close to you.”

 

A door behind Nahim closed. He started and quickly turned to glance. His head swam, he had moved to fast.

“The doctor said your surgery went well. I apologize for not coming to see you earlier. I had something I needed to tend to and just now got back.” When Nahim heard the voice and saw who it belonged to, he laid back down.

“Thank you.” No excitement, no expression, just a simple monotone voice as if he was saying that it was raining outside.

“For what? Saving your life?”

“Yeh.”

“Thank Lord Nahor, he sent me on this personal mission of his. Besides it was your friend who gave us the evidence and that bounty hunter, Olvos I think, who told us about Dolant.” Master Paul sat in the chair next to Nahim, stroking his light brown, neatly cut beard. “Mandin is a good friend. He really was sorry he couldn’t come to get you.”

No reply.

“How long have you known each other?”

Nothing.

“Would you like to join the Guardians with him? You could change your name and your honor is cleared.”

Absolute silence.

“You’re like talking to a brick wall that only says three words.”

Not even a twitch of Nahim’s mouth in amusement at this joking comment from the Master. After a few more failed attempts of conversation, Master Paul left Nahim to himself. Out of curiosity, Nahim looked down for the teen who seemed so strange, but he could not see her. The white rose bush that the girl had stopped at looked as if a refreshing dew was on every petal. She must have come, and watered it with the finest droplets while Master Paul had been trying to get some more talking out of Nahim. Nahim slowly laid back his head and closed his eyes. ‘If Mandin had not been drafted, then this Master wouldn’t have been late. This Master wouldn’t have been there at all. Mandin would have helped me and I would much rather hear that joking voice right now than that deep one. Mandin, I wish it never happened, I wish I could fly without that memory. I’ve tried, I can’t.’

*****

Master Paul would come to visit Nahim many times, but conversation never was sparked. One week, the Master found the armor-less Nayhelm walking among the garden flowers and stopping as a small white rose bush. His face looked perplexed as he saw that the flowers still looked radiant since the touch and words of that girl. Either she knew the song magic of the elves, or this was Nahim’s brain playing tricks on him.

“Do you like white roses?” Master Paul’s voice shattered Nahim’s world of thoughts.

“These are ‘roses’?”

“Yes, that is what I have heard them called by someone I think to be a gardener.”

“Nih, I’m Laxorian.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The trees of Laxor put forth the pretty white blossoms of my life.” Laxorian tree blossoms! He loved the things. Every inch of Laxorian Trees were his favorite, but he found the pretty flowers of Banor a good rival in his favor.

“Have you thought of joining Mandin?”

“I do not fly.”

“You can ––”

“Nih!” Nahim got up and walked away, this was the most he had ever said to the Master and he thought it quite enough.

“You’re going to need someone to fly you around when your shoulder heals enough for you to leave.”

Nahim didn’t answer, the sweet fragrance of the air and the many different colors about him, the flutter of butterflies with their delicate wings, the bow of the flowers to the wind, the rising and falling notes of the songbirds, it all demanded more attention than this one whom he didn’t like to talk to. The sweet scent on the air was like medicine, the tender petals that surrounded him like a relief from the places he had seen. The voices of many little feathery hearts about to burst with great joy like a dew drop on a leaf, were food for the weary soul of man. Those praises to Him who created them at the beginning of time, who with only His voice had He given them life and breath, forever would rise, until the end of the world. The rays of sunshine, like a beam of love, fell upon everything with a tender, soft light. The butterflies, like messengers of every good tiding, landed upon anything that their little brains could process. The trees, laden with flower, swayed with great sweeping strokes like a paintbrush. The pathways were shining with the bits of reflective minerals within the rocks, as if they were the waters of the sea in the sun. It was a poetic moment.

Nahim gently let himself down under a pretty tree, who’s long hanging flowers of purple-lavender swung over his head. He brought up his right knee to his chest and rested his head upon it. Master Paul didn’t take a no for an answer and followed him to this shady spot.

“What do you plan to do after this?”

No response.

“Would you mind sticking around with me?” Nahim lifted his focus from the spring’s green grass and to the visor of the other Realn. Mistrust was written across his face.

“Why?”

“I handle most personal missions for Lord Nahor, and one of those is to get a Laxdain. Would you like to go bounty hunting again?”

“In other words you don’t trust me like I don’t trust you and even though my honor is pure, you want to be sure.”

“Yeh, you’ve got the gist of it.”

“I agree.” ‘No one challenges my honor anymore.’

*****

Seven taie after surgery, Nahim’s arm was finally out of the sling, and he was allowed to go with Master Paul. For the first time in a long time, Nahim felt a copilot seat under him. He found the Nightmare’s one a little more shaped to a body than the old one. It reminded him of the feeling before he met Mandin, before all of this awful stuff had happened. He liked that secure feel.

“For not flying you don’t seem to mind the cockpit.”

Nahim didn’t answer. He was wearing his armor again, it was a mess. His paint was scratched and missing, and the colors of his helmet did not even match the colors of the rest. He still wore no left shoulder pad.

“I could teach you to fly.”

Nahim didn’t move, but his voice came,

“I can’t mentally fly, it’s shooting simple.”

“Can you at least try?”

“Only if you want to die.” Nahim touched the crystal sword that he still had from the mormaka den. “What about Canin?”

“Canin has been denounced from the title of ‘Master of war’ and is being hunted.”

“If I ever come in contact with him again, his blood will pour over the ground.”

“Harsh. Besides remember what the doctor said, he wants you to not overdue that arm of yours. Realn healing might be good but complications make it slower.” Silence was crowned king for a few minutes until Master Paul reached down and opened a chest at the side of his seat. He pulled out Nahim’s sword and journal and tossed them to him. “Drit Mandin had those, I thought you would like them back.”

Nahim didn’t answer. He would need a new pen for his journal.

“We are after a Laxdain named Dan Wan Binkle.”-he paused and then said as a random thought, “Don’t worry about Canin, the Boomerangs will handle him.”

“Who’s…Who are the Boomerangs?”

“Has no one told you? Here.”

Master Paul pulled from his belt a hologram and searched for a picture of a silver fighter shaped like a boomerang. Off to the side could be seen a man in Ward Guardian uniform with the gold dragon, with wings to the side of the head and neck and THE stone on its breast upon the right shoulder and the four swipes of gold upon the left arm, symbolizing he was a fier. His helmet was held in the crook of his arm. Upon the left side of his chest, painted in gold were the runes and symbols telling he was a man of outstanding piloting skills. His face was mostly serious besides a slight twitch to his mouth. His eyes were deep brown, his light brown hair was tied in a neat, even-cut short pony tail off to the left, but one lock dangled over his right eye. What caught Nahim’s attention the most was his build. It was slimmer than average. Master Paul turned off the hologram, and slid it into his belt again. “That is the experimental Boomerang class fighter and my son, Fier Uhkin, I mean Akin. Your friend Mandin is part of them now.” He paused and then changed thoughts. “Anyway, Dan Wan is charged with killing a Realn.”

“If we went after every Realn’s murderer during war, we would have no one left to fight it.”

“That Realn was Lord Nahor’s nephew. That’s why it’s a personal mission.”

“Give me a kabeltron so I can search, and I’ll find this Dan Wan Binkle.”

“Agreed.”

*****

Nahim’s fingers tapped the screen in front of him and swiped out to zoom in. Master Paul leaned over him, watching what the Young Warrior would do as he sat at the computer. The light from the screen reflected off their faces, and into the dark room.

“You know 23 could do this and you don’t have to sit in the dark.”

“I majored in swords and kabeltron programs.” The reply was tinged with a tone of Nahim being annoyed at the Master’s comment. “What does this guy do for a living?”

“What has that got to do with darkness?”

“What does this guy do for a living?”

“What has majoring in swords and kabeltrons got to do with darkness?”

“I think better when it’s mostly black.” Nahim rolled his eyes, why did this Master have to know everything?

“You’re very similar to my son in some ways. Including this old habit he used to have of showing disrespect to his elders.”

“Who does this Dan Wan work for?” Nahim ignored the last comment.

“He many times will take things for the Underworld Market. Other than that, no one except an occasional mission for this guy who lives on Dolant, by the name of Krogen. Reports say this Krogen looks similar to a Realn. Dan Wan himself is, of course, not a Realn but he does have some relation, a nephew or something, that is. ”

Nahim was silent as he quickly got onto a website.

“Nahim, when you’re using someone else’s kabeltron, you really should ask before you go hacking onto sites. It’s polite.”

“Trust the process.”

Master Paul stood up and sighed. “Before you go anywhere in life, you’ve gotta get rid of that attitude.”

“Well, there is no ‘Krogen’ who works for the Underworld though he appears to occasionally buy from them. What about Dan Wan’s relative?”

“23 has already looked into him, no connections. In fact, 23 has already looked into all of the leads and…no wake.”

“Did he find the tracking number?”

“What tracking number?”

“It’s a little-known fact that the Underworld tracks every one of their common agents.”

“And where did a Young Warrior learn that ‘little-known’ fact?”

“I’ve been more places than you might think.”

Nahim tapped the wrong place and the screen blared a warning. Nahim quickly dumped the program. “There goes an easy find.”

“How long were you a bounty hunter?”

“Long enough to know…” Nahim trailed off and entered a site without hacking. He quickly typed a password and began browsing through some snips.

“How are bounty snips supposed to help? I’ve already put out one, you know.”

“Think about it, theft for the Underworld, now do you think that anyone would let go of any item worth going to the Underworld without searching for it? Sure they may hire mercenaries, and let the local culture take care of it, but if you really want results, you must logically send out a snip to people all over the Galaxy. Master Paul himself uses that trick. Then you simply look into who answered the snip, see where they are, and get a little boost for searching…. But…apparently the snips are really old, in this case.” Nahim talked in a low tone as if talking to himself, and indeed he was. “Not many claims…to far apart… to low of money, only amateurs would take these deals, and they go everywhere they don’t need to go.”

“And I expect a Young Warrior has had enough time to no longer be an amateur when he’s only had two years at the most to bounty hunt, huh?”

“15-year-olds sometimes have limitless resources. But…19-year-olds with Masters looking over their shoulders that make sure they know that they are still young by one year, have a harder time.”

“Oh, do you want me to leave?”

“No, I’m going to. Can’t think of anything else since the other obvious spots a droid would have checked.” Nahim got up and stretched his right arm. He had surprised himself by talking so much. Without another word, he stepped out into the hallway which seemed to him a little blinding. He walked straight across the hall to his temporary room. He sighed as he let himself down on the bunk against the far wall. He fingered his helmet for a while, bored. After a while, he tried to comm Mandin, but there was no response. Disgusted, Nahim flung his helmet against the far wall. “Of course his comm number must have changed when he became a Boomerang! And he doesn’t know mine either! Augh!” he slammed himself against the wall behind the bunk and crossed his arms. “Everything seems to go wrong in my life!” Here remained a seething Nahim until Sleep came gliding to his side, and there she remained, her white arms wrapped about his frame. Her tender whisper of dreams in his ear, and her air of peace about the room.

*****

‘No wake.’ Another report for Master Paul of only two words. The cockpit door swirled open and Nahim slid heavily into the co-pilot seat. Master Paul glanced from what he was doing and spoke first,

“Nothing on your end?”

Nahim shook his head.

“Well, you may be glad to hear that with 23’s help I have located Dan Wan’s mother. We are now on course for her home.”

Nahim felt bitter inside, he should have thought of that! A droid, and someone who seemed to know little about kabeltron programs had outdone him! His jaw muscles tightened, he despised the Master even more.

Ayay 7th  found the two Realn under cloudy skies. The muddy, unkempt streets of the southern part of the city Ladance were mostly empty as the two strangers plodded along. The few inhabitants that scurried through the streets were dressed in rags. The broken down and shabby houses, some leaning at dangerous angles, were the only homes that they could afford. Nahim had never seen such poverty in his entire life except once. His heart ached for these people, most of them were families of Nanian War veterans, who were to injured, or to sick to fight or work. Others had lost all to some invasion of their last place, and this was all the money they had saved from their wrecked homes and lives. Orphans, widows, widowers, broken families, they all lived here. A boom and a flash broke the skies and rain water began to roll down his plates of armor. People opened up doors and grimy windows to set out pots and bowls to catch the clear, clean water.

“Sayka” Nahim mumbled under his breath. War-touched.

They stopped at one of the old, dilapidated houses at which the cloaked Master Paul rapped with his armored fist. Almost immediately it was opened by a small Laxdain, who invited them in with haste, seeing their visors. Nahim shook most of the little droplets off his armor as he stepped in the door. It was a  Laxdain girl, who had invited them in. Her thin brown face was beautiful and surprisingly clean. She had the natural facial features of a Laxdain to perfection, large one-shade of forest green eyes that were adorned with no eyebrows, a little bump of a nose, a small thin-lipped mouth and no ears. Her darker brown tentacle hair was held loosely back by one strand of leather. Her old dress of what was originally blue clung tightly to her thin frame.

“Wha do you wonh?” For a Laxdain she spoke moderately well in Trade Tongue.

“We are looking to speak to Dame Binkle.” Master Paul spoke with a kind, gentle voice to the girl, his tone assuring her they were not here for anything other than a visit. The girl led them through a small door where an old brown Laxdain was sitting in the middle of a group of young children. Wide-eyed the children hung on every word as the old dame told an ancient story of a water dragon that used to come out upon rainy days to be seen by all who dared to peep outside in the rain. Even now, some of the children stood upon tippy-toe to look out of the low window that was surprisingly clear, into the plethora of little droplets. As Nahim noticed how clear the window was, he also noticed how clean the entire room was. The faded old rug on which the old dame and the children sat, was free of dirt and dust, the walls were wiped down so that the calming nursery blue would shine through. The old thread-bare pillows that some squeezed must have been carefully hand-washed often. Through the poverty, caring old hands and smooth young hands must have worked tirelessly, not only to care for these little children, but also to clean this little room. After the three had entered, the storyteller had stopped and looked up with her sunken brown eyes, surrounded by wrinkles.

“What would ya be wantin’?” Nahim was almost startled at the fact that she could go from speaking perfect traditional Laxdainian to Trade with the beauty that the majority of Laxdains lack.

“Questions answered, dear Dame, if you may find the time to answer them.” Master Paul showed no hint of surprise in his voice.

Slowly the dame nodded but quickly turned to Nahim as she rose from her seat on the floor, “Ya, quiet one, do ya know Laxdainian?” Nahim nodded. “Then ya will sit here and be tellin’ the children a story while I go with yer friend. No excoosez!” Nahim nodded in assent and as Master Paul left the room with Dame Binkle and the maiden who had answered the door, he seated himself among the little children.

How could anyone resist those little eager faces, with alive and bright eyes, that turned up to meet him! Even on the face of Nahim, there creeped a half-smile under his helmet.

“Tell us about a tale of Laxandir!”

“No, tell us about a tale of the ocean!”

No, no tell us about Ladance!”

Their shrill voices in Laxdainian rose up to greet Nahim. But one little child, not caring that this was not the old woman who looked after them, climbed upon his crossed legs,

“Tell me about your strange people.”

His little voice was sweet and clear, as were his large blue eyes.

“Listen up.” Nahim raised his voice so that all the little one could hear him.

Nahim didn’t have to force any emotion into his voice to make the story lively, for the eager faces that looked up at him with admiration, and the fact that this story was one of his own dear people, pulled him out of his monotone. It was one of the stories of the adventures of the Nayhelm, the first of Nahim’s family. His fight with the sea serpents, how he saved his friend, Kwin Ward, from death, and the meeting of his future wife. They seemed real to the little children, they could see that black-haired black-eyed man of straight stature, with his broad, manly shoulders. They could see his friend, with his blue eyes of the sea and his brown hair that never tamed, but in the sea’s wind. They could see the freckled face and green eyes full of the ember of life of Nayhelm’s Love, with her long hair that forever hung down, they seemed to know all about her and her rebellious ways. For such is the effect of a story from the Realn, a traditional tale of length.

During this long telling, the children had asked him to remove his helmet so that they could, “see the light of your ancestors in your face, as Auntie and Nan do with us.” Nahim would not refuse this request and was glad to find that the children were not frightened by his eyes, rather they took him as part Laxdain since “if your eyes were of one shade and there wasn’t that black dot in the center, you would be like a man version of us.”

Often these little ones would laugh and titter and giggle at Nahim’s accents. They found it amusing to correct him in every little mispronunciation.

Soon the end of the tale came, with an account of Nayhelm’s sweetheart. At this wonderful ending, a little blue child clapped her hands together and smiled.

“And they lived happily ever after! Oh, how beautiful! Aren’t love stories so wonderful!”

A young boy sitting next to her slapped his little chubby hands over his face.

“Girls are so weird! This is embarrassing.”

The facial expression and small slap on the arm from the pretty girl was impossible to resist. Little volcanoes of laughter erupted with shrill shrieks, but one laugh was heard above them all. It was a hearty, healthy, rippling laugh, which was rarely heard. It had not sounded in years, it was Nahim’s laugh. These children were a ray of sunshine that awakened Nahim’s old joy from its long sleep. The little blue child that sat on his crossed legs, lifted his small head from Nahim’s chest to stare into the face as the laughter died away.

“That was a little funnier than your Laxdainian.” –– a giggle exploded –– “Where did you learn?”

Nahim answered with a strange light-hearted merriness in his voice as if he were Mandin. “I had a trainee who was Laxdain. He taught me.”

“Was he like me?”

“Nih, he was green.”

“What’s ‘Nih’?” A little innocent feminine voice from the back of the room asked quietly.

“Nih? It means, how do you say it? No?”

“Wow, one little word means all that!” Another voice shouted out.

“’Nih’ means just ‘No’.”

But the joke had taken flight. Even years later, Nahim got a letter laughing at his mistake, when an important person messed up saying ‘No’. He always gave away his Realn heritage by adding in the occasional Realn word. The only language he could think of that he never added in a Realn word was…Dragonic. And that was only because he had been drilled and drilled in it since he was young and it was like a crime to his teacher if he ever added even the occasional ‘ta’.

It was then that Nahim noticed Master Paul and Dame Binkle watching them from the doorway. Nahim grabbed his helmet and stood up after the Laxdain child slid off his lap, his smile dying from his face. He said his farewells with Master Paul before stepping out into the rain again, to the children’s dismay. With trudging footsteps, the Master and the Young Warrior went back to the Nightmare.

“Are you curious to know what Dame Binkle said, Nahim?”

“You’re not walking fast enough for there to be any leads.”

“You would be right. She has not heard, or seen him for six months. She promised to send word if she saw him after she heard what had happened. Then she switched the conversation to you, actually. She asked how often you used Laxdainian saying, ‘That boy needs to practice more. Oh! What a strong accent! He must get rid of it. And this “yeh”, “nih” and “ta” business! Not to mention that occasional use of “ain”, “o”, “hon” and “i”. But at least he goes well with the youngens.’ Apparently, she runs some kind of orphanage, or day care for those children. She liked you.”

Nahim chuckled, not even his dislike for Master Paul could keep him from this good mood.

“I liked the children, charming little ones and the Dame was a nice old lady.”

“You mentioned you had a Laxdain trainee.”

“I didn’t know you knew Laxdainian.”

“I don’t, but my helmet does. Why did you not use your translator at least when you had your helmet on?”

“They annoy me.”

“Back to the topic, how can you have had a trainee? You’re not even 20 and in your entire history after turning a Young Warrior, you’ve never stayed in the same place for over 2 years.”

“Tony was Tony. He graduated from Milcah’s Training Academy two months after I left. Master Milcah handed me someone with failing grades and told me he was my trainee.”

“Did Tony also teach you that strange language that you write in your journal with?”

“Nih, how did you know about that?”

“Remember I had your journal for a while. When I brought it to Banor I asked one of Lord Nahor’s staff what language it pronounced. She went pale and asked where I had gotten it. I told her, but I was never told what it was. Now I’m askin’ you.”

“Dragonic.”

Nahim said it plainly, but just this word made Master Paul himself almost pale.

“How did you come to know a sacred language?”

“I had friends who knew such things. He took a liking to me.”

“You can…”

“Read, write, and speak it. He drilled me so hard that I don’t even add much of an accent to it anymore! Though it cannot compare to when the Dragons themselves say it.”

“You do realize what that can mean?”

“No, what does it?”

“Saved by the Nayhelm,

Indebted to the Nayhelm,

But in their turn,

They will let our enemies burn.

Roused, roused

Roused by the one who has housed

Their language in his bosom.

Red eyes stare into another

Questions asked together.

When we need them,

They shall appear to the Nayhelm.”

 

“Red eyes doesn’t necessarily mean me, many dragons have red eyes.”

Master Paul wasn’t sure what to think of Nahim’s valid point, the rhyme just came to mind.

“The words of Aden Florana should be heeded.”

 

 

"You need French Toast."
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)

[RAE]

 

CHAPTER 8-AIQA
Nahim tossed his sword handle up in the air and grasped it with his left hand. He pitched it again, twirled it, gripped it, and held it with one finger (or at least tried to, his green sword was hefty). He played with the blue one in his right. Master Paul glanced at the movement in the co-pilot seat.

“You seem to be somewhat of a Change-blast. You do a lot.”

Nahim was in another one of his good, joyful moods, and so, with a quick un-related comment, stated simply,

“I need to get back into my speedeering.”

“Speedering.”

“What is wrong with you Ward? You always pronounce it wrong. Think about it, when you command, you’re commandeering. So why shouldn’t it be speedeering?”

“You’re getting an accent!”

“I always had a Laxorian accent. I just only use it when speaking or correcting correct Nayhelmic.” Master Paul laughed, something about the way Nahim said it made it amusing.

“Listen, when you ride a…a…”

“Leavar.”

“A Lea – What! Those tiny things! You’re out of your mind.”

“Nih, you’ve never been to Laxor if you’ve not seen a true riding Leavar.” Nahim closed his eyes and leaned back in the seat, quitting his sword play. “I can still remember riding them, and their gaits. I can still feel them. I rode them before I could walk, and their call was my first scream. One of the things I miss most about Laxor are the Leavar.”

“I always thought they were six inches tall.”

“Some are, but those you ride can be as tall as the equine!”

“Huh. Well, we shall land on a space station soon. 23 and I must go out to fetch a ‘package’. Some business for Lord Nahor.” Nahim nodded. He tossed his sword in his left to begin his toying again. Thirty minutes later, bored with his swords, he peeked at his gauntlet rapidly. Getting up, he resigned himself to his room until later. When he emerged, Master Paul and 23 were absent. He sighed as he stepped foot outside of the ship in a large hangar. When was the last time he had used those swords for a good purpose? Lately, he had wished he had stayed a trader guard and never gone to the training academy. There were many things he wished he had never done. He wished he had gone against reason and stayed at Laxan. He wished he had searched for Lord Adorian and died with his lord in a hero’s last stand. He wished he had remained a trader guard. He wished he had remained with Tony, his trainee. He wished he was a hero. Nahim never had felt like a hero. He was selfless at times, but he never came under the flag of a true Realn hero. He came from the bloodlines of greats, he even had High Blood, that immortality from the elves, but he never felt like a hero. His feet dragged across the metal hangar’s floor. He was feeling down.

He heard a crash behind him; he swiveled on his heel. A stack of crates had been knocked over. A lone figure rushed from the scene, something hidden in his cloak. A shaft of light burst from the folds. Nahim knew what it was.

“Halte, na nater resteja!” Nahim fell into his native tongue, forgetting no commoner would know his Realn. The figure became aware of the Realn and cast from his hand two small items, brown with glowing yellow seams. Out of mostly instinct, Nahim drew his crystal sword, the blue molten crystal becoming solid before it impacted with a bomb. He sliced it down the center; the only way to disable a Terror weapon. His next slice was meant for the second one, but it fell short. His second try destroyed the detonated bomb. With those out of the way, he ran after the thief, who promptly pulled out a blaster. He fired, missing and hitting the wall of the hangar. This was no blaster, this figure had a high-powered, armor-piercing gungedal! Nahim gained speed and hurtled himself into the thief, both of them hitting the ground. The gun fired again, this time glancing off of Nahim’s shoulder pad. Nahim pushed the hand down at the wrist. With his other hand he wrestled for the crystal.

“Let it go! I worked hard!” Nahim paused as the figure spoke. He pulled off the hood. He had tackled a girl! It didn’t seem fair to tackle someone who was, by nature, not as strong as he. He grabbed the crystal and stood up, letting her keep her gun.

“Thieves work for the wrong reasons.” He could see anger in her face, but she holstered her gun and turned to leave. Nahim grabbed her arm. “Uh-uh. You are going to walk right up to the owner of this Aracite crystal and return it.”

“Are you nuts? He’ll clap me in chains, woman or no.”

“You’re but a girl, I guessing seventeen. Listen Young Warrioress, I think that the man you stole tis from has brown-red beard and hair. Talks with Taraturn accent. He would never clap a girl, who returns what she stole, in irons.” The girl gasped.

“You never saw the theft! How do you know that that was the man? And how do you know he won’t?”

“Never mind. Now scoot, I’ll be right behind you in case you decide to run.” The girl rolled her grey eyes and turned back to where she came from. Nahim returned the crystal to her hands, but kept a hold on her thin arm. They walked behind the Nightmare, to where a large ship waited. Guards ran into them. As they approached, a man of the description Nahim had mentioned earlier, but with olive skin and some distinctive alien features, came towards them.

“You’ve caught her, thank goodness! That’s a rare piece.”

“She has something to say to you.” Nahim nudged the girl forward while letting go of her arm. As soon as he let his hand fall, the girl dashed around a pile of cargo, the exceptional piece in her hands. Nahim dashed after her, again tackling her to the ground. She kicked and thrashed as he restrained her arms.

“I think you need new guards, these current ones are pathetic! Hold still, Warrioress!” Nahim dragged the still-flailing girl to her feet. The teenager tried to punch Nahim in the stomach, in the one strip only covered by Mithweve. The trader took the crystal from the girl, and his guards took her from Nahim.

“Guards are hard to find, ones you can trust, that is.” Nahim nodded in assent to what the trader said. Honesty is a rare jewel of great price.

*****

Master Paul met Nahim as the Young Warrior climbed back into the Nightmare.

“Why was there two Terror bombs around my ship, and where did you go? And why in the Galaxies is there a new dent in your armor!”

“Not much happened.”

“Terror weapons are ‘not much’. Dents in Mithaln are ‘not much’. Well, if those are ‘not much’ than I’ve always had a wrong idea in my mind.”

“Just a silly seventeen-year-old Maiden-Warrioress with a gun, and a stolen crystal, and terror weapons on her belt. Not much. What was your package about?” As soon as he said this, as if a summons, a girl of blue, wearing a gold, turquoise, pink and blue dress strode gracefully forward to where the two Realn were. She had a thin face, adorned with faint makeup that complimented her features and long hair, sent to cascade over her shoulders and back. Her eyes were large and beautiful. Her lips were small and puffy like a child’s. She smiled slightly.

“Nahim, this is Princess Aiqa the Turqin. We are to take her to a safe haven.” The Master turned to the princess and told her Nahim’s name in her own language. When he turned back to Nahim, after a wave to the princess, the Realn answered sharply,

“Fine. Shut down 23 when we get close to the safe haven.”

“Why would I do that?”

“He will be shut down. Remember, droids are vulnerable, like speeders. Safe havens have secrets. Those secrets must be protected with utmost care!”

“A Young warriors place is not to boss around a Master!”

“Well, sometimes they need a second opinion! And maybe a little more wisdom! Which one of us grew up in a safe haven? Who was it that betrayed his safe haven? Was it a babbling Young One? Was it a boasting Young Warrior? No, it was a Master selling out his friends!” Nahim’s hand touched his sword. He felt something warm, and smooth touch his hand. It was the thin-fingered blue hand of the princess. In Turqin she said,

“I don’t understand your language, but I understand your tone. Our enemies are not each other, they are these awful Nanians.” Nahim released his grip on his sword. Taking the princess’s hand; he put his other hand quickly over his heart.

“Forgive me, Aiqa ta Turqin. I should hold my anger for when not in your presence.” Master Paul inhaled and exhaled.

“Nahim, I shall decide what happens to my own property.” Nahim dropped Aiqa’s hand and said in a stern voice, not as pleasant as the one he had just addressed Aiqa with,

“Yaturn si Laxan, florain ta sayka.”

Nahim pushed past the Master and went to his room; Aiqa followed. His back was turned to her, his shoulders heaved once as he took a deep breath.

“What does ‘yaturn si Laxan, florain ta sayka’ mean?” Nahim turned at the innocent question.

“It means, ‘Think of Laxan, blessing the war-touched.’ I forgot to add the ‘to’.”

“How old are you?”

“19. You?”

“I’m 18. Was born in December.”

“Your January.”

“I’m from Turqa and you’re from…”

“Laxor.”

“I’ve heard that that’s currently barren.”

“No, only the Great Grasslands are uninhabited. And a few other places.”

“Are you in a mood for conversation or not? I can’t tell.” Nahim shrugged his shoulders, and offered a seat to the princess on his bunk.

“You sleep on this!”

“I don’t really care.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t feel it through my armor, or at least I don’t have to. I don’t really mind.” Aiqa made a face and then smiled. She had a girlish smile; the type that makes you forgive and forget everything that may offend you, for that smile is so innocent.

“Tell me more about your armor.” – She got up and fingered the edges of Nahim’s journal as it lay on his drawers. – “I’ve heard it’s very special.”

“It is forged Mithaln, in the way it has been forged for thousands of years; since we were first Realn.”

“Why are your gauntlets different?” Nahim glanced down at his armor. It had not been repainted since he had the mormaka incident…or since he had altered the gauntlets. They now had a paintless, neon greenish yellow hue. A sharp contrast to his scanty dark paint and silver metal beneath.

“I…I modified them.” His gauntlets began to glow to a bright neon. Aiqa was entranced by their bright colors. “Don’t touch them; they heat up to 2,860°Celcen.”

“What? And you don’t feel that heat?” Nahim shrugged.

“Mithaln is heat-proof. I could walk through lava and be fine.”

“What happened to the rest of your armor?” Nahim again looked down at himself; he didn’t really look that handsome, at least his armor didn’t. The mormaka had scarred his armor with slashed and jagged-edged dots where silver shone true. There were no scratches, for Mithaln can self-heal from scratches or dents. Even now, the small dent on his shoulder pad had disappeared.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Nahim sounded sore. Aiqa stopped her questions for a minute before asking if she could guess. The reply was simple and still a little sore. “I guess.”

“It is clear by your back, front, and other plates that something with large claws tore at you. There are more marks around your left shoulder and you’re missing your pad there. You tangled with something large. Maybe hurt in the shoulder? That shoulder is a little weaker; you used your right hand to grab your sword and it is lower than the other. How correct am I?”

“Your guesses are correct as far as they go. You are very observant, Mistress Aiqa.” Aiqa slightly hung her head and blushed.

“That got me in trouble.”

“That’s why we’re taking you to a haven?” She nodded. He looked at her face; the look in her eyes seemed to have a sadness. For a moment he laid his fingertips over his heart. “I apologize if I hurt your feelings, Princess.” Aiqa didn’t answer, she just looked up at him; she was beginning to like this Realn.

*****

The days went by slowly. They were constantly in Cubespace and despite the nebulas and stars that flew by, Nahim was finally bored as he stared out of the pilot window from where he sat. He had gotten a new pen for his journal on Tars; he pulled it out. It had a sleek design; different than his old one. As he held it in his hand, he realized that the finger pads were meant for a left-handed person. Oops. His left-hand writing was like a broken spider web.

Entering the room, Aiqa gasped as a beautiful blue nebulae flew past. She gracefully strode forward in the small room; her loose dress flowing with ease. She slid into the pilot seat and stared out at the screen of stars. There she remained until slightly opening her mouth.

“Nah-him?”

“It’s Nay-him. What?”

“What color are your eyes?” The question startled him.

“Why do you ask?”

“I have unique eyes and the first thing I notice about someone is the color of their eyes and I haven’t ever seen your face.”

“They are unique color like yours.”

“May I see them?” Nahim looked into her eyes. Glittery blue with small dashes of purple met him, Aiqa’s smooth light blue sclera was unique to the Turqin kind. Would this dainty princess consider him, like the Laxdain children, as a long-lost part of her kind? Maybe, but Nahim didn’t want to show the still fully visible scar running down the side of his head. Aiqa was easily disquieted; he would not show that ghastly battle memory.

“No.”

“Why not?” She tilted her head, curious.

“Saho sitatel[U1] , as you say.” Aiqa smiled and nodded.

“Will I see them one day?” Nahim rose from his seat, turning to her. He grabbed her hand and placed his fingertips over his heart.

“By my Honor, Mistress Aiqa, you shall one day see my face.”[U2]  Aiqa blushed. Nahim could be so courteous and yet had shown a rash, impulsive side to him in the few days they had been stuck on the Nightmare.

“Oh! Look. Wait, oh, it’s gone. Did you see it? It was a beautiful kaleidoscope of a nebulae!”

*****

A breeze that is gentle and kind comes sweeping down, laughing joyfully as it plays with the grasses and flowers; wrapping them round its finger. It giggles as it weaves in and out of the many leaves to the trees. It stands in awe at the beauty of the flowers; not one dull color to be seen, and fields so full that they are endless miles of color. It laughs again, and sweeps over to the New Place. It marvels at the soft tan walls, the green roof and gate, the courtyard garden. It swipes past to the bubbling fountain, to the flowers of breaking dawn, to the cool shade of the trees. This is paradise. But wait, there is beings it does not recognize. A beautiful girl and the funny armored lady, who patrolled the New Place. A man outside of the gate, with one of those silly things that scuttle around at a fast pace that the Breeze had seen before. And another man, waving an armored hand at the new pretty girl.  “Farewell, Aiqa.” Nahim stood in the white courtyard of the beautiful mansion made for Aiqa. Climbing vine flowers went up the wall, red and pink petals in a whirlpool pattern; red and pink roses. A gentle Breeze lifted up a portion of the princess’s hair. Her thin hand rose.

“Wait! Nahim!”

“Yes?” To his surprise, the lithe princess grabbed his hands and bent her knees in a curtsy without her hands to lift her dress.

“That is a proper farewell for a Turqin.” Nahim, in turn, grasped her hands and bowed his head, as he noticed she had slipped something into the grasp of his fingers.

“Amena yay len florain, Aiqa ta Turqin. It is unique.” Nahim released her hands; he left the gate and got on the speeder behind Master Paul. Aiqa waved and turned to the female guard of hers, also Realn.

“What did he say?”

“May your smile be a – .”

“Blessing, Aiqa ta Turqin.” She smiled, as the speeder left her spring’s green gates, she called out, “On kay thadow whane ahea who, Nahim Realn.” And may a shadow of courage follow you, Nahim the Realn.

Nahim opened his hand. A blue shaft of light burst forth and touched his face before subsiding. It was a solid stone, but it had a patterned look that shifted and changed like water. A thin, yet strong, string passed through a hole bored in the stone. Turqin letters danced on the surface of the ‘water’. Nahim cringed. The Turqin letters read ‘Hold to your promise’. He had forgotten. It not be too long before he would find himself again at Ladara.

[U1]This is basically just a Turqin saying about secrets.
[U2]Oh, Nahim. Of all the stupid things to do!

"You need French Toast."
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)

[RAE]

Tell me if Chapter 7 is missing. Cuz I edited it, and I thought it got deleted so i tried to repost it, but then it said I had already posted it.

"You need French Toast."
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)

[RAE]

CHAPTER 9-THE DEAL
Nahim tapped his foot in the rhythm of the song he hummed. Master Paul leaned back in the pilot seat next to him, maneuvering through a bunch of asteroids before picking up his direction and heading into Cubespace. Nahim suddenly stopped his noise as a bright nebulae passed by with a flash. Master Paul smiled.

“You like nebulae.”

“Yeh, I used to go flying to look into them; to study them. Something about them made me want to glare into their deepest depths.”

“You used to go flying? Why don’t you fly now?” Oh, why did the Master have to remind him! His heart ached to get behind the wheel, to show that skill he had been taught to have from his brother. He could hear laughing in his ears; memories so long ago. Sweet ones. The voices of two blended together in joyful harmony. There was Alin’s; full of youth, a promise of a good future. There was his own; also full of youth, but with no idea what he wanted to be. Alin had more skill in one of his fingers than most have in ten. As soon as he was to turn twenty, he would have been made a Master. It was never to be. Nahim’s face grew solemn as he remembered those words etched on his heart when he was only thirteen: “Don’t worry, Nahim; I won’t take any flowers.” Black. That night, death came to two doors, and one was opened.

“Nih, I will never fly again.”

“Nahim, fears need to be faced and conquered, not let to grow.”

“You weren’t there, either time. You can’t say that!”

“Nahim, try again, you shall conquer. You must.”

“Nih!” The Master read Nahim’s defiance. His fingers changed the cordinence in Cubespace. He left. Not ten minutes later, Cubespace ended. Nahim started upright in his seat. Master Paul was out of his mind if he thought that forcing a Nayhelm to do what he wanted to do was going to work. Before the Nightmare was an entire Nanian fleet; doubtless reported in to Master Paul.

One of them had the unmistakable markings of Vorgan’s own ship.

Nahim fisted his hands; he couldn’t do this. He wished death upon Vorgan, but he knew this was not the way. With speedy fingers, he re-typed a code for Cubespace. He didn’t even wait to be back in that ‘other dimension’; he stepped out of the cockpit where Master Paul waited. His anger rose. “Don’t you dare EVER do that to me unless you want to DIE!” Nahim stormed to his room. Master Paul didn’t see anything of him for more than a day. By this time, he had landed on a moon and pondered with furrowed brows over a book. 23 knocked and entered at the Master’s command.

“Master, Nahim has gone.”

“What!”

“Nahim left. Nahim did not take a speeder.” Master Paul rose and raced to the outside where he faced the forest about 100 feet away. He flipped his visualizer down and scanned the dark trees. It was unlikely that he could get a heat signature, unless Nahim had taken off his helmet, but maybe he could still spot him. Yes, there was something in the trees.

“23, get my speeder.”

*****

Nahim intently stared down on an object in his hands. He removed his helmet and leaned in closer as he moved the thing around in his fingers. His black eyebrows raised; it was clearly of Realn make. It was a tiny leaver toy. Each joint to the long legs worked, each toe could spread its webbing, the long neck could curve, the mouth opened and shut, and the three flaps of skin on the top of its abstract egg head could move too. The eyes stared blankly. The nostrils were small points, not flared; this was not made on Laxor. The descending dorsal bumps didn’t move, and neither did large leaf-like ones on the tail, or the ones on the back of the legs. Remnants of paints still clung to the object.

Nahim sighed. He took the toy and set it in his pack. As he hoisted the pack to his shoulder, he heard a low whine. His hand fisted. With a quick reflex, he drew his blaster. Click. He pulled back the cock. He outstretched his arm and leaned forward for the recoil. He aimed where the sound came from. As soon as Master Paul broke from the foliage, one of Nahim’s shells burst from his gun to lodge itself in the speeder. It flipped ungracefully. Master Paul rolled out from the crash. He shook his head and rose from on his knee as he looked at Nahim. Nahim’s gun was still in his hand.

“Nahim, what’s the matter?”

“You tried to make me fly, do you know the one reason I did what I did? It was because you saved my life!  A favor for a favor. Otherwise I would have let us be blown to pieces, or worse take the controls! Listen, I have no step zones and when those barriers are broken – .”

“Nahim, have you listened to yourself over the past weeks? When I first met you, you were as taciturn as I’ve ever met. As soon as I said the first word, the conversation was over. Now, you speak freely, too freely. You are angry with me. You are angry with the world, because when you needed help, they weren’t there. The Ward never came to save your family, no one came to help you when you needed it most, and no one has helped you out of the pit of Sadness, Pride, and Mistrust. Where you haven’t looked is Up. If you looked down at the dirt that is under our feet, it would be depressing. Nothing beautiful, nothing breathtaking. But if you look up…” Instinctively, Nahim looked up with the Master. His hand wavered. He holstered his gun. A gentle breeze rocked the treetops above, but the tree above them, was the most purely white he had ever seen. Tree limbs, smooth and fair, with little leaves of Spring’s green, held out many little white flowers, purer than the white clouds of Wond, fairer than the face of a fairy. Little yellow dots graced the center like little specks of gold. Unbidden, a sweet scent filled his nostrils. It seemed to go into his heart, the scent of something heavenly, unexplainably heavenly.

Unknowingly to Nahim, there was a wide smile on Master Paul’s face as he saw the features of this young man, so much like his son, relax.

“Nahim, Up is where our focus should always be, for there is where the only Hope is.” Nahim looked at him, and almost smiled.

“Do you want to know why I don’t fly?”

“Well, it is a natural thing for a human to be curious.”

“My second oldest brother died while teaching me to fly. I tried once more after his death once I had recovered, but I froze in the pilot seat. Crashed and almost killed some other people. I will only ever fly again if need presses so hard that it is suffocating.”

“I understand. Wounds become scars and scars become stories, but they never truly are forgotten.”

“I still haven’t got to the ‘stories’ part.” Nahim dropped his sack off his shoulder and walked over to the broken speeder. He looked at the hole he had made, it wasn’t that bad. “I can fix it so that you can get back to the Nightmare, but 23 shall have to service it after that.”

“I’ll make a deal with you if you’ll come back.” Nahim busied himself with fixing the speeder, but he nodded. “You stick around until we catch Dan Wan, and then I shall let you go wherever. I feel a sense of Duty to keep an eye on you, Lord Nahor said he didn’t want the ‘last of a valiant clan to disappear.’ In a sense, you’re one of my personal missions. Well, what do you think?”

“Deal.” Nahim looked at the Master and, this time, half-smiled. That was the first smile Master Paul had ever seen directed towards himself.

“Now all we have to do is find out where Dan Wan has gone, easy.” Master Paul gave a low sarcastic chuckle. Nahim stopped his work and glanced down at his gauntlet.

“That would be Gastel, in a system after this one, actually.” Master Paul gave Nahim an eyeless glare.

“You knew all the time?”

“No, I just got the tracker number earlier this tai.”

“How did you…?”

“I have my connections.” Nahim finished up his repairs and put his helmet on. “Oh, and Master Paul, I… apologize for my anger, these last Taie.”

“All is forgiven and then forgotten.” Master Paul smiled and motioned Nahim to take a place on the speeder. Together, Master and Young Warrior, returned to the Nightmare. And all that had happened previously was forgotten. All but the hunt for the Laxdain.

 

"You need French Toast."
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)

[RAE]

Take your time reading, I just wanted to post them and get feedback so i know how to change them

"You need French Toast."
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)

[RAE]

PRONUNCIATIONS
Note: pronunciations are in alphabetical order rather than by revelance.

Of characters:

Aiqa _ Aye-quh

Akin _ Aye-kin

Alin _ Aye-lin

Azio _ Ah-zee-oh

Budeca _ Buh-deck-ka

Canin _ Cane –in

Gaygarum _ gey-gar-rum

Ginja _ Gin-juh

Grostoff _ Grew-stof, staff with an ‘o’

Hallia _ Hall-ee-uh

Jonas _ Joe-nas

Knihan _ Knee-hon or Knee-han, either one is correct.

Kwinton _ Quinn-ton

Larin _ lar-inn

Mandi _ Man-dee, old nickname

Mandin _ Man-din

Milcah _ Mill-kuh

Nahim _ Nay-him do not pronounce as nah-him

Nahor _ Nay-hore

Olvos _ Ol-vos, rhymes with ‘gross’

Oma Dorthee _ Oh-ma Dorth-ee

Owemn _ Since this name is mentioned first, it is referring to Zach’s father, therefore in tis book it is pronounced as o-wem-on. If it was his mother, it would be pronounced o-wen-en.

Quak _ As in the noise ducks make

Uhkin _ Uh-kin, not aye-kin

Vorgan _‘Morgan’ with a ‘V’

 

 

Of creatures:

Leavar _ Lee-eh-var, or ‘Leah’ with a ‘var’ on the end

Mormaka _ Mor-muh-ka, may add accent onto the ‘ka’

Tigros _   Tie-gr-os, not pronounced as tie-gross. Yes, they are based off of tigers, not exactly the same.

 

 

Of peoples:

Addawnai _ Add-dawn-ay, a powerful, magical people of Wond.

Laxdain _ Laxe-dane

Nanian _ Nan-ee-en

Nayhelm _ Nay-hel-m

Realn _ Ree-eln, do not pronounce as ‘realm’

Shyiad _ Shy-add

Snapa – Snap-puh

Turqin _ Ter-quin

 

 

Of places:

Alick _ Uh-lik or Aye-lik depends upon who is saying it.

Archack _ Are-cha-k

Asraafoolto _ Ass-ruh-fool-toe

Banor _ Bane-ore

Cacoonadusau _ ka-koo-na-doo-saw, try saying that ten times fast.

Caelawond _ Say-la-wond

Danoo _ Dan-oo, a solar system well known for trade

Dathgool _ Dah-th-gool

Dolant _ Doe-lawnt

Kwin _ Realn version of the English, ‘Quin’.

Laxan _ Lax-en

Laxor _ Lax-ore

Madala _ Muh-da-la

Orhoo _ Ore-choo, like ‘achoo’ with ‘ore’ instad of ‘a’

Quoosh _ Think of koosh with a ‘qu’

Rea _ Ree-uh

Taraturn _ Terra-turn

Turqa _ Ter-qua

Wond _ Won-d, the planet where the Realn originated, as well as other peoples.

 

 

Of random things that have no other place:

Aracite _ Air-ra-site

Cadu _ kuh-doo

Diala _ Die-eh-la

Galaxos _ Gal-lix-oes

Lahoom _ La-whoo-m

Leahae _ Leah-hay

Nadu _ na-doo

 

 

Of real beings:

Ehyeh _ Eh-yeh, blow out on the h’s

Ru _ Roo. Sometimes called Ruee, roo-ee.

 

 

Of Wondian terms:

Banorian _ bane-ore-ee-an, anything belonging to the planet Banor.

Gungedal _ Gun-geh-dall, dwarvish word. Abbreviated as ‘gun’.

Laxorian _   Lax-ore-ree-en, anything that belongs to the planet Laxor.

Mith _ A class of Realn ships. Pronounced as ‘myth’. Mith in Realn means ‘strength’.

Mithaln _ Myth-all-n, known as Realn Steel to many peoples who are not Realn

Mithweve _ Myth-wev, the cloth worn under and in-between the armor. Known as the Secret Cloth to outsiders of the Realn.

Nayhelmic _ Nay-helm-ik: a term used by the Nayhelm almost exclusively.

Speedering: The art of using a speeder. Speeder: a hovering craft that can carry from one to five persons depending on model. They are often fast and streamline, many times going up to the speeds of an Earthling’s jet plane.

GLOSSARY
Note: Realn Terms are in alphabetical order rather than revelance.

Realn terms…                 Meaning…

 

Captain’s faith                                    Faith like no one else

 

Change-blast                                      Someone who can do many different things. A Change-blast is a dragon of two or more different dragon abilities in one.

 

Dragon Crash                                     Not good

 

Jonas trick                                          Hiding or running away

 

No wake                                              No trace

 

Seen the fire                                       More experience

 

Shooting simple                                 Straight forward

 

Sometimes there’s a ricochet              Sometimes it’s not so easy

 

Their call was my first cry (cry or scream)                            Destined to be with a certain creature

 

Wing it to win it                                   One chance

 

 

 

Ages…

 

GA-Stands for Galaxy Age. It’s like the earthling’s ‘AD’ or ‘CE’.

 

 

Realn spelling…

Skwads-pronounced as ‘squads’, and indeed, this is the word ‘squads’. Realn have no ‘q’, it is replaced with ‘kw’ with no ‘u’ after it. For accuracy, I chose to use this spelling, as well as it gives you that other-worldly experience, drawing you into Realn culture. I do not spell the name Aiqa as ‘Aikwa’ because she is Turqin. If I were to have her name translated from Realn runes, however, I would spell it as a Realn.

 

Celcen degrees…

2,860° Celcen is equal to 2,900°F or 1,593°C.

 

 

 

 

NOTES ON THE REALN
PIECES AND STATEMENTS OF THEIR LANGUAGE…

 

“Wenbor! Ance a ta yrge! Wenbor a na eotle!” _ TRANSLATE: “Traitor! Friend of the foul creatures! Traitor to your people!”

“Halte, na nater resteja!” _ TRANSLATE: “Halt! You are under arrest!”

Realn ranks…

Private _ tule/swipe

Corporal _ eilf/two swipe

Sargent _ drit/three swipe

Lieutenant _ fier/four swipe

Captain _ itan/five swipe

Major _ wesent /six swipe

Colonel _ bierst /seven swipe

General _ Master

Stars are the ‘rank within rank’.

 

Realn dialogue notes…

Concerning tai

The reader may have noticed that every once in a while I spell the word for a Realn, Wondian week ,Tai, as Taie. The answer to this inconsistency is simple, plural form. Realn do not add ‘s’ to make their plural form, nor do they create new words for their plural form, (English, goose and geese) but rather, the Realn add an ‘e’ onto any word to make it plural. Even for words such as mienae (mountain) they add an ‘e’.

 

Concerning Dame, maiden, and Maid…

Dame is a term for a married woman, whether widowed, or not.

Maiden is one who has never married.

Maid is someone who is either-or.

 

Concerning the statement, “Dathgool, if you asked a Realn, would be defined as the ‘eternal fire where thirst is never quenched and the face of Ehyeh is unseen and unloved.’”

‘Unseen’ does not mean God is not there. Here, the Realn use the term ‘unseen’ in the sense of unable to be saved. Also the reason I say ‘where the thirst is never quenched’ comes from the story of the Rich Man and Lazarus. If you remember, the Rich Man asked Abraham if Lazarus could give him but a drop of water for his tongue.

Concerning blasters, guns, and gungedals…

You probably have noticed that I use both the words ‘blaster’ and ‘gun’. I do not use them interchangeably for to a Realn, they are two separate things. A blaster shoots blasts of energy while a gun shoots an actual bullet. You also may have noticed I do not have a Realn word for gun. That is because the word is actually a Wondian dwarf name of ‘gungedal’. The Realn have adopted this word since the dwarves were the ones who developed the first gun. Technically, ‘gun’ is an abbreviation. Guns are considered better than blasters since the bullets used can pierce armor, though not Realn armor.

"You need French Toast."
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)

[hybridlore]

@rae

Okay, phew! Finally caught up. And yeah, Chapter 7 isn’t showing up for me… so I guess I’m not, lol.

The biggest things I noticed were again, really long paragraphs. I think it would be easier to read if you split them up, but it’s up to you.

And long sections of dialogue without tags, like this:

“You can…”

“Read, write, and speak it. He drilled me so hard that I don’t even add much of an accent to it anymore! Though it cannot compare to when the Dragons themselves say it.”

“You do realize what that can mean?”

“No, what does it?”

I just get confused sometimes in places like that where there is no “Nahim said” or even a movement like “The master rubbed his forehead”. I’m not sure if other people notice this, or if it’s just me.

And occasionally I’d see a paragraph where it seemed more like telling instead of showing, but really it just depends on your style and I think for this story, you can get away with more telling because of the narrating style.

I didn’t notice anything else major, more just wording and nitpicky stuff, so great job so far! I’m loving the sort of omniscient narrator thing, it’s giving me Wingfeather Saga vibes. Like the narrator is a scribe recording the events so far.

And the worldbuilding is really good, too! It goes into so much detail about the races and different planets and customs, so that’s really great! The only bad thing I would say about having so much description about each thing is it can be confusing, so just be aware of that.

Anyway, great job so far!

Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. ~ C.S. Lewis

[RAE]

Okay, here’s chapter 7

CHAPTER 7-THE INVESTIGATONS
The suns were bright and shining over Ladance as two Laxdains came walking together through the dusty streets. One was taller, dressed in red coarse, but durable, clothing with a powerful blaster strapped to his side, from his thigh to his knee. The other was shorter, but with tailored and comfortable clothes, and a large package under his arm. He walked as if he could have no care in the world, with a smaller blaster type swinging loosely from his side. The two brown aliens stopped at the same run-down house that Master Paul and Nahim had been to just a day earlier. They did not knock, but went straight in, to the sound of Dame Binkle’s voice saying above the noise of the playing children,

“Lada, is that you?”

“No, mother it is me, and Dan is here too.” The one in red answered.

With hurried footsteps and directions to the children, the old Laxdain came to her only two sons, with a warm embrace for both. They smiled together and shared some words as Dan handed his mother the package he had brought but then came a shrill voice over all the others from the children.

“Him, the Ree-all-n, him! Not––”

Dan’s eyes flashed at his mother.

“Who has been here?”

The dame’s sad brown eyes met those of her oldest son.

“So they are hunting you? Dan, what happened?”

“A Realn got in the way and in self-defense I shot him. What’s so wrong with that? I was trying to save myself. But instead of understanding, the Conquering Knights of the Galaxy hunt me? I thought they were supposed to be just, I only wounded him.”

“Dan, I was told that that Realn died later from his wound because you hit him so between his armor plates.”

“Died? I didn’t know, Mother. I didn’t mean to.”

Wood looked at his brother, afraid that Dan would be killed for the accident. The murder of a Realn was never taken lightly.

The two brothers only stayed a few hours before disappearing to maybe never return until all blew over. Mother Binkle had promised to tell Master Paul if they came, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it now. With a sigh, she turned back to the children. She wouldn’t ever tell on her own son.

*****

Nahim dashed into Master Paul’s room, startling the Master as he pondered over a book, a thing Nahim had learned that he often did.

Nahim had also learned that he didn’t like being disturbed when he did so.

“Nahim, you should know it’s polite to knock.”

“You should know I’ve located a possible position for Dan Wan,” Nahim retorted with his now-common defiance.

“Don’t ever burst into my room like that again.”

“Okay, okay––”

“No, not ‘okay, okay’. It is a ‘Yes, Master.”

“I’m not your trainee.” Anger boiled in Nahim’s veins.

“Maybe not, but you are still a Young Warrior and I am still a Master. Didn’t your mother or father ever teach you such things?”

“Don’t bring them into this!”

“Nahim, the correct way to refer to a Master over you is a ‘yes, Master.’”

“Maybe you are not over me. You forget, I am a Nayhelm, no Ward. There is no emperor, no rope that ties clan to clan with an unbreakable bond.”

“You forget your family history, were not Nayhelm and the Ward considered blood brothers?”

“And where were our Blood Brothers when we died!”

Master Paul calmed his tone. “We can’t be everywhere.”

“You only missed being an Original Clan and living on Rea by a couple centuries! You have always been more than ten times as big as my people! And yet you couldn’t even spare enough Ward Guardians to save us!” The right hand un-fisted and brushed the side of his newly-purchased Realn gun, forgetting that it was not his sword that hung there.

“Nahim, you don’t want to fight me.”

Nahim’s heart was pounding in his chest; he could hear its quick beat in his ears. He realized that this feeling rising from his heart towards this man, who had done no more to him than show up at the wrong time, was akin to the hate he felt towards his enemies. Yet before him was a Realn, and no thief with the condemning evidence of a glowing crystal in his hands. This was a fellow Warrior, not one of the allies of Vorgan. Before him was a man he should respect, not one that he should duel. He cooled his anger, it was not here that he should let it unleash. Nahim yielded. “Yes, Master.”

“What is it you found?” Nahim’s anger was forgotten and thrown to the winds of long-gone history.

“Dan Wan has done a transaction. We have to go to…” The voice trailed off.

“Where?” Master Paul set aside his book, forgetting to replace his marker. A loud click, click, click, click, was repeated over again as Nahim tapped his thigh, pinky to pointer. Then his armored hand turned to a fist.

“Dolant.”

“Good, has 23 set course?”

“I set course. Droids, whether Realn or no, are like a speeder; they are vulnerable. I wouldn’t trust a droid with my life, leave alone another’s.”

“Who would you trust your life, and others lives, to?”

“Not you. I will stick around and do my own dangerous business, but if you trust droids, I can’t trust you.”

“You trust speeders.”

“I said speeders are vulnerable; I didn’t say anything else. Do you want to know where on Dolant Dan is?”

“Where?”

“Southern oceans. A small trading colony lives there.”

“And how did you find the location of Dan Wan?”

“That would be my own business. He and his brother are right now doing some ‘honest’ work with traders at a loading dock. I’ve been there before, the cat walks are nice and rickety.” Nahim paused as he remembered himself running down those cat walks with the old things shaking with every step he took. He also remembered how he fell through a rusted hole.

“And why are the catwalks rickety?”

Nahim felt suddenly bored at his conversation. “No idea.” He turned to head for the door but looked over his shoulder to say, “We arrive in six hours.”

“Wait! I thought you didn’t fly.”

“There’s something called autopilot. Fixed autopilot.” The door closed behind Nahim, he relaxed his shoulders in the hallway, before unhooking his blue sword with one swift motion from his left hip. He looked at the scratched engravings on the handle, showing this was no Mithaln piece. Names, dates, times, his memories of being a trader guard came to his mind and with them, the sinking of his heart that he always had. He felt like the true traitor to his lord. Why had he not tried to find where his lord was? Why had he not died with a glorious last stand with his Lord Adorian? Why had not his name been lost to time with no one to remember him except as ‘a Nayhelm’? This was not the life that Nahim would have chosen for himself, but it was his destined life. For some reason, Nahim was to be remembered; for some reason, he had the feeling that he was to somehow be a hero. But he had not been. To a Realn, they hold to heart the saying “A hero is the one who bleeds.” A Realn hero is the one who pays the price so another may go free. But Nahim didn’t feel like a hero; he didn’t feel like a Nayhelm. With a sigh, Nahim hung his sword to his belt and walked swiftly down the hallway.

*****

 

Red faded into orange. Orange seeped into yellow. Yellow changed to green. Rimmed with turquoise shores, Dolantling water lapped at the smooth edges of a lone island. Pale orange in hue, sparse flowers with no leaf nor stem, dotted the island. The only inhabitants were traders, workers, and buyers. The only buildings were for those of inns, worker-housing, ports, trade stands, warehouses and one barrack for the only law-enforcement. Asraafoolto was set in a strategic location in the center of all five of Dolants major continents, and was a favorite spot for Dolant’s trade.

Nahim was in a quiet state of alertness as he and Master Paul climbed from the Nightmare. They were at the large landing space, which led to the port where Dan Wan worked. Master Paul suddenly halted and turned to Nahim,

“Are you getting a large heat reading?”

Nahim didn’t even bother to run his own heat reading program; he knew what was up.

“Dolant’s water gives off a heat reading.”

Master Paul shrugged and continued. Nahim tuned his ear to the noises round him; he knew from past experience that this was a place where you couldn’t trust even the ground you stood on. Clanking boots banged upon the solid metal landing platform. Red water lapped at the shores, creating a slapping sound. Conversations in different languages. Tramping of feet. Creaking of machinery. Rumble of vehicles. Drone of speeders. A crash of something. Shouts! Nahim’s head jerked to where he heard the angry voice. He let his rigged body go relaxed and calm again. It was nothing more than a child who had knocked over a man’s wares. They were now descending the steps. Master Paul made a straight line for the manager’s office, but Nahim walked on. He looked about him, at the goods being unloaded, at the workers who loitered or actually did their job. He looked above him, and his breath was taken away. It was a whole other world up there! The old catwalks Nahim remembered were now sidewalks going to buildings suspended in the air, with no supports. Now he wished he had been in the cockpit when they arrived. It would have been a beautiful sight! The bottoms of the sidewalks were clear like glass, the slanted roofs of the buildings were tinted colors of the same glass-like substance. The other surfaces had a wood grain or a bamboo pole accent.

Staring up, he saw a mid-tone brown Laxdain, loitering on a square deck-like portion. The Laxdain seemed to shriek as their gazes met. Nahim’s eyes turned to slits, his muscles tightened. It was Dan Wan. Nahim glanced around, but he could see no way of getting up to where Dan Wan was. Nahim had no jet pack. By the time that Master Paul was fetched, Dan Wan had disappeared.

*****

Tars. A moon that has no such thing as water, and no such thing as a non-populated area. There are also a few other things that does not exist of this small moon, like Wondian air. Nahim made that mistake within the first few seconds of landing of this moon on which he had never been. Immediately, it felt like a fire had been lit inside his lungs. He coughed as he grabbed his chest. Master Paul rapidly reached to the lip of Nahim’s helmet and pressed the air lock. Inside, Nahim’s helmet blared red. It had noticed the gas and quickly vented it out, giving Nahim clean human air to breathe. His coughing subsided. Master Paul gently asked if he was alright. Nahim nodded and straightened himself. That was an episode he would never like to repeat.

“You could have damaged your lungs doing that.”

“Never…been on Tars.”

“Run a check through you lungs. If we need to, we can leave to get your lungs corrected.”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Good.” They stepped down to where 23 stood with two of their speeders ready. Nahim mounted one with the ease of walking. He leaned far forward in one of the most perfect speeder forms Master Paul had ever seen. He looked like a racer. He sped forward before Master Paul was even in his own position. He did a figure-eight, spun around a few times and then followed Master Paul in a straight line towards another part of the city.

The only people not wearing breathing masks were some of the ones that walked from building to building in glass tubes. I must mention that the buildings were spirals on end. They went to one of these buildings but to near the bottom. The sign read “Destiny Speeder rental and store”. Nahim had noticed that many signs said something like this with “Purpose so-and-so” or “Fortune this-and-that” or “Fate” or “Future”. One was even “Eternity Designs, make life meaningful with our exquisite pieces.” He had the feeling this was a culture in which they thought often about the Afterlife.

Realn are conscious about where they shall go after they die. Destiny is often mentioned. The future often prepared for. When you are a Warrior, you are often conscious of death. Even to Nahim, only 19 years old and considered but a child in Realn life times, even he has heard that thudding knock on the door of his life. It is the belief of the Realn that there is an Afterlife, but of two kinds. In Realn, they are called Caelawond and Dathgool, you might know them as Heaven and Hell. Caelawond is described throughout the culture of Realn as the ‘glorious presence of Ehyeh, Forever.’ Dathgool, if you asked a Realn, would be defined as the ‘eternal fire where thirst is never quenched and the face of Ehyeh is unseen and unloved.’ Dathgool translates to ‘dark pit’ or ‘hopeless pit’. Caelawond means ‘glory home’. Oh, dear reader, do you believe that God has shattered death, that he has paid the price of the sin that we have committed against him? Do you believe with the Realn that being ‘good’ is not good enough? He was wounded for your transgressions, He was bruised for your iniquities, He died a death fit for the worst of sinners, but He was the only one who had never done wrong. Jesus is the conquering Prince, the Hero we have rejected. The littlest sin condemns each of us to the price of death and Dathgool, but cling to the cross, bloodstained, put your feet upon the rock of the resurrection, Miracle of the world, your faith in Jesus, friend to all, and your heart in the hands of the One who knows best.[U1]

At first they stepped into a chamber before the door so that the much-needed air would not escape from the building. Though Master Paul cautioned Nahim that the ‘air’ inside the buildings was again, not breathable by Wondians. Inside, it seemed the opposite of outside, white light instead of yellow, coolness instead of heat (as a Realn, they would not feel the heat, but they knew from their temperature gauges that it was a hot day), peace instead of bustle. A short little old woman came to meet them; her friendly pudgy face kindly smiled in greeting.

“What may I do for you, sirs? I am Oma Dorthee. If you are here to buy or rent you may look around and talk to me. If you’re here on some other business or have any questions to do with technical things, please talk to Mistress Ginja. Her father is away, so if you want to speak to him, come back in two weeks.”  Nahim was caught off guard by her voice. She had a voice that could belong to the most beautiful young woman you can imagine, but with a ring of gentle kindness like that of a loving grandmother. She wore no breathing mask, so I use the word “woman” incorrectly. She was humanoid (probably 70 percent of all Wond Galaxy aliens are humanoid in one way or another) with hooded eyes that were brown with dots of yellow. Her skin was a pine green and her hair was not in a normal Wondian sense ‘hair’, but instead a solid piece of skin-like formation that went straight down behind her back and was a pink-tinted brown.

“We are here to ask questions which, I believe, fall under the work of Mistress Ginja.” A brave soul Oma seemed to be, for when Master Paul made his statement, she showed no hint of fear. A woman who could stand in front of a Realn twice as tall as her, and not cower even the slightest bit, was either a rebel, or had courage.

Oma Dorthee nodded and was about to call for Ginja when the lady herself appeared. She also was a native, but her skin was pale olive-tan and her ‘hair’ the color of ground ginger spices. Orange freckles went over the bridge of her nose in a straight line. Her eyes were the same as the older woman. She was considerably taller than Oma Dorthee, and leaner. She was a strong, handsome looking woman, who had a look in her eye of the type unafraid to throw a punch at anyone who crossed the line of sense. She looked like a Realn woman with that gleam.

“Oh, Mistress Ginja, I was about to call for you. These gentlemen wish to speak to you.” With that, Oma Dorthee resigned herself to the next room from which Ginja had just emerged.

“What do you want?”

“I was going to ask about a rent made by a Laxdain. He used the name of Heck An Doon, but his digital payment was for another Laxdain, one we are after. Could you please tell us if he mentioned anything about where he was going and if there is anyway to track him?”

“What did this Laxdain look like?”

Master Paul unhooked a hologram piece from his belt. The full-color projection came from a picture Nahim had pulled from an Underworld site.

“No, that’s not the one who rented the speeder. The one who rented it was a little darker brown and his eye shape was totally different! I remember him because he had the strangest voice! Speaking of voice, why are you so quiet?” She looked directly to Nahim, who seemed to not be paying much attention to Master Paul’s work, but rather, was looking at the displayed speeders. He didn’t hear the last sentence addressed to him. Ginja crossed her arms, showing she had six-fingered hands. “Well? Say something.”

Nahim looked at her and cocked his head to one side. “You have on display the Lightning-sped 3703LSM model #75, year 1253 by your solar system calendar. Only 100 were ever produced, war broke out that year. Collector’s item.” Ginja uncrossed her arms and seemed to glow with pride.

“You’re one of the few to know what that is without asking, and the only Realn ever, I’m sure! My father bought that years ago when I was just a little girl. The fellow had no idea how rare the item he had was. How did you know?”

“5 were destroyed in a ship accident in late 10,015. I was there.”

“10,015?”

“Oh, 13…1310 by your calendar.”

“Shame, the price for them has gone up to 1,200,000 Galaxos in last year.”

“Well, they are LSM. From a name-brand like that, not too surprised. I am surprised you don’t keep it more closely guarded.”

“Oh, we do. You just can’t see it because it ruins the perfect look of the shop. Sorry, I couldn’t be more helpful.” She stopped and then turned to Master Paul. “May I see that picture again?” The Master nodded. After a closer look, the woman looked up at the Realn with attentive eyes. “The talk about the 3703LSM put my mind in gear. There was an attempted theft by two Laxdains of the item. They were caught by a crowd outside. One got away, the other was being held, but escaped last night. Sorry.”

“You mentioned the one who came here was a darker brown, did he happened to wear a scarlet scarf embroidered with an emblem?”

“I don’t know, you’d have to talk to Oma. Oma!” The older woman quickly appeared, as if she had been listening just behind the door. Master Paul repeated his question.

“What emblem?”

“Two winged equines, two horns upon their heads. One would be black, the other would be white, clashing in combat. The words, ‘thadow cour’ over top.”

“Ah, Ues! Now I remember. Ues, he had the emblem. I didn’t recognize it at first when you said so since it was wrapped ‘round his head, but the emblem was placed respectfully squarely upon his forehead.”

“Then it was the brother of Dan Wan who came. I thank you for your time and your help. Farewell.” Ginja smiled at Nahim as they turned to leave; Oma Dorthee waved a quick good-bye.

“Come again anytime!”

*****

It was one of the rare times that Nahim had ever seen Master Paul upset.

“Six taie! Six taie, and still we do not have Dan Wan! It bothers me Nahim. It has never taken me this long to find someone from a culture such as his! Have you found anything?” Nahim’s metal fingers tapped the keys, his eyes darting over the screen. For once, he was working with the help of 23, dumping and loading new programs at twice the speed he had ever done before. It was Master Paul’s idea, and it was one of the few times Nahim agreed to “try it until proven to not work.”

“We removed the snip, since you were getting stuff that could not possibly be all true. Now, we’re going through files. We found out that they boarded a public transport for Yayyps. From Yayyps they booked for Quoosh, but there has been no evidence of them ever getting there. The flight was hours late. Hold on… Oh, hey 23 can you open a dimensional map of Upyps Transport Public Landing? Thanks.” Standing up, Nahim pulled with his fingers at the three-dimensional map. He zoomed in upon the landing platform, on the side where they would be normally unloaded. “Give me Yesterday, at 15 hundred. 16 hundred. Yes, there you go Master Paul, two Laxdains we know and no other passengers coming off with them. 16 hundred 5. The ship has gone. Four hour delay on the flight because they took a detour. 23 did the math for me. Also, Upyps has had some Underworld activity in the past.”

“Are they currently at Upyps?”

“Nih, unfortunately they bought a private ship and left the atmosphere not 28 hours ago. No way to track them. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’ll report to Lord Nahor.” With that, the Master left the two to keep looking.

Even over hologram, the lord’s mature features of beyond his years, showed and projected a leader. His gaze was stern, but oddly, there was a slight twitch to his mouth, as if he would break into a smile.

 

[U1]Okay, this all came from the heart, but is it preachy?

"You need French Toast."
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)

[RAE]

@hybridlore

Oh! you didn’t have to read the entire thing today!!! Oh, well.

The biggest things I noticed were again, really long paragraphs. I think it would be easier to read if you split them up, but it’s up to you.

Yeah, I’ve only gotten to chapter four with my paragraph revisions

What did you think of the scene in The Deal? Ya, know, this part…

“You tried to make me fly, do you know the one reason I did what I did? It was because you saved my life!  A favor for a favor. Otherwise I would have let us be blown to pieces, or worse take the controls! Listen, I have no step zones and when those barriers are broken – .”

“Nahim, have you listened to yourself over the past weeks? When I first met you, you were as taciturn as I’ve ever met…

Do you think it ended nicely?

"You need French Toast."
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)

[hybridlore]

@rae

I thought it ended really well, I liked the mentor-y moment with Master Paul! I didn’t really understand what Cubespace was entirely, so the whole incident confused me a little.

I think Master Paul asked Nahim to fly the ship, but Nahim said no, so the Master left him there on the controls? And then Nahim stabilized it and went to yell at him?

That was what I understood… but I’m sure I messed something up. What is Cubespace?

Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. ~ C.S. Lewis

[hybridlore]

@rae

Oh and the paragraph about heaven and hell didn’t seem too preachy. I mean, I think it’s fine to have it in there since it was really short. Great job on the description of that, too! I think it works well.

Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. ~ C.S. Lewis

[RAE]

@hybridlore

Have I ever mentioned I really like your forum signature.

I thought it ended really well, I liked the mentor-y moment with Master Paul! I didn’t really understand what Cubespace was entirely, so the whole incident confused me a little.

I think Master Paul asked Nahim to fly the ship, but Nahim said no, so the Master left him there on the controls? And then Nahim stabilized it and went to yell at him?

Nahim has not flown since he was fourteen, and he has no plans on doing it now. Nahim is a defender mostly, he’s always got his friend’s back, and never has liked seeing innocents killed. So for him crashing and almost killing people last time he flew, that’s a big deal. Meanwhile Master Paul likes to push so you grow, putting that together is what you get in that scene.

Nahim wanted to fly, he wanted to fight, but he couldn’t cuz he knew (or thought he knew) what would happen if he did. He instead opened Cubespace, which is like another dimension.

In Cubespace, you can travel faster than light, but there are no side effects, you can see everything flying past in a blur or just fast depending on how fast you want to go. The only thing that tells you for sure you are in Cubespace, are cubes that you see around you. It’s hard to explain.

Think hyperspace, but more original, and that’s all I can say. It’s a way to travel fast.

Then Nahim leaves the cockpit and yells at Master Paul, before going to his room. Then he basically runs away.

Nahim does fly later on, to save the life of Mandin, but that’s getting ahead of the story.

 

"You need French Toast."
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)

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