Seven Years Part 2

Thanks to no one for reviewing the first part of the story *gives wry grin* I know it's not monday, but the last entry was fairly short, so I am adding early. Please go back and read it from the begining, or at least the last little bit. R&R everyone... half the reason I do this is so I can get people thoughts.


The cave’s interior was dark, so Shiek quickly began to light the small lamp that stood on the round table in the center of the room. She had barely lit the wick before her companions began to troop in.

“Not good…” came Toran’s voice as he tramped in, feet punishing the ground with unnecessary violence. “Third mission blown in as many weeks… anyone would think we are trying to get caught!”
“It couldn’t have been helped,” Scela replied, walking over to a large chest on the far side of the room, “somehow they knew we were coming. We should take pride that we got as far as we did, and be grateful that we made it out alive.”

Toran shook his head wearily as he sank into a chair, placing his katana on the table.
“Maybe so, but that was way too close. That Dark Knuckle was a freaking monster! I’ve never seen anything swing an axe like that! No offence, Draq…”
Draq gave a wry grin and collapsed into one of the stiff, wooden chair in the room. He let his long axe slip to the floor and began to massage his throbbing temples. Toran ran a hand through his lanky dirty-blond hair and glanced over to Shiek. He started, concern flashing in his hazel eyes. “Oh my goddess! You alright Shiek!?!”
She nodded and pulled down the cloth from her face, trying to give an unconcerned smile. From the wince that crossed Toran’s face, she figured she must look pretty bad.
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as it looks Toran… don’t worry about it.”

Scela looked up from the chest he had been putting his equipment in and made a face.
“I’m not so sure that’s the case, Shiek. Let me take a look.” The team’s archer, and aspiring medic, crossed over to her and forced the reluctant patient to take a seat. Scela had been apprenticed to the old scientist out on Lake Hylia before joining Shiek’s band, and had learned many things during his brief time with the land’s master potion maker. He was the youngest member of the team, barely seventeen years of age. He had the same jet black hair as his older brother Draq, but rather then sharing clear icy grey blue eyes, Scela’s large bright eyes were deep sapphire blue. Shiek waited patiently while his thin, skillful fingers brushed her face. She was fairly sure that even she weighed more then the thin boy. All in all, he was just too cute to be a boy. However, she knew the surprising power his thin frame possessed. Scela had a quick eye and wondrous coordination. He could shoot arrows, throw knives, and hurl light javelins as well as mix lake water.

Shiek winced and gulped down a cry as Scela’s probing fingers became a bit rougher.
“You’re cut really bad, Shy,” he murmured, using his pet name for her, “I need to wash this up.”
“Don’t call me Shy…” she hissed back, smiling slightly.

Toran fetched Scela a bowl of water and sat down close by with an anxious air about him. Scela mixed a pinch of red powder into the bowl and began to wash the dried blood off of Shiek’s face. Draq got up from his seat and declared was going out to indulge in his ‘vice,’ which was his word for going to Hyrule Plains after dark and collecting Poes to sell in town. For her part, Shiek was simply trying not to scream as Scela dabbed at her face. Her nose had bleed a good deal, but it was the deep cut that ran from under her left eye down to her lip that really worried the young medic.

“If I hadn’t caught this tonight it probably would have become infected, and at BEST left a huge scar,” Scela proclaimed, straightening up from her face, “But you’ll mend well enough to break hearts yet, Shy.” He smiled and gave the tip of her long pointy ear a playful tweak. Gathering the cloth and bowl, Scela departed through a door to one of the two rooms that were connected to the round main one.

“So, you ok then?” Toran still looked concerned as he pulled off the greenish cloth strip he used as a headband.
“Scela said I’d be fine… you heard him.”
“I wasn’t talking about your face Shiek.”
Shiek shrugged. “Just a little frazzled. It’s frustrating the way we never get anywhere nowadays. But I guess it’s just a string of bad luck; we’ll break out of it sooner or later… and if the worst thing that happens is my face gets scratched, then I’d say we’re really pretty lucky,” a smile played at the corners, “I wasn’t winning any beauty pageants anyway, right?” She pulled off her tight turban, letting her blond hair fall down in its single braid. Sighing softly, Shiek sank back in the chair, flicking a long bang with a finger and watching it fall back into place.

Toran watched her graceful movement. Shiek vehemently denied any claim that she was good looking, but if she really believed she was plain she was alone in the thought. She had the pointed, sharply defined features common to Hylians, but they look more becoming on the slender blond then most. Some might have found her dark red eyes odd, but few would call them anything but pretty. As Toran watched Shiek enjoy a little down time with her hair, he felt an odd feeling spread through him. He had always cared about her, but recently he had been feeling something else too. He couldn’t give the feeling a name, but he knew that every time she got hurt, he felt pain too, and that he was always worried about what might happen to her.

“When does it end, Shiek?” he asked, concern in his voice.
“What do you mean?” she responded, eyes closed and still running a hand lightly through her hair.
“I mean when does it end. We’ve been fight for close on to seven years. When do we stop?”
Her red eyes opened halfway to get a look at him.
“When Gannondorf dies.”
“I don’t want to burst your bubble Shiek, but we couldn’t even find the treasure of the Spirit Temple. How the hell are we going to kill Gannondorf?”
“We won’t have to. The Hero of Time-”
“Doesn’t exist, Shiek. We’ve been waiting for this ‘hero’ for seven years. Where is he?”
“He will come Toran; I know he will.”
“How can you know that?”
Shiek reached out and put a hand on Toran’s knee. Her eyes looked searchingly at his face.
“Because it is true. Please Toran, even if you don’t trust the stories you surely trust me.”
Toran gave a wry grin and nodded.
“I didn’t trust anyone before I met you, Shiek.”

Shiek returned the smile. She knew Toran had experienced a very rough childhood. Orphaned at age six, he had lived for nearly seven years by fighting, scavenging, and occasionally thieving until Impa had showed in the village bringing Shiek with her. He had hung around them quite a bit. For some reason he had never asked why the new girl passed herself as a boy, and he kept her secret perfectly, so Impa no harm in the scruffy orphan. As the two grew older, they began to work together to fight against Gannondorf’s regime. At first they had done little more then prank guards, but before long they had started a more serious resistance. Shiek had never told Toran why she had to hide who she was, nor had she told him about her past, but if he ever asked she felt sure she would. She trusted him with everything, just as he trusted her.

Toran stood up and retied his green headband. Slinging his katana over his shoulder in a fluid motion, Toran turned to the cave entrance.
“I’m going to make sure Draq is doing ok… we wouldn’t want our best axe-man to get hurt gathering gaming money.”
Shiek nodded, though she had doubts as to whether Draq spent his extra money on games. As Toran exited the cave, Shiek heard him give a startled greeting. Shiek sighed. Only one person would have elicited such a response.

On Right Angles

While attempting to demonstrate to my class how to construct right-angles with a protractor, I drew several illustrations on the board. Soon all my students were able to perform the simple task, and I thought they were going on quite well, when one girl raised her hand.

“And they’re called right angles because they have to go right, right?”

I looked at the board and realized that in all my examples I had drawn the horizontal line of the right angle sticking out to the right. After praising Karrie’s insightfulness, I proceeded to correct the minor error. All in all, it was very funny, and no doubt she saved several of my children from missing a few questions on the recent TN state achievement tests.

Of course, no one is really going to find this story interesting, but one of the upsides of been a teacher is that everybody has to go “awww, isn’t that funny/cute/adorable,” no mater how lame the story is. Ha, eat that doctors and lawyers. When was the last time somebody told you your latest brief was funny, huh? TEACHERS ROCK!

Seven Years Part One

Ok, I didn't get as much typed as I'd like, so this is short... but don't worry, there are well over 30 pages already writen, just not transfered. Also, this story never really breaks (it is writen as a totally one chapter thing), so expect lots of cliff-hangers due to that

Read the prior post for the full intro...

And here we go!


Seven Years, by Czar Peter the Great

Shiek darted down the hall as quickly as her strong legs could push. As always stealth had been the desired mode for this operation and, as seemed to be the trend recently, cover had been blown in the middle of the strike. Now, once again, Shiek and her ragged team of underground resistance fighters were running for all they were worth.

Why, oh why, oh why… was all that ran through the young leader’s head as she bolted towards the door of the temple they had been infiltrating. Suddenly a large Skultiod dropped in her path from seemingly nowhere. Quick reflexes were the only thing that saved Shiek, as she ducked beneath the sweep of the skeleton’s cutlass. Shiek rocketed back up, trying to slam her shoulder into the Skultiod to knock it back. She connected squarely with the shield, but her large opponent didn’t even budge. Bringing its sword arm back around, the Skultiod gave Shiek a vicious backhand across the face. Shiek felt her head snap back, and stars burst across her vision. She took a few staggering steps backwards before her feet slipped away beneath her. Through the lights that burst across her vision she saw the grinning face of the skeleton as it leaned in for the killing blow.

“Ji-Maaaa!” rang out a cry, and the Skultoid’s head flew off its body. Shiek watched as two more axe strokes disintegrated the minion into a pile of calcium fragments. Breathing heavily, a young warrior held out his hand.
“Come on Shiek, time to get out of here!”
Shiek took the hand and felt herself jerked to her feet. The two darted out the door and streaked across the desert sand, jumping onto a rock to avoid the sand dwelling monsters. Stopping for a moment to catch their breath, the two warriors looked back at the temple.

“Did Toran and Scela make it out?” Shiek asked, still gasping for air. In response, her companion pointed to a rock about twenty yards away. The two team members in question were sprawled on it, looking as though their escape had been just as narrow. Thank the goddesses, everyone made it… Shiek thought, lying back on the rock. The other warrior looked down at her, concern in the back of his icy grey eyes.

“You alright, Shiek? That old boney gave you quite a knock…”
“I’ll be fine, Draq.” She gave a dismissive gesture.
“Maybe you should-”
“I said I’ll be fine, Draq.” Her red eyes flashed slightly.
Shrugging, Draq turned to inspect his large double headed axe.
“Well, miss fine, you’re bleeding.”
Shiek put a hand to the cloth that covered her mouth and nose. The touch caused her to wince, and the hand came away bloody. Shiek groaned. Impa was going to kill her for sure this time.

“Sorry Draq, I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m just getting frustrated at how everything we do seems to fail. Guess I’m not much of a military leader, huh?”
Her old friend turned back towards her and gave a slight smile, an uncommon occurrence for the normally reserved warrior. Draq shrugged, running a hand through his thick black hair.
“You do the best you can, and that’s all we can ask. And we haven’t failed at everything; Gannondorf hasn’t caught us yet after all. But he might if we sit around like this, let’s get back to the hideout and get cleaned up.”
Shiek nodded and stood. She waved to the others to signal them home, then took out her harp. Strumming a few notes whisked her away, and she felt her feet come back to her just outside the band’s small hideout.

It was a cave well out of anyone’s normal path on the western reaches of Hyrule plain. It stood in a cliff about a day’s walk north of Greudo Valley, half a day’s walk from Lon Lon Ranch, and quite close to Lake Hylia. Even though it was out of the way, the entrance had been meticulously hidden. Unless someone knew a cave was there, they would never be able to spot it. Shiek felt a smile cross her painfully cut face at this thought. The cave was one of the few things that had worked perfectly for the group, and she called it her home with more pride then she had felt over anything else. Glancing around to insure no one was nearby, Shiek dodged quickly inside.
The cave’s interior was dark, so Shiek quickly began to light the small lamp that stood on the round table in the center of the room. She had barely lit the wick before her companions began to troop in.

The tenth muse

Given that the deadline is the tenth muse, and probably the most effective, I will start adding a new entry to my short story Seven Years every Monday. As a bit of a forerunner so I can get right into the story, I should say that this story is dedicated to a good friend of mine who I haven't been able to see for quite a long time. This story represent my first (and so far only) attempt to write a story centering around a female, so please everyone realize that I am writing quite a ways out of my normal zone for this. Also, to those who might read it who KNOW Leeann, Sheik is not intended to be an image of Leeann under different circumstances. She merely shares some common ground with Lee.

As the observant person might have picked up from the name Shiek, this story is based off a game which I do not own. Nor am I making money off of it. If I thought I could make money off it, it wouldn't be on this blog, now would I? If you have NOT played The Legends of Zelda: ignorance of Time you might not get as much out of this story, and it will given away a few secrets of the game (though only ones that I found blatantly obvious while playing... Who DIDN'T know Saria was the forest sage, or know who Shiek REALLY was?) But I have tried to make it an enjoyable story eben for those who do not have a good grasp on Hylian history. Basically, there is a country Hyrule, and the King of the Thieves is able to take over the land. Princess Zelda flees Hyrule Palace and remains in hiding for seven years while our hero (Link) sleeps in the temple of time. After the seven years have passed he emergages to find Hyrule under the control the evil King (who's name is Gannondorf BTW). In the game you then go on (as Link) to defeat Gannondorf and save the world (yea, clap, cheer). This story is about what happened in the seven years before Link's return, and the story of the person who would be the greatest help to him when he awoke: Sheik, the mysterious youth. (and for the record of those freaks who think Sheik is a male, she's not... so ha... I don't care what psudo "offical" site you find that says otherwise... that is just WAY TOO WACKED)

Anyway, that's all the pre-story work, enjoy Lee. Love you!

Czar P.

FF

This July (the 4th to be exact) Marvel will catapult one of their oldest and most loved comics to the silver screen. Though an x-men fan at heart, I await the Fantastic Four’s début with great anticipation. But on to the point…

The Fantastic Four represent one of the three essential relationships in Marvel history: The FF relationship of family, Magneto and Prof. Xavier’s “friendship,” and Spiderman’s relationship with himself.

The FF legend is first and foremost a story about a family, and secondly a story about superheroes. The FF family has a brilliant, but slightly clueless, father in Reed Richards. One sometimes wonders how Sue puts up with him (to me it seems as though Mr. Fantastic is so intelligent he would have trouble interacting with people of less then genius fortitude). Richards is confronted with the same problems that face any father, from overworking to not understanding his wife and children. His superhuman abilities are of no help in this very human environment. His wife faces the same problem. Been able to bend light waves doesn’t help her son get over his personal problems, or encourage the playboy Johnny to finally grow up. But why would we want Johnny to grow up? Reed and Sue haven’t been married long enough to have an outgoing careless teenager, so the writer’s solution? Give them a ready-made one. Johnny Storm often displays the greatest visual stunts and powers in the comic (though we all remember that Dr. Doom himself comments repeatedly that Sue is the most powerful of the four), but in addition to great power seems to come a lack of anything resembling common sense. Thrown into the mix is the uncle/best-friend/grandfather/whatever-else-is-needed role of the blue-eyed, ever-lovin’, Thing. The Thing represents what I have heard called “the saddest hero ever.” Trapped in the body of a monster, Benjamin J. Grimm, is in my mind, the kind, most gentle, and least self-focused of the team. Though obviously self-conscious about his physical appearance, the Thing cares more about those around him then his monstrous looks.

The main point of this brief introduction to the relationship of the FF family is to comment on what will make the movie good, and what will wreck it. The FF will ride or fall not so much on whether Dr. Doom is an awesome bad guy (how could he be otherwise?) but how well the core theme of family is brought over to the film. Take Marvel’s release of Spiderman as an example. It wasn’t acting, cinematics, visuals, or fighting sequences that made the movie such a masterpiece. It was the perfect capture of Peter Parker’s struggled against his real foe: himself.

Fantastic Four has the potential to be a great film, perhaps the best Marvel has ever produced, but it equally has the potential to horribly underachieve, like the dreaded Blade flicks. Only July 4th will reveal which it will be…

Czar P.