Etude 12: Tempo Commodo

For organizational purposes, I feel like it's better to start a new blog post for every new chapter, even if I manage to do multiple of them in one day. Here's the start of Etude 12, which continues Etude 11 (duh).
In other news, I should be getting off to dinner, so I'm posting this in the meanwhile. I sooo need to get back on track...

Sarah stood still, barely believing what had happened. The thing that had been lunging for Armand was now clearly visible. It was a gaunt figure in a tattered black robe. Frost traced delicate patterns over it, patterns that seemed to speak to some inner part of her mind and awaken a sense of dread and fear. It was hooded, and she could not see beyond the hood. The sword's vibrations seemed to have stopped, although she felt a faint pulse from it now and then. Strangely, the figure had not fallen as the wolf had when she'd stopped it. She walked hesitantly over to Armand. He was frozen in a gesture of defiance, arms raised to protect himself. She felt a building tension within herself, like water trying to burst through a dam. Her head was beginning to ache and throb. She looked at the sword in her hands. It glowed only faintly now, as if it had spent itself. Maybe if I can figure out how to use the sword, it can protect us. She held the sword up. It wobbled; she wasn't strong enough to bear the weight of it for very long. I don't know how to use this thing! "Sword of Peace, defend us," she said, hesitantly. Nothing happened. For a moment she thought the sword seemed to glow a bit brighter, and she felt it pulse in her hands. But it did nothing else. Maybe I can unfreeze only Armand and he can use the sword... She reached to touch him, but he remained stiff and frozen. The throbbing in her head was growing more painful. It was starting to be hard to breathe. The ltitlest movement sent needles of pain lancing through her head. I can't... Owww... But... On some impulse, she did her best to cram the sword hilt into Armand's open hand. And then the pain washed over her, and she fell into darkness.

...

Sarah opened her eyes muzzily. Her head was no longer pounding, but instead there was a dull, insistent ache. She was surrounded by a bright blue glow. She turned her head slowly, and saw Armand behind her, holding the sword with its point in the ground. There was a ring of cold flame all around them, centered on the sword. The flames danced around them, casting strange shadows, but this time there was something comforting about them. This was the cool blue of serene water, not the ice cold gray of the grave. Armand's eyes were closed, and he seemed to be concentrating on something. She didn't want to interrupt him, so she sat up slowly, massaging her temples. She squinted into the glowing barrier of flames, trying to see past them. She thought she saw the flickering shapes still beyond it, hovering there threateningly.
"You're awake," said Armand. It was a statement, not a question. He hadn't opened his eyes.
"I gave you back the sword."
"I noticed." And then, after a long pause, he said, "Thank you." Finally, he opened his eyes. "Are you recovered enough to move?"
"I'm still a little shaky."
He closed his eyes again, brows furrowed in concentration. "We can maintain the circle a little longer, but it's hard."
She stood slowly to avoid dizziness. Finally, she was upright. She scooped her pack off the ground. Armand was still wearing his. "I think I'm ready."
"Good." He pulled the sword out of the ground, and held it by the blade, then extended the hilt to her. "Hold onto the sword."

Etude 11 (continued)

So... More stuff! Return of the villain that I'd forgotten I introduced. Also I checked a random adventure site generator and got the result "Shrine of Flame", but I decided "Shrine of Winter" sounded cooler so now I'm running with it. :-D
Oh yeah, and Sarah's reaction to running in the cold at the end of this chapter... That's what happens to me. Yeah, I'm totally not physically fit. ;) And I did exaggerate a bit for purposes of word count. ;)

A figure in long, flowing robes embroidered with glittering sigils turned away from the mirror he had been gazing into. "So they have the Sword of Peace with them... That will be most interesting." The figure looked back into the mirror. "Now, show me what has become of the messenger."

As they continued travelling, the trees lost their leaves and their bare, stark branches dragged against the cold gray sky. The forest seemed to be cloaked in some dark, eternal winter. Only the barest sheen of frost lay on the ground, but it was enough to make the way slippery and unpredictable. The days were colder and longer, and it was often hard to start a fire when they camped for the night.
"Armand?"
"Hmm?"
"I don't think this is a normal winter."
"Duh."
"What does the map say?"
"The map? Oh yeah." He stopped walking, then swung his pack around to rummage through it. He cursed softly as the frozen cords that knotted the pack together refused to budge, but he finally managed to undo them. He pulled the map out, looked for a flat stone nearby, cleared it of frost, and unrolled the map onto the surface. He pointed at a spot in one of the forests on the map. "I think we're around here."
Sarah looked at the map doubtfully. "So we're now in the Forest of Seasons?"
"Well, that makes sense, doesn't it?" He said bitingly.
"Yeah, I guess. Where are we supposed to be going?"
"Well, we got here through the Forest of Wishes, so that means that we're out of the mappable area." He studied the map more closely. Only one corner was filled with a conventional map, and that held the Forest of Wishes that they had left. The rest of the map was filled with blobs of areas which were easily characterized and had distinctive features and landmarks, but which could appear and disappear and move around.
Sarah scrutinized the map. "Hey, there are Shrines here. Maybe we can ask them for help in getting to the Eyes of the Wind."
Armand frowned. "I don't know if that's a good idea. They might not be friendly." And we don't need help yet, either.
"Okay."
He shrugged, rolled up the map, and returned it to his pack. They continued on along the path.

...

As night drew closer, Sarah spotted a series of stone spires jutting out of the trees. "Armand! I'll bet that's one of the shrines in the forest."
He stopped and looked at the spires. He couldn't see them very clearly from this distance, but something about their shape and arrangement made the hair on the back of his neck rise. "Let's avoid them."
"Why?"
"I just don't think it's a good idea."
"Um, okay." She looked at the spires again for a long moment, and then returned her attention to the trail in front of them. But after only a few steps, she thought she saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. "Armand, did you see that?"
"What?"
"Over there. I thought I saw something..." But there were only bare trees and a spattering of frost.
Armand looked at the area. He seemed to be concentrating on something. "I think there might be something dangerous around here."
"Oh. Um. What should we do?"
He looked at her, exasperated. "Move away from it." He turned to the side and pointed. "That way, I think. There's still a trail through there, and it's in a different direction."
"Okay." She followed his lead. But soon enough, she saw something else flicker past her, just to the side. And something else, a brief glint in the gloom, to the other side. "Armand?"
"What now?"
"I think I saw more of them."
He grumbled, but drew the sword from its scabbard. It shed a cold blue light on their surroundings that only served to heighten the eerie shadows of the bare branches. Sarah caught more flickers to the sides. She spun around to look at them, but they vanished. She thought she caught another flicker, but it was gone. That one had seemed to be shaped like a figure in a tattered cloak, dragging along the ground. Probably just my imagination. I don't want to tell him that I'm getting really scared... I wish I had a flashlight or something. Something that's not the weird gray sunlight or that sword of his.
"Armand?"
"What?" He said, testily.
"I think we should move out of here."
He glared at her, but swung the sword around slowly. Finally, he seemed to find a direction that suited him, and he turned to her. "This way."
She followed, sneaking glances behind her. There were no more flickers. But as she turned to look behind again, she stumbled on something, and fell sprawling to the ground. Armand heard her fall, and turned back to her. She saw his eyes grow wide for a moment.
"I fell."
"Yeah, I noticed." He glared at her with distate again. "But look at what you tripped on."
She turned behind her, and saw a strange white rod portruding from the ground. It twisted and bent an odd angle before entering the ground again. Beside it were other rods, of different sizes. "What is it?"
"Don't you recognize a rib cage?"
"Eeek!" She backed away from it as quickly as she could.
Armand looked unimpressed by her reaction, but he stepped away from it. "I don't think this is a good sign..." Some impulse made him suddenly look up and beyond her. "I think we've stayed here too long. Can you walk?"
Sarah stood, shakily, and tested her weak ankle. Miraculously, she hadn't sprained it, although it still tingled and ached a little from the fall. She nodded. "I think so." She looked behind her. The trees were filled with dark, flickering shapes. Impressions of rags, spikes, and skulls flashed across her vision as she watched them. She started running. Armand was already running from them. She was much slower, and her breath caught painfully in her lungs from the sharp, cold air. She tried to breathe through her mouth, but that only made it worse. She started sputtering and coughing helplessly. She had to stop, leaning against a tree, as the coughing fit continued. Her throat burned with every cough. She started feeling nauseous. The dark shapes were closer now. "Ar --" she was seized by another series of coughs, nearly doubling over. with the violence of them. "Armand!" Dimly, she heard him come up behind her, and then she felt a cool, hard object pressed into her hand. She took it, and realized it was a sword hilt. A distant thrumming came from it, and spread through her body. The ache in her throat and lungs ceased. She looked up in wonder, to see a flutter of rags flash past her and towards Armand. "No!" She screamed, raising the sword. And the world stopped.

Etude 11: Allegro ma non troppo

So. Long time no writing. *grimace* >___< You may notice that I'm not so great at writing combat. Also this seems like an awfully random encounter (imagines rolling 2d10 and looking up the chart for what monster uses that result). *whistles idly* Dum-de-dum...


As Sarah and Armand pressed on, the forest grew thicker and darker. The trees seemed to lose the aspects of spring time and take on the aspects of autumn instead. Red and orange leaves were strewn across their path, and the branches were a blaze of color. Both had grown more accustomed to sleeping out of doors, and hiking through the day. Armand had still not told Sarah about the sword; he felt it was something she didn't especially need to know. It was the sword that warned him when the attack came. It thrummed at his side, a sharp vibration different from the gentle rhythm he'd become used to. He put his hand to the hilt, and felt a strong sense that danger was approaching them. "Sarah?"
She turned, surprised. "What?"
"There's something dangerous around here, and it's coming closer."
"How would you know? You're just -- eek!" A wolf had come into view. It was entirely black, with huge, sickly yellow eyes. Its red tongue lolled from its mouth, slobbering over long, deadly sharp fangs. It tensed its muscles for a moment, like springs waiting for release, and then sprang at Sarah.

...

"Stop!" She screamed. And the wolf froze in mid-air, dangling there for a moment, before gravity took over and it fell down to the ground. That was enough to break Sarah's hold over it, and it stood up again, whining slightly. It shook its head as if confused, then lunged at Sarah again. And somehow, Armand came between them with the Sword of Peace blazing bright in his hands. The wolf shrieked at the glare and shied away, blinded. It tried to circle around and make for Sarah again, but the sword's glow expanded into a brilliant blue bubble that surrounded the two of them. The wolf dashed at the barrier, but found itself slipping around it. After a few more tries, it backed away, then sat on his haunches and howled mournfully. The sound was piercing, and seemed to invade the ears. And then, as suddenly as it had come, the wolf was gone. Armand waited until the sharp vibrations from the sword relaxed before he sheathed it, dissolving the protective bubble.
"Armand, what was that?!"
He looked at Sarah, looking strangely contemplative. "That was the Sword of Peace. The Spring Flower lent it to me before we left. Meranes gave me the scabbard for it."
"How did you -- what did you -- how..."
"The sword has some amount of awareness, and that's how I can use it. The rest is none of your business."
"Um, okay." Armand started walking. "Wait."
"What is it?" He seemed to be back to his usual grumpy self.
"Thank you for saving me back there."
He shrugged. "It would probably have gone for me next."
"Still, I appreciate it." She paused, trying to dredge up the words. Armand looked at her expectantly, arms crossed. "I'm sorry I laughed at you in the Butterfly Realm. It's just... I thought you looked silly, but I should have kept it to myself, especially after everything that's happened to you because of me. So... I'm sorry."
"I, um. Thanks." He looked for a moment as if he were going to say more, but he just shook his head and kept on walking. Sarah stared after him for a while, confused, and then rushed to follow. I still kind of wish he'd apologize... I guess that's asking too much.

Armand noticed that Sarah was keeping a little distance between them after the encounter with the wolf. That suited him just fine. Why did I save her, anyway? I didn't even really think about it or the consequences... He smiled wryly to himself. And I didn't think my reflexes were that fast. He snuck a glance behind him to see Sarah looking around expectantly. Well, I guess I can try asking the sword. His hand moved downwards to the hilt of the sword and rested there. The faint thrumming was relaxing, and he again felt the slight tingling in his hand. He tried to let his awareness slide into the tingling -- an exercise that was becoming easier to him as he practiced it more often with the sword --and then a blue tint settled over the world, and he felt the sword's presence in his mind.
"You called me, Awakener?"
"Yeah," he muttered under his breath, so that Sarah wouldn't hear.
"You seem troubled."
"Kinda. Yeah."
"What is the matter?"
"I saved that girl and I don't know why. And I did it instinctively, without thinking about it."
"Your motivations are not something I can divine for you. I can tell you, however, that I am at my most effective when defending others."
"Yeah, I figured. It's kinda in character for you and everything."
"I have noticed that your kind fight a great deal even when there is no need to. You, in particular, do this more than the others who have Awakened me."
"You mean starting wars and stuff?"
"No, this is something more personal. I do not think I am at liberty to just tell you what it is."
"What! Why not?" Armand's hand squeezed the hilt.
"Because if I did tell you, I doubt that you would reach peace." And then the blue glow faded from everything, and Armand knew that the sword would tell him nothing more.