My Part.

My Part

I found the sheet music of his life,

never played, lying on desk covered with

picutres of memories,
The sheet music has no treble clef.

The music on the first page looks simple enough,
Some quarter notes and half notes in a 4/4 time signature.
I see the key of E is his first choice. Quarter notes
run smoothly, evenly, up and then down on the stanza.

At the bottom, some notes change into eighth notes,
And some chords develop as his life becomes slightly more complicated.
The sound is still melodic and rather traditional.
Oh, well, now here is an E flat where an E natural
Should be, but I see he resolves it here at the end of the first movement.

But in his second movement, many notes are out of signature,
What was going on to inspire so much dischord?
At least here on this page, he resolves the issues.
But the piece has grown much more complicated, now. The notes are a stream of sixteenth notes that run into a river of chords and eighth notes. His key signature changes to G.

A crescendo. Slowing down and speeding up. Forte to double forte to triple forte. Softening to piano, and now a bridge to a different key, E-minor, and quarter notes plod down in even rhythmic patterns from high E until it settles on a single idea: E, G, B, A in 4/4. He exploits this idea, jumping it from one octave to another taking the rhythmic idea to G major and then back to E-minor in quick sixteeth notes. I would have a hard time playing this.

But...but, why only a bass part I wonder?
Without treble, this bass is only a base.
What good is the foundation without
Something built on it, some other harmony.

He's careful with all this complexity not to muddy the bottom.

Another bass part would just be disgusting.
but perhaps this piece is complicated to make up for its missing part.

His song just doesn't seem complete.
Will this foundation be like a slab, a rock

beaten and weathered by the elements

until it fades away in a final decrescendo?

Chapter 6: Persuite of Love

Simon and Price raced on across the plains in the dark night. The soldiers were still quite a ways ahead though Simon was rushing forward as if the night were day. A thin fog began to settle in the cool mountain valleys. Everything was now comletely dark and Simon knew this was his chance to catch up. Price closed his eyes since he saw no reason to keep them open and just let Simon do the thinking. The horse galloped heartily and swiftly, avoiding rocks and idividual trees that dotted the plain. Simon was very worried by now that he had wasted precious time saving Delos, and he was begining to wish he had not shown compassion at the expense of persuite. He was unflinching in the fog, guiding his horse safely with his face fixed forward.
Salte and Delos, however, made their way slowly through the fog. The best Salte could do was create enough light to look at the ground before them. He held his spear in the middle so that each dimond tipped end lit both sides of him and his horse. Delos followed straight behind close enough to see as clearly as he could, but far enough away to keep the horses comfortable. Salte and Delos were falling furthur behind Simon and Price, but Salte could not do anything else to hurry up. They both knew that forty-something soldiers on horses would not be hard to track, so they conversed while they trudged through the night.
"Our culture has been kept secret since we were not allowed to enter these lands," Salte said answering a question from Delos, "It's probably good you did not allow us to enter. We had quite a long time to reflect."
"I see," Delos replied, "And...what about the great light we were sent to accuse you of. You said the three adventurers Surel sent were responsible for that? What did they do?"
"Something very bad," Salte answered, "You'll find out if you live long enough to accompany us when we do something about it."
"You mean to fix it?" Delos asked.
"Even though we are not responsible for what happened then, we are responsible for the fact that it was there for disrupting," Salte replied.
"I'll take it's a long story," Delos said.
"Yes," Salte said.
"How much of a threat is it?" Delos asked.
"None right at this moment, but the generations after will have to deal with evil that they will not be able to recognize and that intends to enslave them, possibly even destroy them completely, although slavery can be a type of death. Ironically, in your case, it's life."
"Do you have family?" Delos asked.
"A wife and two sons. Our people are almost wiped out. A few of us are all that's left," Salte replied.
"How come you're wittled to so few?" Delos asked.
"Because of what happened so long ago and because hope was lost for many of us," Salte answered. Delos bowed his head now and quieted himself. After a moment Salte spoke.
"What about you?" he said staring into the darkness.
"I'm from a town called Jutes," Delos answered, "Beautiful town. It's small looking over the seas and surrounded by water falls. We're the only town on the coast and farming and fishing is mostly what we do. I have a wife and a daughter, even though marriage is discouraged for elite branches."
"You are elite?" Salte asked.
"Yes," Delos said, "I'm not the best of the best, but our division of the calvary is considered elite." Salte nodded. "Silas and Titus, two of the three who ventured into the south are part of the best of our military called the Saviors."
"Why such a high handed name?" Salte asked.
"Because Surel uses them for high risk missions and intense fighting. They are good, no doubt. You have to have something else to be one of them," Delos said, "Although, I think Silas was catered in because of his upbringing."
"He's not what they wanted?" Salte inquired, "I heard he was a good fighter."
"Mmmm, yes" Delos answered, "He has no friends really, so all he does is practice fighting amungst some other things. He picks a lot of fights, which the superiors like that, but they can't stand him."
"Why?" Salte asked.
"Because he has a noble bone in his body, I think," Delos answered, "And he challenges people with it, and I've heard he's got a kind of arrogance about him that doesn't respect anyone no matter how much they degrade or punish him or put him in his place. He won't acknowlege anyone else's accomplishments."
"In other words he has spirit," Salte replied, "with some resent."
"Sometimes it seems like that's all he has," Delos answered, "Why are you so interested in him?" "I'm not," Salte replied, "I'm interested in how they treat good people." Delos chuckled.
"Good people," he said.
"What's so funny about that?" Salte said.
"Surel makes sure that goodness is trained out of the army," Delos said, "He believes it is a weakness that leaves a soldier open to defeat."
Salte turned his head to the side and looked at Delos with the side of his eyes.
"If Surel does anything to Love or threatens to, he'll find out how good people make up for it."
Delos laughed and moved on his sattle to settle himself on his horse some more. Delos's silver chest plate reflected some of the light that Salte put out, but the rest of his clothing was black iron chain mail, in case anyone wanted a discription.
"Ummm," Delos said becoming serious, "Thank you for saving my life after what I did."
"What you did?" Salte asked.
"He didn't tell you?" Delos replied.
"No, but don't worry about it," Salte replied, "If he didn't see fit to tell me, then it means it's not important anymore." Delos bowed his head at the mercy of Simon and his friends and couldn't utter another word. Salte continued to look forward wondering what would happen when Simon and Price caught up with the soldiers.
Love and her family had been gagged to keep them from talking or screaming. They had now entered into a forest that lasted all the way to the Calton Plains of the capital, it was late at night. The forest road was not the widest, but it allowed two or three horses at a time comfortably. The fifty slowly made their way by two's throught the forest as quietly and as carefully as they could with tourches lit to give off some light. Soft clip-claps of horses could be heard along with soft footsteps of soldiers leading their horses, and occasional moans from the royal family gagged and sore from riding the horses. The sounds of the foot steps resonated slightly in the fog dampened forest. Trotes had told them to be alert for the chase that Simon would make after their captives, so the men in the back turned now and then at a supposed sound of possible horse galloping. One of the men in the front finally spoke to Trotes.
"Trotes," he said softly, "Don't we need to take a rest?"
"Where are we going to rest?" he snapped back softly, "We can't rest unless we absolutely have to."
"Doesn't Surel want our prisoners healthy?" The man asked him.
"If they come back at all, yes," Trotes said.
"So why not just ditch them and say bandits got them?" the soldiers told him.
"Because the reward will be well if they come back alive," Trotes answered. The man looked at Trotes confused.
"And healthy," the soldier added.
Trotes wispered clenching his teeth, "Go back to your place in the line, or you will return extremely unhealthy." The man sunk back to his place in the line. Almost immediately another soldier rode up.
"Trotes," the man said.
"What?" Trotes groweled.
"The women are having trouble staying on their horses," he said, "They truly need to rest."
"It won't hurt them to stay awake a full night," Trotes replied, "Keep them awake. Do whatever you have to, but we will keep going untill I find a good place for us to rest."
"Yes sir," the man said. Soon the sound of girls yelping was heard. When Love heard the sound of her sisters she began to move her head to get the gag off of her mouth. Finally, she wiggled it off.
"Keep your hands off my sisters, you pigs!" Love yelled. Trotes and the other soldiers looked in the direction that Love's voice came from. A soldier immediately hit Love and knocked her off her horse and a soldier on the other side caught her.
"Bring her up here," Trotes called back. The soldier gagged Love and stumbled along the line in the tourch lit darkness and took Love to Trotes. The road had begun to widen and Trotes was not about to give up his leaverage on Simon or any others thinking they could rescue this prize.
"Do you know the way from here?" Trotes asked him.
"Yes sir," the soldier said.
"Take twenty other soldiers with you and ride ahead," Trotes commanded.
"In the dark and fog, sir?" the soldier told him, "We're barely able to travel as it is, much less move at any real speed ahead."
Trotes looked back at the tourches that lined the road. He turned and gave some more commands to the soldier and then sent him on his way.
"Halt and set up camp here," he yelled. Metal clinging sounded through the forest as men began to get a small camp ready and tied up horses and put away armor. Soldiers felt their way in the night and found some damp wood that they stripped down into dry wood to start fires. Eventually, the fires could be seen faintly lighting the edge of the road, which was fairly wide now. The soldiers set the rest of the royal family around fires and allowed them to sleep in the dark while they gambled to see who would take watch first. Trotes made his way to the back end of the camp.
"I'll keep look out here," he told the soldiers. The soldiers had no desire to argue with Trotes, one because he scared them, and two because they wanted to sleep. So they nestled in and Trotes listened carefully in the darkness for the sound of footsteps wondering just how far behind Simon was.
The night crept on and the fog began to thin as dryer cool air from the mountains continued to push the fog out of the forest valley. The woods were still almost completely dark and fires had begun to die out and become piles of glowing red on black. The ground was somewhat moist and the air of the woods grew cooler. Some soldiers awoke to rekindle fires so that they could have some warmth. As always, the smaller moon made an appearance since its orbit made it visible almost every night in that part of the world, and, as usual, It shed almost no light. Trotes stared intently down the trail he could not see. Trotes knew the way back would be long and taxing and he did not want to have to deal with a chase the whole way. We waited well into the morning of the night. When he finally heard the galloping of a horse, he stood up in suprise that anyone would be running a horse in this kind of night, but he figured it must be his persuers. When the galloping came close enough Trotes hailed them.
"If you seek the Royal family then stop when you see me or else death awaits them," He said.
Simon and Price both heard him well. Simon slowed his horse.
Price wispered to Simon, "I'll get off and search through the camp while you speak to him." Simon nodded and Price jumped off of the horse. Price could not move freely through the camp like he and Claude did because the fog would give him away around the fires. He went into the woods and made his way to the camp. Simon rode until Trotes spoke.
"There you are," Trotes said, "I was wondering how long it would take you to catch up. I figured you'd do it quicker than a normal person." Trotes looked at Simon blankly. "If you're here for the Royal family they're here," Trotes said. "All of them except the oldest daughter," he chuckled. Simon's eyes fired up.
"Where is she?" Simon asked.
"Safe as long as you don't do anything we don't like," Trotes answered. Simon looked at Trotes and Trotes at Simon. Trotes spoke again, "She was sent to the Capital ahead of us long before you arrived to save her. And, unless I'm mistaken, you don't know this area well enough to just recklessly go tromping through the country to find her." Simon glared at Trotes not knowing what to say.
"If I don't meet with the soldier that took her, then she dies and we blame it on the raiders that we have to go weed out in the west mountain ranges," Trotes continued, "And you are going to help us."
"I'm going to help you?" Simon anwered. Trotes called for a soldier and the soldier brought Charity into view gagged and tied. Trotes put a knife to her throat. "Weren't you listening?" he said through gritted teeth, "If anything happens that I don't like, or if something happens to me, someone gets hurt very badly," Trotes said, "This royal family means nothing to me, and they are just bragging rights for King Surel." Trotes looked at Simon triumphantly and turned to make his way to the front of the camp throwing Charity to the side. Simon dismounted to help Charity. "Follow me," he called back to Simon. Simon only stared as Trotes quickly faded into the fog. "Did you hear me?" Simon heard Trotes say in the darkness. Simon gently lead his horse and followed Trotes to the front of the camp. Price had heard the whole thing but kept himself hidden from the group in case he had to do something drastic, but he didn't know what to do since Trotes had Love somewhere else. He could only silently move near the front of the camp to hear if there was any more dialoge between Simon and Trotes. Along the way, he saw Faith and the girls tied up. He stopped to see if he could do anything. By now light was very slowly illuminating the woods because it was time for day break. Price bent the light and carefully moved and quickly put some cloth lying around over each of the girls and Faith. He did not know what else to do in the current situation and he did not want to risk waking and talking to them. He gently loosened the bands a little and kept moving. Then he moved to the front to listen for anything useful. He sat down and saw that Simon had fallen fast asleep near a campfire. One of the soldiers walked over to wake him, but Trotes stopped him.
"Let him rest," Trotes growled, "He's going to have more than he can handle when we go for those raiders."
"Sir, wasn't that mission optional?" the soldier said.
"Not for you it's not," Trotes shot back, "No wonder you're still at the bottom of the pile." The closest thing to second in command of the group walked beside Trotes and told the soldier talking to Trotes to go away.
"Thankyou, Obes," Trotes said. Obes turned to him.
"You do know when Surel gave us that option we had three hundred men," Obes said.
"That's because Surel knew Crusas was a moron," Trotes replied, "We can pull this off and lighten the load at the same time. I have friends back home that need to move up."
"So you plan on getting men killed?" Obes.
"I'm not trying to," Trotes said, "But it's going to happen. I just need to make sure it's the ones I want dead, if I can manage it." Obes nodded his head.
"Always the schemer. This is going to be a long journey," Obes said shaking his head and walking away. Price listened to all of this and wondered at what to do. He stole a little ways away from the camp and sat down in some bushes to watch for when the camp would begin to move, but he underestimated just how tired he was, and he fell fast asleep.
Salte and Delos did not cover even half the ground that Simon and Price had covered through the foggy night. Once day began to break and the fog began to lighten some more. Delos took the lead and Salte followed. They ran for some time and made it to the forest; that was the half way marker. The forest gradually grew thicker on the sides of the road as they traveled deeper in. The Great Mountains to the west and the east mountain range were far off, but still visible untill they progressed even further into the rocky forest that slowly took them up hill. Brown leaves covered the trail and the forest floor along with occasional ferns growing around the occasional grey and green, algea-covered boulders that rested amongst the trees. Birds began to chirp and sing, but the two had no time to enjoy the scenery. Salte reached down and put his hand on his horse's neck to give her an extra boost.
Back at the camp the men pack their things and got the horses ready. They mounted the girls and woke Simon, who immediately looked for Price, who was fast asleep in the woods.
"Strap," Simon thought to himself. Then he heard one of the soldiers shout.
"Trotes!"
Trotes looked in the direction of the shout. "What?" he shouted back. The soldier came running up. "There's some one else," he said somewhat shaken.
"Then get him," Trotes said.
"Well, the problem is he just vanished," the soldier replied.
"What?" Trotes said. Simon smiled while getting on his horse and looked away; he knew Price was hiding nearby. Trotes looked at Simon.
"Tell your friend to show himself," he told him walking up to the front of Simon's horse. Simon turned his head to Trotes.
"Now," Trotes growled. Simon took a deep breath.
"Price, come out, you're busted," he called still looking at Trotes. Trotes scowled, then smiled at Simon and walked to converse with his inferiors. Price came out of the woods with an angry look on his face and walked up next to Simon. The soldiers coveresed about he plan and when they finished they all looked at Simon and Price. Trotes walked up to them.
"You shouldn't have left your pin in the mountains," he said, "Remember, if something happens that I don't like or I don't return at all, then Love dies."
Simon looked hard at Trotes. Trotes looked into Simon's eyes. Simon replied, "If you do anything to Love because you got skittish, you'll wish you had never taken one step toward the Southlands." Trotes looked in Simon's eyes a little longer and then walked over to his horse.
"We ride east from here!" Trotes called, "We've got work to do."
"They have some raiders they feel they need to weed out," Price answered, "And it looks like we are going to help."
"Get on your horses," Trotes said to them a little ways off. Price got on Simon's horse.
"I hate these things," Price said. The group began to march and Simon and Price lagged back until they were riding next to the Royal family, who was grateful for their presence.
Salte and Delos rode hard to catch up with the soldiers. Salte was sorry he had to pass up all of the scenery that they sped through, but he was much more concerned with rescuing the King's family and Simon and Price if they needed it. Salte thought hard on formulating a plan to take on the forty-something soldiers. The sun was just starting to creep above the mountain tops far to the west. To the east the mountains were starting to get closer as they continued on the trail.
"Salte," Delos called back. Salte looked at him. "I'm sorry, but my horse needs a rest," he told him.
Salte slowed his horse to a stop and Delos stopped with him. "They'll fall down dead if you run them too hard and long," Delos explained. Salte looked at Delos's horse and dismounted his. He walked over to the grey coloured horse and put his hand on the neck of the animal. In a few minutes Salte took his hand off and walked back to his horse.
"He'll be alright," Salte said and took off. Delos was still puzzled as to exactly what Salte was doing when he did things like that, but he did not question him. He kicked his horse and sped after Salte. They rode hard until a little later in the morning they reached the place were the soldiers had camped. Delos looked around and shouted to Salte, "We are still some ways behind them, but we are catching up now." Salte pushed his horse harder, "Come on girl. I have to catch up with my family." They continued to speed through the forest as the day grew brighter and slightly hotter.
Meanwhile, Love was quickly being carried straight to the capital now. Twenty soldiers had been put in charge of her, including one who was an honorable man in general. He was entrusted with making sure none of the other soldiers did anything foolish. They had her hands and her arms tied to her horse's reigns, so all she could do is steer her horse and watch the trees move by as they rushed throught the forest. She had a very long trip and didn't know if she was going to be able to handle it, but luckily for her Trotes had threatened them not to harm her, or he would make sure they ate his spear. Love will have a month and a half of hard traveling now.
In the group of soldiers Price and Simon spoke with the Royal family about what had happened. The group moved at a good clip until they came to a fork in the woods; they took the road heading east.
"How are you doing?" Simon asked Faith who rode silently on her horse. Faith shook her head with tears.
"Where's Love?" Hope asked Simon in her soft slightly high voice. Simon choked a little.
"She's heading to the Capital."
Hope looked down and pushed back her black hair, which was dirty and frizily from all the running. Charity was falling asleep behind Hope.
"Don't let her fall off the horse," Price told Hope. Hope took hold of Charity's hands and Charity woke and looked around groggy. Faith was still silent and tearing she wanted assurance that her daughter would be alright, but didn't know how to get it.
"I want to know if my daughter is safe," Faith told Simon and Price. Simon nodded and made his way up to the front of the ranks were Trotes and Obes were conversing. Simon rode directly beside Trotes, who looked over resentfully. They held eye contact and then Simon spoke. "The queen wants to know if her daughter is going to be safe," Simon asked.
"I told you if you didn't do anything stupid she would," Trotes replied, "Tell her that."
"She has your word?" Simon replied.
"No," Trotes answered, "She has your word and your threat to me." Simon glared and Price looked at Trotes and then Obes.
"I deliver on my word," Simon said.
"I do to," Trotes anwered.
Simon turned his horse around, "For your sake you better hope so. I know I'm going to survive. You better make sure Love does to."
"Why not just give us the command and we'll take him?" Obes asked.
"Because he's an advantage, and Surel would like to see them," Trotes said, "Look beyond yourself Obes and you'll be alot wiser. Why get however many men killed trying to kill him now, when we can just exchange his life and the life of his friend's for Love's? Why not just let Surel take care of it while we get honored. Put your pride on hold and you'll have a better chance at the last laugh."
"His threats are insolent," Obes said.
"He's not going to do anything if we keep our word," Trotes replied, "Just let me do the thinking, Obes, it's obvious you are not capable of doing it competently." Obes was silent.
Simon rode back glaring with black eyes at each and every soldier that had the courage to make eye contact with him. Price leaned and spoke to Simon, "Something tells me this going to turn into an adventure." Simon nodded and fell in line with the Royal family. "Strap," he said.

The Pitted Piper

This poem only has one theme that I care to mention. It's a dark poem, yes, and I don't always enjoy the dark, but I refuse to be repulsed by it. Everyone has to endure darkness, so why be turned off by it. I've said this before, but there are things that one can only see at night or in the dark that can't be seen in light as well: stars, galaxies, glow sticks. In the dark is when you might realize that there is more going on than you thought, more hidden behind our own superficial veils of light. Think about all the star systems that could be out there. All the stars that die without us ever knowing. Nebulas are the coolest to me. The glowing algea in Port St. Joe, can only be seen at night over the darkness of shark infested water. In darkness you have a time to reflect on yourself. "Dark" is not just a time for fear of the unknown. David actually says to lay still on your bed and search your heart. When's the best time to do that? A night when all the distractions are done for the day, unless you have to work the night shift. In which case, it's your job to deal with darkness. A walk on our beaches at night is one of my favorite activities. My poem "Dark" is about this exact issue. This poem here has a truly dark theme, however. It's about how people refuse to acknowlege that there's more going on than they realize and they shield themselves from the spiritual darkness by closing their eyes physically. They shut out the reality of the Piper because this dark piper pipes exactly for them. Knowing evil is part of the responsibity we took on when we ate of the fruit. Not always knowing as in experiencing, knowing as in being able to recognize it, decern it. Instead of learning what is evil and what's not, many people have just decided to change the definition of evil or portray evil as just "missunderstood." This poem is about those people. While somethings are missunderstood as evil. Evil is not a missunderstood subject. One thing to remember about evil is it's seductive, or else you wouldn't pay attention to it otherwise.

I took the idea behind this poem from the tale of the Pied Piper. Some high class literature there, but something about the Piper when he piped away the rats and then the little children made me think of our generation. Flattering huh? The rhyme scheme and the rhythym are wacky; try to read it like prose. It's not my best by far, but it's my first attempt using other literature in my own. Anyway, here it is.


The Pitted Piper

The Piper pipes his songs, and
His audience follows and shuts their eyes.
They marvel at this wonderous song.
And they dance ever pleasantly to
His lead.

How cunningly he pipes.
It's just want they want to hear.
The music has captured their affections
And now they’re dancing to the cliffs to
make payment to the Piper's fee.

Dancing on in mirth, following
the music that's played to make them pleased,
leaping up and down in joy,
but they never try to see their pleaser.
They close their eyes and imagine what they wish for him to be.

The music is their guide, they say.
The unmistakeable joy of a pleasing melody.
They let the melody fill their minds
stealing every movemnt to it's cause with
notes as pleasing as roses smell.

The Piper pipes his melodies
Sechronizing just right.
So cunningly he pipes that
None can speak against the quality of the music
that they chose to heed. It works so perfectly.

The Piper’s piping is so soothing to their minds.
“How can anything that makes us feel so good
Be wrong,” each follower cries.
And so the Piper pipes his music
To lead them to the sea.

He pipes less cunningly
as he did with those angels of God.
That third or so that knew what
the Piper piped to plea. They willingly
offered themselves, but these people...

“Piper lead us to your sea,” they cry,
“If it fills us like your melody.”
And so the Pit Fated Piper pipes to lead
these children to the sea, like those rats of old
he leads them coldly because "rats" are all he sees.

So over plains of greenery with their eyes shut
they dance to this music they feel is so much better
than the towering water falls and the crytal
streams that flow for refreshement and peace.
They never want to rest in greenery or poverty of nature.

They dance in the richness of the
music and listen for every note
over the noise of the birds and the
gentle beat of water. They drink the song
like their thirst cannot be quinched untill the cliffs come into sight.

They do not see the vast ocean
and they begin to fall in, like they are falling
into a dark gulf that will seperate
them from the fresh water given
by the one who warned them of the Piper.

But one by one with their eyes
all shut, they fall happily off the cliff.
And not until they loose their step do their
eyes open to the Pitted Piper's mischief
Some look back just as they fall,

And the Pitted Piper stands behind
smiling in purple and dark blue royal clothes
"This is the payment I exact from you," he says,
"For taking part of my wealth and best.
Never I nor you will know the pleasure of a rest."


Satan plays many of us like wooden pipes because we only care about number one; if we have time, other people, and, if we're in deep crap, God. I don't think the Pied Piper piped the children into the sea, but Satan is all too happy to do so himself.

Chapter 6: Persuite of Love

"I'm hungry," Claude said softly to Price.
"You jerk," Price answered flopping back down, "What are we going to do now?"
"Rest and then keep going," Claude replied. The weakness was very evident in his voice.
"I can barely move," Price said, "I didn't know fighting took this much out of you."
"I hope Salte decided to follow us," Claude replied still staring now with eyes half open strait up, watching two short, thin-threaded clouds slowly make their way east. The day was mild in temperature.
"I hope so too." Price sat up and look up over Claude to the east to see Salte coming way in the distance. "There he is," he said, "he's a little ways off." Claude slowly turned his head over to the east to look, but the grass of the valley blocked his view.
"I don't see him," Claude answered and then he coughed. Price shook his head at Claude and dropped back down from exhuastion.
"I guess we just wait," Price said.
"I'm not doing anything else," Claude responded weakly. The two brothers lay there waiting for Salte to come, so they could continue. Salte rode up and trotted to them. He looked at both of them and shook his head.
"Nice day to take a brake," Salte clipped.
"We've never pushed outselves so hard in our lives," Price said. Salte dismounted and knelt down. When he touched them on the chest he raised his eye brows. "Wow, you two really did expend yourselves," he said. Salte flooded them with energy. As he did so a rumbling noise grew from the west. Oak could barely be seen from were they were, and the fifty horsemen, minus a few, were coming that way. Salte looked on as he continued to rejuvenate them.
"Strap," Salte said.
"Is that the party they sent after Simon and them," Price asked.
"You can see better than I can," Salte responed, "Lift your lazy head up."
"What if they captured or killed everyone," Price said.
"Just look," Salte said.
Price lifted his head as the horsemen made their way toward them. He squinted his eyes and looked intently as the soldiers headed north of them to the north east.
"I see the royal family," Price said, "But not Simon or The Mayor or any one else!" Price tried to get up, but Salte pushed him back down.
"Calm down until I finish," Salte said.
"Hurry," Price urged.
"What did you just say?" Salte said.
"Strap, what are we going to do if Simon is hurt?" Claude said.
"I may have just missed them in the group," Price said, "That was quite bunch."
Salte knew that leaving warriors alive didn't make any sense, but he said nothing. As Salte was just finishing up he turned to see three of those soldiers galloping towards them. Price and Claude both lifted their heads and when they saw the greeting party they pulled themselves up on their knees. They were still hungry, but they could manage now. The three soldiers came up to them and eyed them carefully.
"What are you doing to these men," the one in front asked Salte, "Who are you and state your purpose."
"Look at his hair and eyes," another soldier said, "he must be another one of those things."
Price and Claud looked at each other and got up to take care of buisness, but Salte held out his arms and held them back.
"State your buisness," Salte said. The soldier looked at Salte befuddled.
"You think he's as dangerous as that other freak," one soldier said quietly to the man in front.
"Much more dangerous," Price replied. The soldiers turned their heads suprised at the three men.
"All three are freaks," The soldier in front said. The other two quickly retreated and sped back to the group, but the man in front stayed.
"Cowards," he said, "I'll prove myself here." Salte, Price, and Claude looked at the man as if he were a child threatening a man.
"Are you crazy," Salte said to him pulling out his spear.
"Nice dialect," the soldier replied, "Nice spear too." The man looked at the three men and began to feel that maybe this was not such a good idea.
"This is you're lucky day," The man said turning around.
"But not yours," Claude said tossing one of his knives into the hide of the man's horse. The horse fell to the ground, but the man jumped off. Salte ran with his spear and thrust toward the man, but the man stepped aside. Salte the reached up and grabbed the top back part of the soldier's armor and flung him around backwards to the ground and stepped on the man's right hand, his weapon hand. Salte put one of the dimonds on the soldiers neck.
"Where are they taking Love and the family?" he asked. The man swallowed.
"None of your buisness," he replied.
"Wrong," Salte replied. Salte took his spear and thrust it into the right wrist of the soldier. The man let out a scream. Price and Claude walked up and put their knives to different locations on the man's body. "Let's try again," Salte said, "Where is the blacked eyed man?"
"We left him beyond Oak," The man screamed."
"Is he still alive?" Price asked.
"Yes, yes," he said. The three breathed a sigh of relief for their friend.
"Where are you taking the Royal family?" Claude asked.
"Back to the camp and then back to Calton capital," he said tearing up, "Surel does not need to kill them anymore, his power is secure. So he ordered them to be brought to the Capital if we ever stumbled on them, so he could banish the whole formal royal family together."
"Oh strap," Price said.
"At least their lives are not in danger," Salte replied.
"If they die on the way," the soldier said, "Or anything happens, Surel won't care."
The three looked up at each other, and Salte pulled his spear out of the man's hand.
"Let's go," Salte said. Price and Claude both got up on Claude's horse, which reluctantly took the load, and Salte mounted his horse and looked at the man.
"Wait," the man said holding his wrist, "What can I do now? I've betrayed the army; they'll kill me if they find me."
"Go back to were your camp was," Salte told him, "There's no one there now, but you'll see the road into the Southlands. Go there if you want the best hiding place, but keep in mind that no matter where you go, your imprudence and your cowardice will enslave you to others, no matter how many times you earn your freedom with them. You are enslaved to us if you go there."
Price got Salte's attention. "What do we do for Simon?" Price asked.
"I've got to go for Simon. Hopefully he's not hurt," Salte replied, "You two follow that group back to the camp, steal something to eat, and don't let them do anything to Love and the family. Hurry."
Price and Claude took off after the group. Salte looked at the man, who by now had passed out due to lack of blood. Salte got down and bound the man's wound.
"I can't help you if you lack blood," Salt told him, "I'm sorry, wretched man." Salte mounted his horse.
"Let's go, friend," he told her. They took off towards Oak.

Simon was just coming past Oak and the day by now was getting closer toward the end. The sun was some ways away from the east horizon, which Simon had never seen. He looked at the straight line dividing the blue sky from the green grassy valley plain.
"You doing alright back there?" Simon asked.
The man groaned. "If you want to live you need to hang on," Simon told him. They continued untill Simon saw something in the distance. When his eyes turned black he knew it was Salte. "Your salvation is near," Simon called back to the soldier, "I only hope this riding hasn't caused irrepairable damage." When Salte saw it was Simon coming toward him he increased his speed to meet him. They met with joy and concern.
"Thank One your still alive," Salte said.
"I have an injured man, and I gave him my word I would save him," Simon said. Salte nodded. Simon got down and carefully took the man off of the horse and laid him on the ground.
"What's wrong with him," Salte asked getting off his horse.
"His back is broken. Did you see Love and the rest?" Simon asked.
"Love is in the hands of the soldiers that took her. I sent Price and Claude after them, but I don't know how much longer they can hold out. None of us are used to battle." Salte carefully rolled the man over and laid his hands on his back. Simon got up and looked in the east.
"What possessed you to save one of them," Salte asked looking up. Simon shook his head.
"I don't know," he said, "the man owes us his life now since he didn't want to give it up for Surel." Salte nodded his head, "Not a bad choice." Simon continued to look to the east; there was no time.
"I'm going after Love," Simon said, "And to make sure that Price and Claude are alright."
"Go ahead," Salte said, "Hurry, the soldiers will only stop long enough to see their camp has been abandoned and then they will continue." Simon nodded and mounted his horse and took off.
"You're banged up pretty bad," Salte told the man who was in too much pain to speak, "You're lucky Simon didn't slam you as hard as he could have or there would be no saving you." The man groaned and tried not to move under the immense energy that was being flooded through him. Minutes later Salte was done and the man felt his strength quickly come back. Salte got up and the man turned and looked up at him in wonder.
"You're fine now, better than you know," Salte said, "But you owe your death to us, now."
The man nodded. "What's your name," Salte asked him extending his hand.
"Delos," he replied taking it.
"We need to catch up with the rest," Salte said. Salte mounted his horse, "Come on." Delos got on, and they road off. The sun began to slip behind the mountains. The soldiers came to the camp and rode through.
"What has happened here?" one soldier asked. Trotes had gotten on a horse with one of the men when they took off and he managed to somewhat bind his wound after setting the bone with much pain.
"Were is everyone?" Trotes said to himself, "Where is C.."
"Sir! our head man is dead," A soldier said. Trotes got off the horse he was on and ran to the main tent. When Trotes saw the leader's pile of blood as he lay in bed, Trotes laughed to himself. "You're not favored anymore," he said to himself, "I'll take this as payment for putting up with you." Trotes reached down and took off a very expensive scarf that Crusas had kept from a raiding expedition that had put him in favor with Surel.
"Sir!"
Trotes quickly left the tent to see what was the matter.
"What?" he said sharply.
"Almost all of the cammanding officers are dead in their tents," a soldier told him. Trotes turned away looking at the ground trying to figure out what might have happened. The soldier watched him waiting for a command.
"Sir?"
"Get the men together with as many supplies as we can get," Trotes said, "We're riding through the night. We're getting away from here."
"Yes, sir," the soldier said happily, "But what of our mission?"
"We haven't seen the last of that boy," Trotes said, "When he catches up with us, he'll have to follow us to his death to save hers. We'll tell Surel that the rest of the Outcaste died in the skirmish."
"Understood," the soldier said, and he rode off to get the band together. Trotes found a horse still tied off and got on. Tortes looked around at the dark setting and then to the pass that towered ominously in the darkness of the no-moon night.
"Surel shouldn't have messed with that place," Trotes said. Then he turned his horse and sped to where the group had gathered and they galloped for Calton Capital. The night deepend and Simon, Price and Claude arrived at the same time. The soldiers had been gone for a while and Price and Claude were feeling their hunger now.
"I thought we'd have some time to get food before all this started happening," Price said. Claude nodded.
"I'll find you some food," Simon said jumping off of his horse. Simon searched quickly for anything he could find. He found plenty. He brought bread and some meat with some vegtables; he was getting hungry too. They sat down at the west edge of the empty came and ate their food rather swiftly, but they still could not go yet; Claude and Price had to rest. Claude looked at Price and then at Simon.
"One of us has to tell the Elder what happened and what we are doing," Claude said, "We're in deep now." The three sat in agreement. They had never had to undertake anything this delicate.
"We may not come back from this," Price said, "Saving royalty can't be an easy job."
"I don't care; I'm going," Simon replied. Claude nodded.
"I'll tell the Elder," he said, "Then I'll catch up with you two."
"Alright," Simon agreed, "I'm ready to go when you are Price."
"Hold on. What are we going to do about Salte," Price asked, "He sticks out as badly as you do."
"He's got a guide with him," Simon replied, "The soldier I helped will be able to guide him and get him through the tough spots."
"Okay. Is the Mayor all right?" Price asked. Simon shook his head.
"I see." Price said turning to Claude, "The Elder will be sorry to hear that."
"You two should leave as soon as you can," Claude said, "I'm leaving after Salte gets here."
The three rested a little longer and nibbled on some more food. The twins were full now and they could now conentrate enough to be stealthy again.
"I'll see you in three or four days," Claude said to Simon and his brother.
Simon and Price got up and mounted Simon's horse. Claude got up and patted the horse, and Simon and Price started on their chase. Claude watched them as far as he could in the night and then waited on that west side of the empty camp. Moments later, he saw Salte coming on his horse with his spear lit. Claude walked out and waved his hands to get Salte's attention. When Salte saw him he rode over too him.
"Simon and Price went after the men just a little before you arrived," Claude said.
"I thought he would," Salte said, "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to tell the Elder. And then I"m coming after you."
"Delos, how do you get to Calton Capital?" Salte asked.
"Just follow this North Mountain range. They're called the Great Mountains," Delos replied, "I'll find us some more horses." He dismounted and hurried into the camp where they would keep the horses.
"I can find my way. I'll hide my hand," Claude said.
"Our dialect is what gives us away," Salte said.
"Only to the learned," Claude replied, "I'll choose my conversations wisely."
"Okay, are you feeling healthy," Salte asked him.
"No, but I don't want any more help," Claude said. Delos came back with two horses.
"Here, these are two of my former officer's horses. They're quite fast. But I noticed you got the best one," Delos said to Salte. Salte smiled and patted his horse on the neck. Claude got on one of the horses.
"Any tips for riding this thing," Claude asked Delos. Delos mounted his horse and gave some riding tips to Claude.
"Just remember they have personalities," Delos said, "So treat HER well."
"Since you put it that way," Claude said patting his horse. Salte turned to go. "Come as soon as you can," Salte told him and he rode off. Delos nodded and Claude nodded back. And each went their way.

A Story of Signifigance

The point has been brought to my attention by myself that the story I have been writing may seem like some sort of wishfulfillment, childhood dreamcaste, or escapist fantasy. While all of that does ting the whole thing a lot, these are not the main reasons for writing this story, or any story in particular. Any time someone tells a story, it is because he or she has observed some aspect of life and wants to re-create it, either in the context in which he oberved it (realism) or some other context exagerated to make it interesting or understated to make it thought provoking. All stories have some meaning and a good story, I've been told, is not born out of ease and swiftness. William Faulkner once said, "Kill your darlings" or something like that. He was talking to writers who needed to revise their work. What he was jabbing at was that one has to be ready to scratch their favorite part of a story or any other writing if it does not work for the rest of the story, hence Legend of Myth would probably go through many changes before I even take the work seriously as a finished publishable product. Any way I look at it, I want this to be more than just a neat story. However, Legend of Myth is a fantasy, which means it is almost completely furnished from only my understanding of how an existance exists with ideas added and tweaked, and as we all know with algebra, you can't add something somewhere unless you subtract something from somewhere else, unless there are some things we don't know. (I don't remember why I put that algebra statement in there, but I hate math, so if I mention it in an arguement, then the point must have been important, so I'm leaving it in here. It'll come to me) Anyway, what things that I deem important and what things I deem trivial and just a matter of situational nessecity, such as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west on earth, but in Legend of Myth it rises in the west and sets in the east. That was purposeful, one, because it gives this planet an identity apart from ours. If every aspect of the planet was just like ours, then it would be our planet, except on the other side of the galaxy, where this one is imagined to be located. How monotonous would that be. Two, I want to eliminate any monolithic ideas of the west as a progress toward heaven or betterment in this story. Three, because I want the reader to be shaken on the idea of normal. Is something normal because we deem it normal or because it is normal. What does normal mean and is it as important as so many people think it is? It is if you're weak and naive. "Normal" changes as a person grows in knowlege. If there is another world were the sun rises in the west and sets in the east then our idea of a "normal" sunset is simply egocentric, like "up" and "down" and therefore, possibly tainted with some sort of arrogance. Of course, I don't need to change the setting of the sun to prove our arrogance.
My story is a story of people in an existance. However, I love exploration, history, literature, and abnormal events and I like to know why and how some things come to be. (If I can understand.) And I like some things to be a mystery. (In a story this is good, but liking people to be a mystery is rather...um...what's a good word...foolish...jerk...wrong...degrading...uncaring, despitefull, that's the word I'm looking for, despitefull.) Anywho, In this world I can create all of this, in which case if one has knowlege of these in real life they can judge just how much I know of reality and my ideal of reality just by reading Legend of Myth.
In other words, I am creating a world in which I can exspress a reality and not be judged for it as anything but a good or bad writer, the later being the greater possibility. In this world are values, abilities to percieve formal reality, and wishes for reality come through, with some twists and turns thrown in to make things interesting, idealistically. The funny thing about changing the physical aspects, you can't ever change the moral or the ethical or the other important intangible aspects of reality. Fascinating, because if you do, then all you have is justified crime.
This is no defense of my writing or my story, this is what Legend of Myth means to me. It will get pretty wild later on. I'm not THAT interested in reality.

The Setting

A wise man once told me the test of who you are is what comes out under pressure, and what comes out when someone tells you 'no' in answer to your ambitions. The setting begins with the Outcaste who were told 'no' for 4000 years (a bit of a long time, if I were to revise this story that would probably change) by me and by the Northlands. They are under tremendous strain for survival because of a situation they opened up to themselves. The setting is what I use to give context to the strength of the SouthLanders. How would you react if people ostrasized you for your sins or your mistakes? How would a strong person act? What if the ones who ostrisized you were just as bad, they just happened to have the upper hand at the time? What exactly determines the strength of an individual? Without the setting, my definition of strength would just be some abstract term that any reader could just blow off. But if I give a context, even if it is just my understanding, one still has to consider my definition of strenght, in the case of the Outcaste, strength of character, which according to this story is the only thing that allows this world to be saved. There is nothing any person can put in a story that did not have some base in reality. A mermaid is made of woman and fish, both of which exist, albeit independantly. If the outcastes are this strong of heart, then this strength existed or exists. I can only present something that has been observed. We do not have the ability to create perfectly new basic ideas. We can only piece together existing ideas to creat compounded ideas.

Jesus Christ, according the New Testiment, had the ultimate setting for the context of strength. Even if you don't believe in the New Testiment, you have to consider that definition of strength as compared to...say...your own, in which case you would then have to consider were you lacked Jesus's strength, how much and why. In his case, He is God and all the things that encompass God, and we are not. As much as we would like to believe we are, we will never move past our pride, arrogance, selfishness and greed, least any think we are progressing in society.
However, Jesus was also man which means God was tempted at the same level that we are tempted, and by not surrendering, he proved his godhood and defeated the Accuser, Hillary Clinton, or Satan, which ever name you prefer..

The function of the Southlanders, the reader will find out later in the story, was to be a type of Christ, all together, the Magus, the Soul Knights and the Shadow Wisps, but they, even with all of their marvelous abilities, failed because they were human. I'll write more about this when it comes time for me to discuss my characters.

The Language

I suppose an explination concerning why all my characters speak English is in order. It's truly quite simple. I translate. Creating a language is actually simple, but time consuming. It's much easier for me to just say every thing is translated. This is, after all, an entire planet I'm going to be dealing with. That means I've got to create it's sciences, it's histories, it's literature, it's philosophies, it's religions. Who wants to deal with something as tedious as a language? As far as names go, most, as the reader can tell, are not very similar to ours, but some of the pronunciation of the names in the story are so close to names or even words here that I just go ahead and translate them that way. However, the meaning of the names are completely different from what the names would mean here, naturally. Whatever the name Simon means here, the chances are it means something totally different there because I just gave it our spelling. Simon in the language of the Southlanders, which is it's origin, means peaceful warrior. Each letter in the their language means something by itself, once paired it can take a phonetical sound, though sometimes it retains its meaning if the context calls for it. The letter translated "S" actually is a blend between "s" and "z" sounds and means "calm" sometimes "passive." The letter translated "I" means "complete" or sometimes "best." and the spelling "mon" is a case when two letters keep their definition while the "o" turns phonetical. The one translated "M" means something along the lines of "strong" or "steady" while "N" which in their language is not next to "M" means agressor. See now why I just went a ahead and translated. The name "Love," does not mean "love" like the word I translate "love." The name Love that I gave to that character means "true companion," a fall out of love. Although, I do like to play around with the sounds, like in chapter six. The names of the family, Faith, Hope, and Charity, sound nothing like their original words, I just gave the translation for what they ment instead of giving their actual phonetical sounds. Plus, they pronounce many of the letters similarly but with slight differences. Phew, anyway, just trust me on the language deal, you don't want none of it. Just leave it to me.