3. Blade Dancer

Blade Dancer


  • Sky sat crossed legged in the middle of a glenn, humming a long, sad tune to her self, and to all around her, if they dared hear it. Slowly, the humming grew deeper, then she was climbing through her mind, using ladders and ropes made by music and passion. Thanks to these two things, she was learning to climpse emotion and tides of inspiration.
    She searched deeper for her gift, if she dared call it that , her muse as it were. Then suddenly she had it, a brillant burst of light and sounds, bells singing, angels chorsing, the entrie world about her was recorded here.
    She opened her dove grey eyes and swiflty picked up a pair of sharp, fine elven blades. She stood perfectly still as she waited for the muse to fill her, her neck arched, her hair falling freely over her shoulders, she felt the moves whispered to her, her weak body just had to comply.
    She held the blades out in front of her then drew a arc slowly around her self, her feet moving with cats grace, she moved silently for a while, until her soul felt it self moving to a fast and dire beat. Her moves quicker, sharper, stronger, she was getting more gracfuly by the moment, her feet causing dust to rise from the ground.
    For a short time in that place, she had found her muses perfection. She stood still as she held the blade over her had, her figure becoming a cast shadow over the tiny glenn. The sun bursting behind in soft, gentle folds, bathing her in a king warm light, a ligth which macthed the colour of her now tiger gold eyes.
    The dust rose up and clung to her glistening body, causing her to sneeze. The music and the bright colours faded as did her emotions, but just before a slight happy smiled traced her lips. She had felt it stronger this time, and had been able to call on it. She had found the power of her muse at last.


  • Suddenly Sky was wavering on a calm ocean, being washed ashore a beach. She opened her grey eyes and looked about slowly, pushing her palms into the sand and steading her self up. She spat out the taste of salt water from her mouth and stumbled away from the sea. Where in the Abyss was she? A slight shrug of her shoulders pushed the fearful thought aside and she moved on, the sand making soft slurpy noises under foot until she left the wet area. She placed her hand on a tree and studied it carfefully, it was a strange tree, it had layers like scales and wide spread leave, like a fan. She cocked her head and pressed her ear the trunk, trying to hear it speak to her, as all nature was meant to. Nothing.
    She chewed her lip a moment and thought of what she was going to do. Shelter, food, water, the main things she'd have to get to survive. Though she felt little desire to do this, somehow she knew she would be fine with out those things. She turned around and spread her self on the sand. spread out in the same postoin she had suposidly died in.
    In a blink the warm scene was gone, and mind blowling pain, she was being carried. It was to warm and blury to make out who it was, she could smell and feel that it was a elf.
    At least I won't have to speak common she thought to her self She felt the sensation of being laid down on grass and could hear a soft mumbling, maybe in common or elvish, she couldn't tell. Then she felt the weave being tapped into, a very advanced healing spell. It covered her in warmth and healed her gushing heart, knitting the dead fibres back together and creating more blood at a abnormal rate. A cool hand rested it self on her fore head, gently stroking her hair away from her face. Her eyes forced them sleves to focus, and she felt a pang in her stomach and a slight thump of her hear, she heard a stifled gasp as she blined again.
    It was one of her brothers from the camp, a elf by the name of Elith. She whispered softly in the only tounge she knew, elfvish.
    "Brother?" She asked dazily.
    "Easy Sister, you are still weak, here drink this." He whispered back, concern branched his voice as he fumbled for a flask and held her head up to take a sip of warm sweet wine. Sky felt terriblely confused, she felt weak and tired yet she wanted to jump and dance around still her cheeks were red and her breath fast. Affection was such a strange thing…


  • Sky yawned and strechted her body, she felt a little stiff from spending the night in that tree. She lept down from the tree with catly grace and landed squarelly on all fours. Her eyes flickered around the Nars pass, it was a crisp cool morning of spring time. The breeze whispered to her, the birds sung songs, a horse nickered in the distance. The swift feel of a club in her back brought her out of her day dream. She could hear a low ragered breathing, and some one spit something out. Then speak in harsh heavily accented common.
    "Aye ye be a nice prize for family, should keep us going fu'r a while!" The eastlander grinned as he started to tug at her clothes and search her body for anything of value. He stopped around her breasts, taking his sweet time looking for anything. Sky felt like a load of dirt had been kicked into her face and eyes, traveling down her lungs and blocking her breath. Finally the hands moved it's way down to her stomach and patted her pipes hung which on her waist.
    "Ah ye be a bard! Evan better! AH hope ya cin sing little miss." He grinned to himself. Ideas were already running through his head now, slave/entertainter. Not a bad idea infact. He kicked at her bare feet which caused Sky to retract into a tiny ball. She started to mumble words and sob quietly. This is what fear felt like.
    "Get up, Ah ain't carri'in ya!" He kicked at her again and sighed at the sobbing elf on the floor. He fumbled on his belt but couldn't find any rope. Instead he drew his short sword and dug it into her side, making her flinch and try to curl up into a evenvtighter ball.
    "AH SAID GET UP!!!" He let loose his rag and stabbed her leg this time, crimsion blood rising and staining her purple performers outfit. She lashed out with her other good leg, landing hard and fast in the Eastlanders unprotected crotch. He winnced and dropped his sword, going red with pain and curses.
    "Ya little…...Bitch!" He huffed. He tried to get up but he fell down crippled. Instead he reached for the short sword and brought it down upon her breast. Sky's now blue eyes opened up in fear, feeling the life flowing away from her body, with the needed blood slowly draining away. She turned her head to the side to face the darking sky, the breeze whispering good bye. The birds singing a soft gentle tune.


  • Sky opened her eyes wide a moment, a flush of a feeling on her cheeks, a squirming sensation in her stomach. In a flash it was gone. She cocked her head and looked down at the birdpipes on her lap, she began to tap on the pipes. To start, it was a simple then it began to overlay and get stronger, faster and more complex. It's hollowed beat started to take form of a flying bird, her eyes seeing the vision of a eagle flying, proud wings spread wide. It glided over the gaintspire moutains, the clouds shadow reflected upon it's back and wings. Suddenly it took a strong dive, pulling it's wings to the sides and hurling it self to the earth. Soon the image of the bird became a blur as it grew faster. The veiw seemed to grow wider as a vast lake came into view. She saw the brown blur dive into the water. Her drum beat stopped at a climax, her fingers poised, ready to start again.
    Suddenly the bird broke free of the watery death and resurfacing with a new pride and luster to it's being. In it's wet claws, was clasped a dead fish.
    The vision ended it self there for Sky. The final sounds still echoing around her head and on her birdpipes. She has glimpsed pride.


  • Nee ya, lo may keey nay….
    Ial noh gaht mus teee.....
    She heard the soft sounds of this strange song playing around her head, it often did before she slept under the stars. It was a confusing noise at first, until she had calmed and listened to the gentle curves and smoothe arcs of this dead lanuage. Her dove grey eyes scanned the night sky for a while, looking at all the stars and the bright moon. It was always peaceful here, in the warm glenn of her home,this warm tree. She was curled up in a tiny ball, in a man made hole in the base of the old dead oak. Her ponty ears picked up the old moans of the oak, nature speaking to her as did it all the other elfs. She mouthed the words carfrully, trying to catch them perfectly on her lips, make the sounds arch and rise as it should, make it perfect.