The knife trailed down and rested right below Jacov's jaw. "'N-no!'" Alon mocked. "You're pathetic. You are absolutely nothing to me and once you're gone, you'll be nothing to Alon, too."
"Jacov!?" a startled cry came.
Jacov squeezed his eyes shut but he didn't dare turn his head. "Da!"
The blade whipped up , slashing at Jacov's face with each word. "I. Said. Do. Not. Speak!"
Tears dripped from his eyes, stinging the cuts. Whimpers bubbled from his lips. Suddenly, the weight vanished from his body and Jacov opened his eyes.
He lay pressed into the snow and watched shellshocked as his father pinned Alon and held the knife to his throat.
"Don't touch my son!" his father yelled.
Alon grinned insanely and began to laugh. "I already have! Look at him!"
Jacov sat up, shivering tremendously. The blood dripped in streams down his face. He tried to choke the words from his throat while his father snarled in Alon's face. The knife pressed into Alon's throat, nearly breaking the skin. "S-st-stop!" Jacov shouted. He couldn't move; every muscle in his body locked.
His father looked at him incredulously. "What!? After what he did to you, you want him alive!?"
Jacov let the tears fall, not caring how much his father hated them. "Yes! I want him alive!"
His father shook his head. "No, Jacov." Quick as that, he slit Alon's throat.
Alon's eyes cleared and he sucked in a deep, popping breath. It did him no good. "Ja-c! H-lp!"
Jacov scrambled to the boy filling the snow with his blood. "Alon! No!" He grabbed Alon's hand and held it tight as the lights left his love's eyes. "A-Alon...?"
There was no answer.
A moment of sorrow filled silence passed before Jacov's father spoke in a quiet voice. "Jacov, who was this boy?"
Jacov scowled and turned his bloody, tearstained face. He tackled his father to the ground. "Why did you do that!?" he screamed.
His father pushed Jacov off of him and yanked him to his feet. "He was going to kill you, Jacov!"
Jacov grabbed the collar of his father's shirt and hauled off, decking him dead in the face. "Bastard! I loved him!"
His da's head snapped back and he grabbed Jacov, throwing him against a tree. He turned, looking absolutely astonished. "Don't play games, son."
Jacov sat up, dazed. "I'm not. Playing. Games!" He lunged at his father and swung him against the tree. He lost total control and pulled back, punching him in the face over and over. He pulled back again, insanity in his eyes, but one look at his father's angry and sorrowful face stopped him.
His father's face crumpled. "You aren't the son I raised. You're not worth the pain your mother sacrificed to save you. If you had died like you should've, she would still be alive! The world would be better off without you! You're just the mistake of God; worthless!"
A sob choked out and Jacov hit his father one last time. This time, though, there was a sharp crack and his father went limp. Jacov dropped him in shock and stepped back, horror written across his face. What happened? Why...why isn't he getting up? Why isn't he blinking?
Jacov kneeled and pressed his fingers to his father's neck to feel desperately for a pulse. Nothing.
He scrambled back from his father's body. His hand hit something cold and solid. He turned.
Alon.
Jacov leapt to his feet, pale faced, and ran. He didn't know where he was running but it was away. Away from everything.
Away from the cold death.
Away from Alon's love.
Away from his father's hate.
Away from the blood stained snow.
-------
A/N: m-m-m...meep o^o it almost killed me to do that. ...was it sad enough? :D
Monday, 19 September 2011
Sunday, 18 September 2011
Chapter 9: Changed
Jacov walked cheerfully towards the little covered stream that was his and Alon's winter meeting place. His da had decided to give him a free day as his birth month was nearing. Although it was cold, Jacov couldn't wait to surprise Alon with a visit during the day.
As Jacov slid across the frozen stream, he opened his mouth to call out a greeting. However, he jumped behind a tree as a strong aura of defensive terror met him. He slowly peeked his head from behind the tree, scanning for Alon. Was he hurt? Was he in danger?
A frustrated cry came from beside the stream followed by the crack of ice. Jacov's head snapped to the side, looking for a sign of threat. What he saw was his love crouched by the broken water, head bowed. Alon was shaking with his hands clenched in white knuckled fists. Jacov slowly stepped out of his cover. "Alon, what's going on?"
Alon swung around and fell on his back. He sat up quickly and scrambled away. "No! Go, now!"
Jacov walked towards Alon, snow clumping on his pant-legs. "What's happening?" The closer Jacov came, the more panicked Alon became.
"Don't come near me!" Alon stumbled to his feet and threw an handful of snow at the other. "I'll kill you! I can't kill you!"
Jacov stopped in his tracks and watched as Alon's grey eyes swirled with red tints. They flitted back and forth looking for an escape. Jacov picked up a sense of an emotion he'd never seen before except for...Alon's memory. It was a watered down version of that uncontrollable insanity. Jacov took a step back when realization lit his mind. Alon was about to lose control of his demon.
Alon turned as if to run but doubled over, clutching his stomach. "Agh!" a pained yell came. He fell to his side, curled into himself with his eyes squeezed shut. Jacov didn't move. What was happening?
It was only a few moments in a frost filled silence before Alon's body wept limp. Jacov's heart began to beat faster. Was Alon unconscious? Was he dead?!
Then Alon stirred, his eyes blinking open slowly. He sat up shakily and turned to look at Jacov but once his eyes set on his love, he leapt to his feet. Jacov jumped back in surprise and his breath caught in his throat when he saw Alon's deep red irises.
Alon straightened up in a stiff, strict posture. He brushed the snow off his body with quick jerky movements. Then he looked at Jacov.
Jacov could not suppress a shiver at the cold, vacant look that Alon rested on Jacov's face. Alon cocked his head to the side, looking almost intrigued. The changed boy walked up to Jacov and circled him closely. Alon stopped in front of Jacov without any expression. Then his eyes narrowed and his face split in a cruel grin.
"You are Jacov, are you?" Alon said. Jacov's breath hitched. He couldn't respond.
Jacov's whole body tensed as Alon began circling him again. "Alon told me not to hurt you. I promised I wouldn't." A cold hand snaked up and caressed Jacov's cheek and an arm wrapped itself around his chest. Jacov began shivering as Alon pulled their bodies together. Breath stirred the hair around Jacov's ear. "Alon always honors a promise. I am not Alon."
Jacov heard a small click as a knife left it's sheath. Cold steel pressed itself to his mouth and twisted. "It's not what Alon wants, lover boy." Jacov's shivering increased.
"A-Alon, p-p-please-"
"Alon isn't here right now!" Jacov gasped as the metal bit into his flesh, slicing a clean line down his lip. Warm blood fell from the cut and dripped down Jacov's chin.
Alon's grip around Jacov's waist tightened. "Don't speak anymore, love. I'm going to have my fun with you." Alon turned Jacov quickly and shoved him to the ground. Alon pinned Jacov and positioned the knife against his cheek. "You're a pretty little boy, Jacov and Alon loves you oh so very much. However, it's an unfortunate joy of mine to want my host to suffer. He's too easy to aggravate, though." The knife pressed harder and Alon's face twisted in a scowl. "Just my luck to be trapped in the body of such a wuss. My luck for him to keep me hidden! He wants me gone; dead! Oh, no. This will destroy him." A sick grin broke across and Alon leaned in until his was not even an inch from Jacov's face. "Killing you will set me free."
"N-no!" Jacov whimpered. It tore him apart to see Alon like this. Strike that; this was not Alon. This was not Alon at all.
-------
A/N: IM GETTING IMPATIENT! ...and so I've split the chapter and given yinz guys a cliffhanger. After this TEH TRUE DRAMA IS STARTING :'D
As Jacov slid across the frozen stream, he opened his mouth to call out a greeting. However, he jumped behind a tree as a strong aura of defensive terror met him. He slowly peeked his head from behind the tree, scanning for Alon. Was he hurt? Was he in danger?
A frustrated cry came from beside the stream followed by the crack of ice. Jacov's head snapped to the side, looking for a sign of threat. What he saw was his love crouched by the broken water, head bowed. Alon was shaking with his hands clenched in white knuckled fists. Jacov slowly stepped out of his cover. "Alon, what's going on?"
Alon swung around and fell on his back. He sat up quickly and scrambled away. "No! Go, now!"
Jacov walked towards Alon, snow clumping on his pant-legs. "What's happening?" The closer Jacov came, the more panicked Alon became.
"Don't come near me!" Alon stumbled to his feet and threw an handful of snow at the other. "I'll kill you! I can't kill you!"
Jacov stopped in his tracks and watched as Alon's grey eyes swirled with red tints. They flitted back and forth looking for an escape. Jacov picked up a sense of an emotion he'd never seen before except for...Alon's memory. It was a watered down version of that uncontrollable insanity. Jacov took a step back when realization lit his mind. Alon was about to lose control of his demon.
Alon turned as if to run but doubled over, clutching his stomach. "Agh!" a pained yell came. He fell to his side, curled into himself with his eyes squeezed shut. Jacov didn't move. What was happening?
It was only a few moments in a frost filled silence before Alon's body wept limp. Jacov's heart began to beat faster. Was Alon unconscious? Was he dead?!
Then Alon stirred, his eyes blinking open slowly. He sat up shakily and turned to look at Jacov but once his eyes set on his love, he leapt to his feet. Jacov jumped back in surprise and his breath caught in his throat when he saw Alon's deep red irises.
Alon straightened up in a stiff, strict posture. He brushed the snow off his body with quick jerky movements. Then he looked at Jacov.
Jacov could not suppress a shiver at the cold, vacant look that Alon rested on Jacov's face. Alon cocked his head to the side, looking almost intrigued. The changed boy walked up to Jacov and circled him closely. Alon stopped in front of Jacov without any expression. Then his eyes narrowed and his face split in a cruel grin.
"You are Jacov, are you?" Alon said. Jacov's breath hitched. He couldn't respond.
Jacov's whole body tensed as Alon began circling him again. "Alon told me not to hurt you. I promised I wouldn't." A cold hand snaked up and caressed Jacov's cheek and an arm wrapped itself around his chest. Jacov began shivering as Alon pulled their bodies together. Breath stirred the hair around Jacov's ear. "Alon always honors a promise. I am not Alon."
Jacov heard a small click as a knife left it's sheath. Cold steel pressed itself to his mouth and twisted. "It's not what Alon wants, lover boy." Jacov's shivering increased.
"A-Alon, p-p-please-"
"Alon isn't here right now!" Jacov gasped as the metal bit into his flesh, slicing a clean line down his lip. Warm blood fell from the cut and dripped down Jacov's chin.
Alon's grip around Jacov's waist tightened. "Don't speak anymore, love. I'm going to have my fun with you." Alon turned Jacov quickly and shoved him to the ground. Alon pinned Jacov and positioned the knife against his cheek. "You're a pretty little boy, Jacov and Alon loves you oh so very much. However, it's an unfortunate joy of mine to want my host to suffer. He's too easy to aggravate, though." The knife pressed harder and Alon's face twisted in a scowl. "Just my luck to be trapped in the body of such a wuss. My luck for him to keep me hidden! He wants me gone; dead! Oh, no. This will destroy him." A sick grin broke across and Alon leaned in until his was not even an inch from Jacov's face. "Killing you will set me free."
"N-no!" Jacov whimpered. It tore him apart to see Alon like this. Strike that; this was not Alon. This was not Alon at all.
-------
A/N: IM GETTING IMPATIENT! ...and so I've split the chapter and given yinz guys a cliffhanger. After this TEH TRUE DRAMA IS STARTING :'D
Thursday, 1 September 2011
Chapter 8: So...How Are You?
Jacov paced the copse, fiddling with his gloves nervously. He kept changing his mind. Should he stay? Should he leave? That kiss the night before nearly convinced Jacov to stay away from the copse forever and ever.
Yet he came back.
A noise from the edge of the trees shot Jacov to his feet in a near militaristic attention. A hesitant tawny-haired figure stepped from behind a tree. "Jacov?"
Jacov gulped. No turning back now. Alon now knew that he couldn't stay away. However, Jacov's heart soared in his chest when he remembered that Alon came back, too. "Hallo!" he said, voice cracking.
Alon came forward and stopped a meter away. "So...how are you?"
Jacov sighed. "Oh, cut the crap. We need to talk about yesterday."
Alon bit his lip. "I...I don't even know how that happened."
"We were just so close together," Jacov replied. "It happened so fast."
Alon came up until he was standing right in front of Jacov. They stood in a heat filled silence until Alon broke it with a simple few words. "Jacov, I love you."
Jacob's heart beat faster. His knees felt weak. His mind was spinning as his stomach rolled. It felt like he was sick, but it was like no sickness he ever knew. It was good.
The reply came in a whisper. "I can tell you're not lying..."
Alon's eyes searched Jacov's face in deep worry. "W-well? You know I'm not lying. So...so...how do you feel?"
Jacov couldn't answer, his breathing seemingly stuck. "My father will hate me. He'll never want to see me again."
Alon grabbed Jacov's arms and pulled his body against his own. "Do you love me?"
It was all to perfect. Alon's crystal clear grey eyes. His fair, freckled skin. The wind played with his golden bangs, the moonlight adding an otherworldly sheen to the picture. Jacov couldn't think; he couldn't speak.
Alon's brow furrowed. "Do you?"
Jacov didn't remember why or why not; he just did it. He leaned down to the shorter boy and closed the ever shrinking distance between his lips and Alon's.
There was a small gasp from the receiving end of this perhaps awkwardly executed show of affection, but the moment went on for seconds, minutes, years.
Pulling away, they stared at each other until Alon initiated the hug of the century. He sobbed into Jacov's chest while the latter held him tight in confusion. "Alon, what on Earth is there to be upset about?"
A choking sound came from the boy. "I'm happy!"
Jacov pried Alon from his chest and kissed his forehead. "Does this mean we're together?"
Alon wiped his eyes and nodded. "Uh huh. We are."
Another kiss, a hug goodbye, and they went their separate ways. Jacov walked home like he was on air. He loved someone. And that someone loved him.
-------
A/N: I luff dis chaptarrr!\shot ...I just love Alon to death. I enjoy writing intense feelings :3 Yet still I am unsatisfied with the lengths of my chapters. Blarg
Yet he came back.
A noise from the edge of the trees shot Jacov to his feet in a near militaristic attention. A hesitant tawny-haired figure stepped from behind a tree. "Jacov?"
Jacov gulped. No turning back now. Alon now knew that he couldn't stay away. However, Jacov's heart soared in his chest when he remembered that Alon came back, too. "Hallo!" he said, voice cracking.
Alon came forward and stopped a meter away. "So...how are you?"
Jacov sighed. "Oh, cut the crap. We need to talk about yesterday."
Alon bit his lip. "I...I don't even know how that happened."
"We were just so close together," Jacov replied. "It happened so fast."
Alon came up until he was standing right in front of Jacov. They stood in a heat filled silence until Alon broke it with a simple few words. "Jacov, I love you."
Jacob's heart beat faster. His knees felt weak. His mind was spinning as his stomach rolled. It felt like he was sick, but it was like no sickness he ever knew. It was good.
The reply came in a whisper. "I can tell you're not lying..."
Alon's eyes searched Jacov's face in deep worry. "W-well? You know I'm not lying. So...so...how do you feel?"
Jacov couldn't answer, his breathing seemingly stuck. "My father will hate me. He'll never want to see me again."
Alon grabbed Jacov's arms and pulled his body against his own. "Do you love me?"
It was all to perfect. Alon's crystal clear grey eyes. His fair, freckled skin. The wind played with his golden bangs, the moonlight adding an otherworldly sheen to the picture. Jacov couldn't think; he couldn't speak.
Alon's brow furrowed. "Do you?"
Jacov didn't remember why or why not; he just did it. He leaned down to the shorter boy and closed the ever shrinking distance between his lips and Alon's.
There was a small gasp from the receiving end of this perhaps awkwardly executed show of affection, but the moment went on for seconds, minutes, years.
Pulling away, they stared at each other until Alon initiated the hug of the century. He sobbed into Jacov's chest while the latter held him tight in confusion. "Alon, what on Earth is there to be upset about?"
A choking sound came from the boy. "I'm happy!"
Jacov pried Alon from his chest and kissed his forehead. "Does this mean we're together?"
Alon wiped his eyes and nodded. "Uh huh. We are."
Another kiss, a hug goodbye, and they went their separate ways. Jacov walked home like he was on air. He loved someone. And that someone loved him.
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A/N: I luff dis chaptarrr!\shot ...I just love Alon to death. I enjoy writing intense feelings :3 Yet still I am unsatisfied with the lengths of my chapters. Blarg
Saturday, 27 August 2011
Chapter 7: All Signs
One moment they'd been ready to tear each other's throats out and the next, it was confused heaven for the both of them.
It was total bliss with a pulsating golden glow surrounding their forms until realisation hit and Jacov pulled back with a startled cry. He stared at Alon, the both of them looking at each other like startled rabbits. Words spluttered their way from his mouth. "Wh-what?! What did-? What did we just-?!"
Alon sat up with horrified look on his face. "I don't know! I didn't mean to-!" His words choked off as Jacov scrambled to his feet and took off, racing in a random direction. Alon pounded his heads with his hands and yelled at nothing. "I'm sorry!"
Jacov ran. All he could hear was the sound of his heavy breathing and the pounding of his heart. He soon reached a stream bed and fell to his knees, panting. His heart continued to beat out of sync and he thought frantically to the past event.
First, Jacov was wary of Alon. Then, Alon dissed Jacov's father. Jacov yelled at Alon. Alon yelled at Jacov. They fought with unrestrained violence and suddenly...
Their lips touched.
Sparks flew.
It was explosions in his head and in his heart.
The golden glow was identified at once. It was the glow of love.
Jacov sat back on his heels, thoroughly puzzled. How could he love Alon? Was it not man to lie with woman? How could he, a boy, be in love with another?
The fire crackled softly that next night. Jacov sat on his bedroll, hugging his knees and staring into the flame. His stare was broken as his father stoked the base. "What are you thinking, Jacov?" he asked.
Jacov hesitated for a moment before answering. "I was thinking...can a man love another man?"
There was a chilled silence where his father's stare bore holes into Jacov's head. "Why do you ask?" was the icy reply.
Jacov answered immediately but surprised himself with the easy lie. "Curiosity."
Jacov received a strange look when his father replied. "Yes. A few men do prefer other men to women. But, those men are the scum of humanity. It is wrong, against God's will, to love someone of the same sex."
Jacov stared back at the fire. "Okay." His mind was racing. He couldn't deny it. All signs pointed to it. He was undeniably in love with his best friend. But...did Alon feel the same way?
-------
A/N: Blarg so short a chapter BUT hold on to your hats: this chapter was split into two! Apart, they are relatively short. Together, it's way too long for me to be satisfied ._. And I'm cruel enough to test out a cliff hanger :D
It was total bliss with a pulsating golden glow surrounding their forms until realisation hit and Jacov pulled back with a startled cry. He stared at Alon, the both of them looking at each other like startled rabbits. Words spluttered their way from his mouth. "Wh-what?! What did-? What did we just-?!"
Alon sat up with horrified look on his face. "I don't know! I didn't mean to-!" His words choked off as Jacov scrambled to his feet and took off, racing in a random direction. Alon pounded his heads with his hands and yelled at nothing. "I'm sorry!"
Jacov ran. All he could hear was the sound of his heavy breathing and the pounding of his heart. He soon reached a stream bed and fell to his knees, panting. His heart continued to beat out of sync and he thought frantically to the past event.
First, Jacov was wary of Alon. Then, Alon dissed Jacov's father. Jacov yelled at Alon. Alon yelled at Jacov. They fought with unrestrained violence and suddenly...
Their lips touched.
Sparks flew.
It was explosions in his head and in his heart.
The golden glow was identified at once. It was the glow of love.
Jacov sat back on his heels, thoroughly puzzled. How could he love Alon? Was it not man to lie with woman? How could he, a boy, be in love with another?
The fire crackled softly that next night. Jacov sat on his bedroll, hugging his knees and staring into the flame. His stare was broken as his father stoked the base. "What are you thinking, Jacov?" he asked.
Jacov hesitated for a moment before answering. "I was thinking...can a man love another man?"
There was a chilled silence where his father's stare bore holes into Jacov's head. "Why do you ask?" was the icy reply.
Jacov answered immediately but surprised himself with the easy lie. "Curiosity."
Jacov received a strange look when his father replied. "Yes. A few men do prefer other men to women. But, those men are the scum of humanity. It is wrong, against God's will, to love someone of the same sex."
Jacov stared back at the fire. "Okay." His mind was racing. He couldn't deny it. All signs pointed to it. He was undeniably in love with his best friend. But...did Alon feel the same way?
-------
A/N: Blarg so short a chapter BUT hold on to your hats: this chapter was split into two! Apart, they are relatively short. Together, it's way too long for me to be satisfied ._. And I'm cruel enough to test out a cliff hanger :D
Monday, 22 August 2011
Chapter 6: Ho-ly...what!?
"Do you remember why we avoid magic?" Jacov's father spoke as they stripped sticks for the fire.
Jacov broke off a twig. "It is unnatural. It defies the order of Earth. Healing by magic is just as bad as man made remedies. Those disturb the natural speed the body takes to repair."
Jacov's father nodded. "Correct. Now, I have mentioned halfbloods to you, yes?"
Jacov nodded but his mind flew back to the night before.
He had met Alon at the usual place, but immediately sensed that something was up.
"Alon, what's wrong?" he had asked, alarmed by his friend's pasty complexion and nervous eyes.
Alon had edged away from Jacov. "Please, please don't hate me when I tell you."
Jacov had stepped towards Alon. "Never."
Alon had sat down heavily and squeezed his eyes shut with ill-concealed tears. "I'm not just human, Jacov!"
Jacov then sat by Alon and wrapped his arms around him in an attempt to comfort him. "What do you mean?"
Alon heaved a great sob and answered. "I'm demonblooded, Jacov! That's why I left my tribe!"
The dam broke and Jacov had been instantly enlightened with the uncontrollable murder at Alon's hands. But it hadn't been Alon. His eyes had been red and a crazy grin had been plastered across his face. Unbridled insanity streamed from this figure. So typically neatly combed hair in a mess, face streaked in blood.
The voice of Jacov's father snapped him to the present. "Halfbloods are people of demon descent. Always. Steer. Clear." Each word was punctuated with the break of a stick. His father threw the sticks onto a pile. "We have enough."
Jacov looked at his father. "Why should I steer clear?" His heart had begun to beat a little faster.
"They're murderous people," came the answer. "They will not even attempt to control the evil side of them. It's near impossible. If I ever see another..." One last stick snapped in two.
Jacov sat on a rock in their new meeting place. The old one seemed too in the open, so they found a small mossy copes circled by rocks. Their voices were muffled here.
Jacov stared at the ground, not bothering to scan for Alon. His arrival was announced by a hearty "Hey, Jacov!"
Jacov immediately turned to him and made a stern 'Holy crap, shut up!' gesture.
Alon approached with a hurt look on his face. "What up?"
Jacov stepped back, tense. "How much control do you have over your other side?"
"Uhm," Alon began. "Enough to not kill you every time I see you. Why?"
"Because my father hasn't had good experiences with halfbloods."
Alon snorted. "And your father was right all along about the tribespeople!" He made claws with his hands and stalked in mock intimidation towards Jacov. "Look at me! I'm a scary tribesman! I'm going to kill you and eat your children!"
Jacov scowled. "Don't talk like that about my father. You don't know what other tribes are like; they may not all be as kind as yours."
Alon scowled right back. "Not all halfbloods are as evil as made out to be! I've lost control once!"
"Only once?"
Alon threw his hands in the air with exasperation. "Twice! Only twice and the second time I only hurt myself!"
Jacov blinked in confusion and reluctance to beleive. "How did you hurt yourself?"
Alon pulled off his well worn shirt reveal well toned muscles for a fifteen year old. Jacob's mouth dropped open, but not at the state of Alon's physical musculature. Deep gouges marred his chest and arm, puffy pink scars and purple splotches made Jacov speechless.
"This is what I do!" Alon screamed. "This is what I do to others! I didn't choose to be like this!"
Jacov's face screwed up in pity, fear for his friend, and anger. Anger at who-knows-what. "I never said you did!"
Alon all but snarled. "You might as well have by the way you accused me like that."
"Like what?"
"With the words of that ass you call your father!"
Jacov stepped forward, furious. "I told you not to talk about him that way."
Alon matched the closing distance. "I'll call him what I like."
And suddenly they were both on the ground. They wrestled viscously, neither on top for more than a split second. They rolled around, kicking and landing flailing hits. They slammed into a tree and Jacov pinned Alon down. Jacov had a tight hold on Alon's shoulder and throat, but Alon had his knife pointed at the side of Jacov's neck. They panted, trembling, faces less than an inch apart. Crackling fury shot between them.
Then bliss.
-------
A/N: And you get no explanation! Bwahaha! And just for reference, proofreading is more than incredibly important. 'Shot' is very close to a well known cuss. JigsX Out
Jacov broke off a twig. "It is unnatural. It defies the order of Earth. Healing by magic is just as bad as man made remedies. Those disturb the natural speed the body takes to repair."
Jacov's father nodded. "Correct. Now, I have mentioned halfbloods to you, yes?"
Jacov nodded but his mind flew back to the night before.
He had met Alon at the usual place, but immediately sensed that something was up.
"Alon, what's wrong?" he had asked, alarmed by his friend's pasty complexion and nervous eyes.
Alon had edged away from Jacov. "Please, please don't hate me when I tell you."
Jacov had stepped towards Alon. "Never."
Alon had sat down heavily and squeezed his eyes shut with ill-concealed tears. "I'm not just human, Jacov!"
Jacov then sat by Alon and wrapped his arms around him in an attempt to comfort him. "What do you mean?"
Alon heaved a great sob and answered. "I'm demonblooded, Jacov! That's why I left my tribe!"
The dam broke and Jacov had been instantly enlightened with the uncontrollable murder at Alon's hands. But it hadn't been Alon. His eyes had been red and a crazy grin had been plastered across his face. Unbridled insanity streamed from this figure. So typically neatly combed hair in a mess, face streaked in blood.
The voice of Jacov's father snapped him to the present. "Halfbloods are people of demon descent. Always. Steer. Clear." Each word was punctuated with the break of a stick. His father threw the sticks onto a pile. "We have enough."
Jacov looked at his father. "Why should I steer clear?" His heart had begun to beat a little faster.
"They're murderous people," came the answer. "They will not even attempt to control the evil side of them. It's near impossible. If I ever see another..." One last stick snapped in two.
Jacov sat on a rock in their new meeting place. The old one seemed too in the open, so they found a small mossy copes circled by rocks. Their voices were muffled here.
Jacov stared at the ground, not bothering to scan for Alon. His arrival was announced by a hearty "Hey, Jacov!"
Jacov immediately turned to him and made a stern 'Holy crap, shut up!' gesture.
Alon approached with a hurt look on his face. "What up?"
Jacov stepped back, tense. "How much control do you have over your other side?"
"Uhm," Alon began. "Enough to not kill you every time I see you. Why?"
"Because my father hasn't had good experiences with halfbloods."
Alon snorted. "And your father was right all along about the tribespeople!" He made claws with his hands and stalked in mock intimidation towards Jacov. "Look at me! I'm a scary tribesman! I'm going to kill you and eat your children!"
Jacov scowled. "Don't talk like that about my father. You don't know what other tribes are like; they may not all be as kind as yours."
Alon scowled right back. "Not all halfbloods are as evil as made out to be! I've lost control once!"
"Only once?"
Alon threw his hands in the air with exasperation. "Twice! Only twice and the second time I only hurt myself!"
Jacov blinked in confusion and reluctance to beleive. "How did you hurt yourself?"
Alon pulled off his well worn shirt reveal well toned muscles for a fifteen year old. Jacob's mouth dropped open, but not at the state of Alon's physical musculature. Deep gouges marred his chest and arm, puffy pink scars and purple splotches made Jacov speechless.
"This is what I do!" Alon screamed. "This is what I do to others! I didn't choose to be like this!"
Jacov's face screwed up in pity, fear for his friend, and anger. Anger at who-knows-what. "I never said you did!"
Alon all but snarled. "You might as well have by the way you accused me like that."
"Like what?"
"With the words of that ass you call your father!"
Jacov stepped forward, furious. "I told you not to talk about him that way."
Alon matched the closing distance. "I'll call him what I like."
And suddenly they were both on the ground. They wrestled viscously, neither on top for more than a split second. They rolled around, kicking and landing flailing hits. They slammed into a tree and Jacov pinned Alon down. Jacov had a tight hold on Alon's shoulder and throat, but Alon had his knife pointed at the side of Jacov's neck. They panted, trembling, faces less than an inch apart. Crackling fury shot between them.
Then bliss.
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A/N: And you get no explanation! Bwahaha! And just for reference, proofreading is more than incredibly important. 'Shot' is very close to a well known cuss. JigsX Out
Tuesday, 16 August 2011
Chapter 5: Is It You?
Jacov sat silently in a tall oak as he watched his carefully concealed snare. That darn rabbit had been sitting right next to the thing for over ten minutes! Really, what animal just sits there for so long? Jacov tried to silently will the rabbit to the snare. It was only one hop in the right direction-
Suddenly the rabbit darted the wrong way, startled by a sound in the woods. Jacov cursed under his breath and slammed his fist against the tree. His head snapped upward, though, as he heard a voice and felt a heartbeat quicken.
"Hello?" the voice spoke. "Someone's there?"
Jacov's eyes narrowed. There was something about that voice. It was familiar but had he ever heard that deepened, rich tone? Jacov felt for the presence and saw a flash of tawny hair and wary grey eyes.
He called back. "I'm here...?" He cursed his uncertain questioning tone. His heartbeat skipped when the voice spoke again.
"Who are you?"
Jacov thought carefully. "How about showing yourself, first?"
A figure stepped out from behind a tree and Jacov had to stop himself from crying out. "Alon?" he called.
The figure discreetly drew a knife from a belt sheathe. Anyone else wouldn't have noticed but Jacov was trained to see such things. "How do you know me?" the figure said.
Jacov dropped from the tree and immediately had to sidestep to avoid the knife that lodged itself into the bark of the tree. "Cool it! It's me, Jacov!"
Alon's astonished face broke into a wide grin. "Jacov!" He jumped at Jacov and wrapped his arms around his neck, having to stand on tiptoe. Even at the age of of fourteen, Jacov was still taller than Alon by at least a head.
Alon pulled back and grinned at Jacov. "Well, how are you?"
Jacov grinned crookedly back. "Well enough. And how are you?"
Alon shrugged. "No better, no worse. Oh, holy gods, I've missed you!"
They laughed and hugged again. They sat and talked for what could've been hours. They'd been apart for so long; they had a lot of catching up to do!
Although, before they knew it, the sun had begun to set. Jacov looked up and noticed the darkening sky. With a short curse, he jumped to his feet. "Oh no! I didn't check my snares! Da expects me back by nightfall!"
Alon stood next to him. "Don't worry, I can help you! Just run and cut them down and I'll pick them up."
Jacov sighed. "Okay, just lend me your knife."
And so they went. Jacov ran and cut the filled snares with a crude, fraying slice. He shivered every time he heard the wire twang; he was taught that metal cutting weapons were the most disgraceful thing. Why kill or draw blood when there were more tasteful ways to disarm a foe?
Finally, Jacov tied the caught rabbits together by the snare strings and stood with them slung over his back. "Is this goodbye again?"
Alon looked at him gravely for a moment but than crossed his arms and shook his head. "No."
Jacov adjusted the rabbits and raised an eyebrow. "It was by chance that we met again, Alon."
Alon stayed firm. "And we will keep seeing each other."
"How? Do you expect us to sneak out every night? My father does NOT like the tribespeople," Jacov said.
Alon walked up to Jacov and poked him in the chest. "We'll sneak away whether your father likes it or not. Jacov, you were my first and maybe only real friend. Ever."
Jacov rubbed his chest where Alon had jabbed him with his finger, feeling a strange warm feeling from the spot. "Alon, you're the only friend I've ever had. But where will we meet? And what happens when my da and I leave for our winter spot?"
Alon thought for a moment. "Then...we'll meet here and I'll follow you to your winter spot."
Jacov looked at him in shock. "What about your tribe?"
"I don't live in a tribe anymore," Alon replied uncomfortably. Jacov sensed a dam of horrible memories bathed in red and assumed that OakTribe had been massacred. He felt immediate remorse for the tribe that'd taken in him and his father for even a short amount of time.
Jacov made a split second decision. "Then...we'll meet here."
"Tomorrow?" Alon asked.
"Tonight. At midnight." Jacov surprised himself with his resolve. Something was pulling him back, though. Something made him absolutely certain that he HAD to see Alon again.
Jacov quietly slid into his bedroll. The fire had started to die out and the air had started growing chilly. However, Jacov was warm from head to toe. He couldn't explain it, but sneaking out to see Alon had left him extremely...happy? It was a golden glow.
Before he finally drifted into sleep, he realised that he'd felt something-something more than grave sincerity-in a long time.
-------
A/N: Did you guess that Alon would be back? I did. I guessed by my extreme love for this particular kid. And because I sometimes know what I'll write next. JigsX Out
Suddenly the rabbit darted the wrong way, startled by a sound in the woods. Jacov cursed under his breath and slammed his fist against the tree. His head snapped upward, though, as he heard a voice and felt a heartbeat quicken.
"Hello?" the voice spoke. "Someone's there?"
Jacov's eyes narrowed. There was something about that voice. It was familiar but had he ever heard that deepened, rich tone? Jacov felt for the presence and saw a flash of tawny hair and wary grey eyes.
He called back. "I'm here...?" He cursed his uncertain questioning tone. His heartbeat skipped when the voice spoke again.
"Who are you?"
Jacov thought carefully. "How about showing yourself, first?"
A figure stepped out from behind a tree and Jacov had to stop himself from crying out. "Alon?" he called.
The figure discreetly drew a knife from a belt sheathe. Anyone else wouldn't have noticed but Jacov was trained to see such things. "How do you know me?" the figure said.
Jacov dropped from the tree and immediately had to sidestep to avoid the knife that lodged itself into the bark of the tree. "Cool it! It's me, Jacov!"
Alon's astonished face broke into a wide grin. "Jacov!" He jumped at Jacov and wrapped his arms around his neck, having to stand on tiptoe. Even at the age of of fourteen, Jacov was still taller than Alon by at least a head.
Alon pulled back and grinned at Jacov. "Well, how are you?"
Jacov grinned crookedly back. "Well enough. And how are you?"
Alon shrugged. "No better, no worse. Oh, holy gods, I've missed you!"
They laughed and hugged again. They sat and talked for what could've been hours. They'd been apart for so long; they had a lot of catching up to do!
Although, before they knew it, the sun had begun to set. Jacov looked up and noticed the darkening sky. With a short curse, he jumped to his feet. "Oh no! I didn't check my snares! Da expects me back by nightfall!"
Alon stood next to him. "Don't worry, I can help you! Just run and cut them down and I'll pick them up."
Jacov sighed. "Okay, just lend me your knife."
And so they went. Jacov ran and cut the filled snares with a crude, fraying slice. He shivered every time he heard the wire twang; he was taught that metal cutting weapons were the most disgraceful thing. Why kill or draw blood when there were more tasteful ways to disarm a foe?
Finally, Jacov tied the caught rabbits together by the snare strings and stood with them slung over his back. "Is this goodbye again?"
Alon looked at him gravely for a moment but than crossed his arms and shook his head. "No."
Jacov adjusted the rabbits and raised an eyebrow. "It was by chance that we met again, Alon."
Alon stayed firm. "And we will keep seeing each other."
"How? Do you expect us to sneak out every night? My father does NOT like the tribespeople," Jacov said.
Alon walked up to Jacov and poked him in the chest. "We'll sneak away whether your father likes it or not. Jacov, you were my first and maybe only real friend. Ever."
Jacov rubbed his chest where Alon had jabbed him with his finger, feeling a strange warm feeling from the spot. "Alon, you're the only friend I've ever had. But where will we meet? And what happens when my da and I leave for our winter spot?"
Alon thought for a moment. "Then...we'll meet here and I'll follow you to your winter spot."
Jacov looked at him in shock. "What about your tribe?"
"I don't live in a tribe anymore," Alon replied uncomfortably. Jacov sensed a dam of horrible memories bathed in red and assumed that OakTribe had been massacred. He felt immediate remorse for the tribe that'd taken in him and his father for even a short amount of time.
Jacov made a split second decision. "Then...we'll meet here."
"Tomorrow?" Alon asked.
"Tonight. At midnight." Jacov surprised himself with his resolve. Something was pulling him back, though. Something made him absolutely certain that he HAD to see Alon again.
Jacov quietly slid into his bedroll. The fire had started to die out and the air had started growing chilly. However, Jacov was warm from head to toe. He couldn't explain it, but sneaking out to see Alon had left him extremely...happy? It was a golden glow.
Before he finally drifted into sleep, he realised that he'd felt something-something more than grave sincerity-in a long time.
-------
A/N: Did you guess that Alon would be back? I did. I guessed by my extreme love for this particular kid. And because I sometimes know what I'll write next. JigsX Out
Chapter 4: A Twisted Game of Hide and Seek
He breathed the least he could, knowing that the frigid air would betray his position. He sat silently concealed beneath the branches of a large evergreen. Perfectly still, careful not the disturb the snow. He was being stalked.
A minuscule frozen crunch sounded next to him and instantly he shot his hand out. He grabbed the back of the man's knee and pulled himself out of his hideaway like a shot as his foe collapsed to the side. He vaulted the man and was set to run when a hand snatched his ankle.
He tumbled to the ground but rather than sprawl on his face, he tucked in his chin, locked his knee, and somersaulted out of the man's grasp. He spun around and blocked a jolting uppercut to the right but the man immediately hooked his legs out from under him.
He threw off the attacker with a swift upward kick-and-push. Again, he faced the man but his heel skidded too far outward and the man easily threw him off balance. His foe flipped him quickly onto his back and held his head in a lock, about to break his neck.
"You're dead, Jacov," the man whispered.
Jacov sighed in remorse. "I set my foot wrong, Da. And I was breathing too heavily."
Jacov's father set him back on his feet and stood, brushing the snow off his pants. "No, not the breathing. You knocked an icicle off the branch you used to cover the entrance."
It was an exercise that Jacov's father had taught him. Jacov would hide and his father would try and find him. He was to act with the same caution as someone being tracked for the kill. They had gone over at least one of these exercises every day that week. The new snow had made hiding even more difficult.
His father brushed some snow off Jacov's shoulder. "You did well today, Jacov. Now, what if I'd had a throwing knife?"
"Stay in close grown undergrowth. Do not leave a trail."
"A spear?"
"Fight at the staff and dodge quickly."
"Sword?"
"Disarm as quickly as possible."
"Very good. I also see you took heed of my lesson yesterday."
Jacov nodded.
"Repeat it to me," his father said, more a command than a question.
"'I am larger than you; faster, stronger,' you'd said. 'But you are small and quick. Use that. Dodge if you can dodge and use the attacker's own momentum against him.'"
Jacov's father nodded. "And that's what you did until you set your foot wrong. What have I told you about winter?"
The reply came automatic. "There is ice to trip you up and snow to reveal every footstep."
"Good."
Jacov lay staring at the stars that night by the crackling fire. He thought hard about the lessons if the day, commuting them to memory as he did every night. However, this night he was remembering more than the lessons. He had picked up a genuine pride from his father, even after he messed up his attack. He'd received much more praise than what was typical.
Jacov rolled onto his side and pushed his mind outward, reaching for a warm beating heart or a flitting mind. He grabbed desperately at the glows in the edge of his mind, hating to be inside his own head. Anything was better than being within his thoughts. Ever since his empathetic attack just a year before, he'd spent each night looking for somebody instead of risking breaking his mental barriers.
It scared him to no end that he might succumb to the thousands of minds pressing on his awareness. He no longer let himself feel anything more than quiet seriousness be it alone or training with his father. He would never say it to anyone but he was thoroughly terrified of himself.
-------
A/N: Is this another short one? Meh, I felt obligated to write it. Any-hoo...next chapter was actually written before this one so it won't be long before it's up xD JigsX Out
A minuscule frozen crunch sounded next to him and instantly he shot his hand out. He grabbed the back of the man's knee and pulled himself out of his hideaway like a shot as his foe collapsed to the side. He vaulted the man and was set to run when a hand snatched his ankle.
He tumbled to the ground but rather than sprawl on his face, he tucked in his chin, locked his knee, and somersaulted out of the man's grasp. He spun around and blocked a jolting uppercut to the right but the man immediately hooked his legs out from under him.
He threw off the attacker with a swift upward kick-and-push. Again, he faced the man but his heel skidded too far outward and the man easily threw him off balance. His foe flipped him quickly onto his back and held his head in a lock, about to break his neck.
"You're dead, Jacov," the man whispered.
Jacov sighed in remorse. "I set my foot wrong, Da. And I was breathing too heavily."
Jacov's father set him back on his feet and stood, brushing the snow off his pants. "No, not the breathing. You knocked an icicle off the branch you used to cover the entrance."
It was an exercise that Jacov's father had taught him. Jacov would hide and his father would try and find him. He was to act with the same caution as someone being tracked for the kill. They had gone over at least one of these exercises every day that week. The new snow had made hiding even more difficult.
His father brushed some snow off Jacov's shoulder. "You did well today, Jacov. Now, what if I'd had a throwing knife?"
"Stay in close grown undergrowth. Do not leave a trail."
"A spear?"
"Fight at the staff and dodge quickly."
"Sword?"
"Disarm as quickly as possible."
"Very good. I also see you took heed of my lesson yesterday."
Jacov nodded.
"Repeat it to me," his father said, more a command than a question.
"'I am larger than you; faster, stronger,' you'd said. 'But you are small and quick. Use that. Dodge if you can dodge and use the attacker's own momentum against him.'"
Jacov's father nodded. "And that's what you did until you set your foot wrong. What have I told you about winter?"
The reply came automatic. "There is ice to trip you up and snow to reveal every footstep."
"Good."
Jacov lay staring at the stars that night by the crackling fire. He thought hard about the lessons if the day, commuting them to memory as he did every night. However, this night he was remembering more than the lessons. He had picked up a genuine pride from his father, even after he messed up his attack. He'd received much more praise than what was typical.
Jacov rolled onto his side and pushed his mind outward, reaching for a warm beating heart or a flitting mind. He grabbed desperately at the glows in the edge of his mind, hating to be inside his own head. Anything was better than being within his thoughts. Ever since his empathetic attack just a year before, he'd spent each night looking for somebody instead of risking breaking his mental barriers.
It scared him to no end that he might succumb to the thousands of minds pressing on his awareness. He no longer let himself feel anything more than quiet seriousness be it alone or training with his father. He would never say it to anyone but he was thoroughly terrified of himself.
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A/N: Is this another short one? Meh, I felt obligated to write it. Any-hoo...next chapter was actually written before this one so it won't be long before it's up xD JigsX Out
Monday, 15 August 2011
Chapter 3: Glowing
Jacov pushed his upper self off the ground with his arms. His body stayed stiff as a plank as he bore his own weight. He'd done many of a similar exercise earlier only on a branch and he had been pulling his entire self up until his chin was above the branch.
His father told him that the first step to having enough strength to overpower his opponent was being able to overpower someone of the same size. So, Jacov practiced with these exercises and others similar. As for that day, he was done.
He sat up and quickly held his head with a groan. Ever since he'd left OakTribe that year ago, he'd begun feeling strange. It was as if he wasn't feeling his own. He'd catch a flash of annoyance from his father and look at him, worried, only to see him with his back turned. He'd also feel warmer sensations like a golden glow as he slept near his da. Jacov didn't know what to make of it. It was like he was feeling the emotions of others; it was all very confusing.
He stood and began walking back to their camp for the day.
Suddenly, he stumbled and fell against a tree. He moaned as a full sensation swept into his mind. It was one mind, then five, then ten thousand. He collapsed, shaking, onto the leave covered floor.
He groaned again, millions of emotions racing through his brain and tearing at his heart. He was warm, he was cold; he was elated, he was more scared than he'd ever been in his life. He trembled violently in a crumpled heap as that mind screamed in pain. It ripped through his head, crushing all others out and taking over his being.
Jacov saw a haze of red and felt knives tearing through his flesh. He shouted out in terror but the pain didn't stop. He grabbed at his throat and convulsed as an unseen hand struggled to choke the life out of him. Suddenly, that mind blinked out and left Jacov in darkness. A scream burst from his chest and he grabbed at the ground, needing something to hold. It was all dark, it was cold. Where was he? What was happening?
A small warmth in the back of his head appeared. Jacov struggled to get away from the arms gathering him up. He lay still, though, as the warmth began to pulsate and glow. It was golden and soft. Jacov latched onto it blindly.
He instantaneously saw a newborn baby held his arms. He heard a quiet lullaby and realised that he was the one singing. Or was he? He'd never seen this child. Maybe only a week old with bright blue eyes and white-blonde hair. Was this...him? Was he looking through his father's eyes into a memory?
"Hush, little one," he heard. It was his father's voice echoing around him. "You will wake and it will all be okay."
The glow dimmed and Jacov's mind sank into a dark light.
Jacov opened his eyes, sticky with sleep and stared at the sky. His fingers twitched and feeling began to fill his body once again. He glanced from side to side, vision blurry, as he struggled to remember why he was laying in his bedroll midday.
"Son?" his father's voice resounded. Jacov flinched and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the ringing in his head to cease. He opened them again cautiously and saw his father above him with a worried face. He reached out to touch Jacov's shoulder but as soon as he made contact, Jacov pulled away with a hiss of pain.
"Don't touch me!" he croaked. Immediately, he felt a wave of sickness rise in his throat. He scrambled out of his bedroll and promptly retched behind a tree. He coughed shamefully and sat back shivering. Sensing a presence beside him, Jacov looked and saw his father there with a steaming mug of something.
"Drink this, Jacov," his father said gently. "It'll settle you."
Jacov took it and went back to his bedroll. "Is it chamomile?" he asked.
His father nodded. "With mint for your stomach."
Jacov took a sip. "What happened to me, Da?" he said in a weak voice.
His father sighed. "I learned this, once. I've suspected for some time that you are empathetic."
Jacov's eyes widened worriedly. "Is that bad?"
His father chuckled. "No, Jacov. It just means that you know what others are feeling. What happened to you just now is an empathetic attack. The stress became too much and your mind barriers crumbled."
Jacov nodded and sipped the tea again. "I will be able to control it?"
"I can't help you there. This is something you must master on your own."
Jacov stared into his tea and sighed. Why such a heavy burden for this young boy? Only twelve years of age and he felt as if he was already a hundred. He drained his tea in a large gulp and shivered. "May I please sleep, Da?" he asked.
His father nodded. "Of course. You may not know, but you were asleep for nearly an entire day. Rest as long as you need too."
Jacov went beneath his covers and closed his eyes though his mind raced in shock. A day? A full day?
Why him? How on earth had he come by this curse of empathy? Jacov shivered as he remembered that mind that had been snuffed out. Was that person dead now?
Jacov sank into sleep slowly but he was terrified of entering another attack. If he was to ever become close to one again, he promised himself that he'd go far from anybody. How would he face his father or anyone else after such a display of weak-mindedness?
As the day wore into night, Jacov felt the warm, golden light beside him. It kept him in his own head with a sane state of mind.
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A/N: And now we know why Jacov is afraid of empathetic attack. That terrifying first experience...I mean, he latched onto some poor guy that was getting 'taken care of.' As in brutally murdered. Just sayin...JigsX Out, yo
His father told him that the first step to having enough strength to overpower his opponent was being able to overpower someone of the same size. So, Jacov practiced with these exercises and others similar. As for that day, he was done.
He sat up and quickly held his head with a groan. Ever since he'd left OakTribe that year ago, he'd begun feeling strange. It was as if he wasn't feeling his own. He'd catch a flash of annoyance from his father and look at him, worried, only to see him with his back turned. He'd also feel warmer sensations like a golden glow as he slept near his da. Jacov didn't know what to make of it. It was like he was feeling the emotions of others; it was all very confusing.
He stood and began walking back to their camp for the day.
Suddenly, he stumbled and fell against a tree. He moaned as a full sensation swept into his mind. It was one mind, then five, then ten thousand. He collapsed, shaking, onto the leave covered floor.
He groaned again, millions of emotions racing through his brain and tearing at his heart. He was warm, he was cold; he was elated, he was more scared than he'd ever been in his life. He trembled violently in a crumpled heap as that mind screamed in pain. It ripped through his head, crushing all others out and taking over his being.
Jacov saw a haze of red and felt knives tearing through his flesh. He shouted out in terror but the pain didn't stop. He grabbed at his throat and convulsed as an unseen hand struggled to choke the life out of him. Suddenly, that mind blinked out and left Jacov in darkness. A scream burst from his chest and he grabbed at the ground, needing something to hold. It was all dark, it was cold. Where was he? What was happening?
A small warmth in the back of his head appeared. Jacov struggled to get away from the arms gathering him up. He lay still, though, as the warmth began to pulsate and glow. It was golden and soft. Jacov latched onto it blindly.
He instantaneously saw a newborn baby held his arms. He heard a quiet lullaby and realised that he was the one singing. Or was he? He'd never seen this child. Maybe only a week old with bright blue eyes and white-blonde hair. Was this...him? Was he looking through his father's eyes into a memory?
"Hush, little one," he heard. It was his father's voice echoing around him. "You will wake and it will all be okay."
The glow dimmed and Jacov's mind sank into a dark light.
Jacov opened his eyes, sticky with sleep and stared at the sky. His fingers twitched and feeling began to fill his body once again. He glanced from side to side, vision blurry, as he struggled to remember why he was laying in his bedroll midday.
"Son?" his father's voice resounded. Jacov flinched and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the ringing in his head to cease. He opened them again cautiously and saw his father above him with a worried face. He reached out to touch Jacov's shoulder but as soon as he made contact, Jacov pulled away with a hiss of pain.
"Don't touch me!" he croaked. Immediately, he felt a wave of sickness rise in his throat. He scrambled out of his bedroll and promptly retched behind a tree. He coughed shamefully and sat back shivering. Sensing a presence beside him, Jacov looked and saw his father there with a steaming mug of something.
"Drink this, Jacov," his father said gently. "It'll settle you."
Jacov took it and went back to his bedroll. "Is it chamomile?" he asked.
His father nodded. "With mint for your stomach."
Jacov took a sip. "What happened to me, Da?" he said in a weak voice.
His father sighed. "I learned this, once. I've suspected for some time that you are empathetic."
Jacov's eyes widened worriedly. "Is that bad?"
His father chuckled. "No, Jacov. It just means that you know what others are feeling. What happened to you just now is an empathetic attack. The stress became too much and your mind barriers crumbled."
Jacov nodded and sipped the tea again. "I will be able to control it?"
"I can't help you there. This is something you must master on your own."
Jacov stared into his tea and sighed. Why such a heavy burden for this young boy? Only twelve years of age and he felt as if he was already a hundred. He drained his tea in a large gulp and shivered. "May I please sleep, Da?" he asked.
His father nodded. "Of course. You may not know, but you were asleep for nearly an entire day. Rest as long as you need too."
Jacov went beneath his covers and closed his eyes though his mind raced in shock. A day? A full day?
Why him? How on earth had he come by this curse of empathy? Jacov shivered as he remembered that mind that had been snuffed out. Was that person dead now?
Jacov sank into sleep slowly but he was terrified of entering another attack. If he was to ever become close to one again, he promised himself that he'd go far from anybody. How would he face his father or anyone else after such a display of weak-mindedness?
As the day wore into night, Jacov felt the warm, golden light beside him. It kept him in his own head with a sane state of mind.
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A/N: And now we know why Jacov is afraid of empathetic attack. That terrifying first experience...I mean, he latched onto some poor guy that was getting 'taken care of.' As in brutally murdered. Just sayin...JigsX Out, yo
Saturday, 13 August 2011
Chapter 2: Sweet Regret
Jacov stood in the center of the camp's clearing next to his father. He had spent two nights in the tribe with his father, much to the latter's chagrin. The medicine woman had smeared Jacov's hand with a strange smelling plant and wrapped it with small, flat pieces of wood and cotton bandage. The splint went up to his elbow as an extra precaution. The medicine woman had chuckled as she told him, "I know how young boys are. Always getting into mischief with their climbing trees and playing." Jacov had been very confused.
Jacov had spent the day they had arrived in the medicine tent, but the other day with Alon. Jacov liked Alon. He was funny and kind. He always had a ready smile and was quick to answer any of Jacov's questions about tribe life. While Jacov waited in the clearing, he remembered the conversation that'd occurred the night before in Alon's tent.
"I don't want you to leave, Jacov. I like you." Alon had sat up in his bed with a rare frown on his soft lips.
Jacov had looked at Alon from his bedroll seriously. "I must leave, Alon. My father does not like tribespeople."
Alon had cocked his head to the side with brows furrowed. "Then even if I might never see you again, can I call you my friend?"
Jacov had thought carefully. One thing his father had told him was to always carefully consider who he called friend and who he called enemy. Jacov had looked back at Alon and nodded. "We are friends."
Alon had grinned and jumped out of bed, hugging Jacov tightly. "Thank you, Jacov! I've never had a friend like you!"
Jacov blinked and saw once again the clearing of OakTribe camp. The leader had exited his tent and was standing with his hand stretched out to Jacov's father. "If you'd like to join this tribe, Aaron, my offer still stands."
Jacov's father shook hands with the leader as Jacov hid his shock. They could've joined up? He wouldn't've had to leave Alon?
His father replied, "You are too kind but your tribe does not need more mouths to feed." Jacov hid his follow up disappointment. What was he thinking? This was still a tribe. They weren't all like Alon.
Jacov was roused from his thoughts when a boy shaped projectile launched at his chest and latched on. "Bye, Jacov!" It was Alon.
Jacov hugged the kid back with his unbound arm. "Good bye, Alon." They pulled away and the two boys looked at one another sadly. A broken friendship was suspended between the two, coated in sweet regret. The first for either and one's last.
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A/N: Okay, okay, sorry so short! The next will surely be longer. I just wanted to say what happened to Jacov and Alon. The next chapter will be about-MWAHAHA NOT TELLING! JigsX Out
Jacov had spent the day they had arrived in the medicine tent, but the other day with Alon. Jacov liked Alon. He was funny and kind. He always had a ready smile and was quick to answer any of Jacov's questions about tribe life. While Jacov waited in the clearing, he remembered the conversation that'd occurred the night before in Alon's tent.
"I don't want you to leave, Jacov. I like you." Alon had sat up in his bed with a rare frown on his soft lips.
Jacov had looked at Alon from his bedroll seriously. "I must leave, Alon. My father does not like tribespeople."
Alon had cocked his head to the side with brows furrowed. "Then even if I might never see you again, can I call you my friend?"
Jacov had thought carefully. One thing his father had told him was to always carefully consider who he called friend and who he called enemy. Jacov had looked back at Alon and nodded. "We are friends."
Alon had grinned and jumped out of bed, hugging Jacov tightly. "Thank you, Jacov! I've never had a friend like you!"
Jacov blinked and saw once again the clearing of OakTribe camp. The leader had exited his tent and was standing with his hand stretched out to Jacov's father. "If you'd like to join this tribe, Aaron, my offer still stands."
Jacov's father shook hands with the leader as Jacov hid his shock. They could've joined up? He wouldn't've had to leave Alon?
His father replied, "You are too kind but your tribe does not need more mouths to feed." Jacov hid his follow up disappointment. What was he thinking? This was still a tribe. They weren't all like Alon.
Jacov was roused from his thoughts when a boy shaped projectile launched at his chest and latched on. "Bye, Jacov!" It was Alon.
Jacov hugged the kid back with his unbound arm. "Good bye, Alon." They pulled away and the two boys looked at one another sadly. A broken friendship was suspended between the two, coated in sweet regret. The first for either and one's last.
-------
A/N: Okay, okay, sorry so short! The next will surely be longer. I just wanted to say what happened to Jacov and Alon. The next chapter will be about-MWAHAHA NOT TELLING! JigsX Out
Chapter 1: That needs fixed!
"Harder, faster!" he yelled. "C'mon, Jacov! You can do better!"
Jacov went through his sets, repeatedly punching the tree with his full strength behind each blow. He had to set these hits carefully so that he didn't-
"C'mon!" he heard. The bellow from his father distracted him for but a moment, but it was enough.
Jacov heard a sharp crack and pain suddenly radiated from his right knuckles. He cried out, pulling back and clutching his throbbing wrist. He tried to pull off his glove, but it hurt to even barely move his fingers. He bit his lip.
"Jacov!" his father snapped, stalking over. "Why on earth did you stop?"
Jacov looked up at him through sweaty side-swept hair. "I'm really sorry, Da. I think I broke my hand."
His father reached forward and grabbed his hand with annoyance etched onto his face. Jacov bit the inside of his cheek as his father tugged off his glove. His knuckles were already swollen and his wrist had a red-white ring around it. His father turned his hand over a few times and squeezed the knuckles with Jacov gritting his teeth and clenching his other hand, not daring to make a sound.
"You may be right," his father said. "It certainly looks broken. The knuckles, at least. Your wrist seems jarred, too. That'll teach you to be more careful! You're already ten years old, you should know better by now! Of course, now you can work on your left hooks and have no excuse not to."
Jacov relaxed his tightened jaw and spoke with a strained voice. "How am I going to bind it, Da?"
His father sighed and gave Jacov his hand back. "As much as I hate to say it, we might need to seek out a tribe."
Jacov's eyes widened. "But, Da-!"
"Stop!" his father cut him off. "I don't know how to bind joints. Just straight breaks. As disgusting as those lowlifes are, we may need their help."
"But Da, you said that the tribes were-"
"I know what I said!" his father interrupted again, voice snippy. "As messed as the tribespeoples' morals are, they happen to know a few things about healing. I've had to go to them for help before."
Jacov was shocked. His father had asked a tribe for help? His father hated the tribes! Jacov had always been taught that the tribespeople were of the strangest group. They had the most perverse values on discipline, sexuality, and just the concept of a tribe. Man was not meant to follow man.
His father sighed. "We may as well just bed down for the night and head off in the morning. If you can wait that long."
Jacov straightened and looked up at his father. "What ever it is you think is best, Da."
"Well then, let's head back to our things and rest for now. We'll need our energy in the morning to find the nearest tribe border."
Jacov spent the night staring up at the sky clutching his wrist. He wanted to cry but his father hated all forms of weakness and that hate had been passed on. To cry was to tell the world that you were vulnerable and weak. Jacov was NOT to cry. He was not to be weak.
It seemed only moments had passed by since he closed his eyes when his da was shaking him. Jacov started awake blearily and began sitting up, envious of his father's alert expression and ever sharp eyes. His father helped him up and began packing Jacov's bedroll for him. Jacov opened his mouth to protest-his father never did anything for him that Jacov could easily do on his own-but his father put up a hand for his silence.
"Do you honestly expect to be able to roll this with a hand of twice-size swollen fingers and a stubbed up wrist?" he asked, half resigned, half annoyed. "You just keep out of the way and I'll get our stuff so we can find a tribe."
Jacov nodded and stepped aside feeling a bit helpless He was always to make himself of use so things could run smoothly. With a hand that he had broken so stupidly, he couldn't do much.
When his father had finished packing up their things, they set out searching for any sign of a tribe near-about.
It was maybe minutes or hours when Jacov's father suddenly grabbed him and pulled him into the trees. Jacov went silent and still, breathing softly through his mouth.
"Scouts. We're close," his father whispered. "Once they pass, we will head in the direction they came and stop at their border. Copy?"
Jacov nodded, his boyish blue eyes suddenly hardened with seriousness. If they trespassed on a tribe's territory...Jacov couldn't imagine the horrible things that would be done to him and his father. He could fight, of course, but the tribespeople fought to draw blood with their metal weapons. How could Jacov fight through a haze of red? It would be awful.
Jacov's father grabbed his unbroken hand in a rare show of comforting love and protection. It was tiny things like this that always reminded Jacov that the days spent training with his father as a menacing tower over him were just because he was loved. It was a love Jacov wouldn't trade for the world.
They walked through the woods until they reached the border markers of the tribe. There they waited. Jacov was quickly becoming impatient, his hand throbbing in a horribly painful way. He opened his mouth to say as much but when he saw the warning look on his father's face, he gulped and stared back forward.
Suddenly, a tawny haired boy stepped from behind a tree with a confused look on his face. "Why are you just standing there?" he said.
Jacov stared back with a guarded look in his eyes. This was surely a boy from the tribe! Why on earth would Jacov answer him? How long had he been standing there, spying?
Jacov's father raised a hand in a half wave. "Greetings! We've come to ask for medicinal help. If you'll be so kind as to take us to speak to your leader?"
The boy stepped up to the border cautiously. "You're not here to move in on our turf? That's what rogues do, isn't it?" The boy's grey eyes were sparkling with unease but also with a touch of mischief.
Jacov looked at him carefully. He didn't seem so bad. His neatly combed hair and lightly freckled cheeks displayed a clean soul in Jacov's eyes. This was an example of a bloodthirsty tribesman?
Jacov's father raised his hands in a benign gesture. "Only for help. My son broke his hand as we trained and I'm without the proper training to bind this kind of break." Jacov raised his chin with a slight blush. He had broken his hand so stupidly! But at the same time he was proud and impressed at his father's diplomacy. This is the man who's footsteps he must fill.
The boy grinned and gestured inward of the border. "Well, come on in! Welcome to the OakTribe territories." The boy watched as the father-son duo stepped over the border. They began walking deeper into the territory and the boy walked up to Jacov. "Hello!"
Jacov looked at him and away. "Hallo."
"I'm Alon," the boy said. "Today I'm eleven."
Jacov glanced at his father but the man just looked on. "My name is Jacov," he replied. "I've been ten years old for a while now."
Alon looked at Jacov curiously. "You're very tall for your age, Jacov."
It was true! Alon came only to Jacov's mid-bicep. Jacov looked down at Alon. "I wouldn't know. Am I really?"
Alon grinned and looked forward. "Yep! Tall and lanky, you are. You have very fair hair and skin, too."
Jacov felt his face heat in the slightest. "I know what I look like. I just did not know I am tall."
Alon looked at him thoughtfully. "And you speak strangely. Smoother, almost. You elongate vowels. Did you know that?"
Jacob's hand gave another heated throb and he winced with a tiny groan rather than reply.
Alon looked at Jacov's hand. "Goodness, that looks painful! You'll need that fixed."
Jacov rolled his eyes. "As if I didn't know."
Alon shrugged. "Can you blame me for not knowing how to act? I found two strange people on my border and you expect me to not be- Here we are!" Alon halted in front of a vine curtain framed by two large oak trees. With exaggerated elegance, he parted the vines and bowed deeply as he revealed the camp.
Jacov's eyes widened. Never in his life had he seen so many people! Maybe one of them could fix his hand.
Alon took Jacov's arm and began pulling him to a small tent. "I'll take him to see our-" His voice cut off as Jacov's father grabbed Alon's shoulder.
"I will take him, if this will not be a trouble."
Alon grinned. "Sure thing, mister. I'll go tell her you're here." And he ran off.
Jacov looked around. So many people all looking like they belonged. Such a different feel. He didn't know what to call this feeling. It felt...safe?
-------
A/N: Soo...is this chapter too long? Let meh know! And I simply adore Alon...
Jacov went through his sets, repeatedly punching the tree with his full strength behind each blow. He had to set these hits carefully so that he didn't-
"C'mon!" he heard. The bellow from his father distracted him for but a moment, but it was enough.
Jacov heard a sharp crack and pain suddenly radiated from his right knuckles. He cried out, pulling back and clutching his throbbing wrist. He tried to pull off his glove, but it hurt to even barely move his fingers. He bit his lip.
"Jacov!" his father snapped, stalking over. "Why on earth did you stop?"
Jacov looked up at him through sweaty side-swept hair. "I'm really sorry, Da. I think I broke my hand."
His father reached forward and grabbed his hand with annoyance etched onto his face. Jacov bit the inside of his cheek as his father tugged off his glove. His knuckles were already swollen and his wrist had a red-white ring around it. His father turned his hand over a few times and squeezed the knuckles with Jacov gritting his teeth and clenching his other hand, not daring to make a sound.
"You may be right," his father said. "It certainly looks broken. The knuckles, at least. Your wrist seems jarred, too. That'll teach you to be more careful! You're already ten years old, you should know better by now! Of course, now you can work on your left hooks and have no excuse not to."
Jacov relaxed his tightened jaw and spoke with a strained voice. "How am I going to bind it, Da?"
His father sighed and gave Jacov his hand back. "As much as I hate to say it, we might need to seek out a tribe."
Jacov's eyes widened. "But, Da-!"
"Stop!" his father cut him off. "I don't know how to bind joints. Just straight breaks. As disgusting as those lowlifes are, we may need their help."
"But Da, you said that the tribes were-"
"I know what I said!" his father interrupted again, voice snippy. "As messed as the tribespeoples' morals are, they happen to know a few things about healing. I've had to go to them for help before."
Jacov was shocked. His father had asked a tribe for help? His father hated the tribes! Jacov had always been taught that the tribespeople were of the strangest group. They had the most perverse values on discipline, sexuality, and just the concept of a tribe. Man was not meant to follow man.
His father sighed. "We may as well just bed down for the night and head off in the morning. If you can wait that long."
Jacov straightened and looked up at his father. "What ever it is you think is best, Da."
"Well then, let's head back to our things and rest for now. We'll need our energy in the morning to find the nearest tribe border."
Jacov spent the night staring up at the sky clutching his wrist. He wanted to cry but his father hated all forms of weakness and that hate had been passed on. To cry was to tell the world that you were vulnerable and weak. Jacov was NOT to cry. He was not to be weak.
It seemed only moments had passed by since he closed his eyes when his da was shaking him. Jacov started awake blearily and began sitting up, envious of his father's alert expression and ever sharp eyes. His father helped him up and began packing Jacov's bedroll for him. Jacov opened his mouth to protest-his father never did anything for him that Jacov could easily do on his own-but his father put up a hand for his silence.
"Do you honestly expect to be able to roll this with a hand of twice-size swollen fingers and a stubbed up wrist?" he asked, half resigned, half annoyed. "You just keep out of the way and I'll get our stuff so we can find a tribe."
Jacov nodded and stepped aside feeling a bit helpless He was always to make himself of use so things could run smoothly. With a hand that he had broken so stupidly, he couldn't do much.
When his father had finished packing up their things, they set out searching for any sign of a tribe near-about.
It was maybe minutes or hours when Jacov's father suddenly grabbed him and pulled him into the trees. Jacov went silent and still, breathing softly through his mouth.
"Scouts. We're close," his father whispered. "Once they pass, we will head in the direction they came and stop at their border. Copy?"
Jacov nodded, his boyish blue eyes suddenly hardened with seriousness. If they trespassed on a tribe's territory...Jacov couldn't imagine the horrible things that would be done to him and his father. He could fight, of course, but the tribespeople fought to draw blood with their metal weapons. How could Jacov fight through a haze of red? It would be awful.
Jacov's father grabbed his unbroken hand in a rare show of comforting love and protection. It was tiny things like this that always reminded Jacov that the days spent training with his father as a menacing tower over him were just because he was loved. It was a love Jacov wouldn't trade for the world.
They walked through the woods until they reached the border markers of the tribe. There they waited. Jacov was quickly becoming impatient, his hand throbbing in a horribly painful way. He opened his mouth to say as much but when he saw the warning look on his father's face, he gulped and stared back forward.
Suddenly, a tawny haired boy stepped from behind a tree with a confused look on his face. "Why are you just standing there?" he said.
Jacov stared back with a guarded look in his eyes. This was surely a boy from the tribe! Why on earth would Jacov answer him? How long had he been standing there, spying?
Jacov's father raised a hand in a half wave. "Greetings! We've come to ask for medicinal help. If you'll be so kind as to take us to speak to your leader?"
The boy stepped up to the border cautiously. "You're not here to move in on our turf? That's what rogues do, isn't it?" The boy's grey eyes were sparkling with unease but also with a touch of mischief.
Jacov looked at him carefully. He didn't seem so bad. His neatly combed hair and lightly freckled cheeks displayed a clean soul in Jacov's eyes. This was an example of a bloodthirsty tribesman?
Jacov's father raised his hands in a benign gesture. "Only for help. My son broke his hand as we trained and I'm without the proper training to bind this kind of break." Jacov raised his chin with a slight blush. He had broken his hand so stupidly! But at the same time he was proud and impressed at his father's diplomacy. This is the man who's footsteps he must fill.
The boy grinned and gestured inward of the border. "Well, come on in! Welcome to the OakTribe territories." The boy watched as the father-son duo stepped over the border. They began walking deeper into the territory and the boy walked up to Jacov. "Hello!"
Jacov looked at him and away. "Hallo."
"I'm Alon," the boy said. "Today I'm eleven."
Jacov glanced at his father but the man just looked on. "My name is Jacov," he replied. "I've been ten years old for a while now."
Alon looked at Jacov curiously. "You're very tall for your age, Jacov."
It was true! Alon came only to Jacov's mid-bicep. Jacov looked down at Alon. "I wouldn't know. Am I really?"
Alon grinned and looked forward. "Yep! Tall and lanky, you are. You have very fair hair and skin, too."
Jacov felt his face heat in the slightest. "I know what I look like. I just did not know I am tall."
Alon looked at him thoughtfully. "And you speak strangely. Smoother, almost. You elongate vowels. Did you know that?"
Jacob's hand gave another heated throb and he winced with a tiny groan rather than reply.
Alon looked at Jacov's hand. "Goodness, that looks painful! You'll need that fixed."
Jacov rolled his eyes. "As if I didn't know."
Alon shrugged. "Can you blame me for not knowing how to act? I found two strange people on my border and you expect me to not be- Here we are!" Alon halted in front of a vine curtain framed by two large oak trees. With exaggerated elegance, he parted the vines and bowed deeply as he revealed the camp.
Jacov's eyes widened. Never in his life had he seen so many people! Maybe one of them could fix his hand.
Alon took Jacov's arm and began pulling him to a small tent. "I'll take him to see our-" His voice cut off as Jacov's father grabbed Alon's shoulder.
"I will take him, if this will not be a trouble."
Alon grinned. "Sure thing, mister. I'll go tell her you're here." And he ran off.
Jacov looked around. So many people all looking like they belonged. Such a different feel. He didn't know what to call this feeling. It felt...safe?
-------
A/N: Soo...is this chapter too long? Let meh know! And I simply adore Alon...
Prologue: Born in Blood
"Emma, please! You'll be okay!" a man spoke forcefully through a haze of tears.
A woman looked at him sadly, tiredly, drained. Her voice was a whisper and the man had to lean in to hear it. "Please, let me go, Aaron. You'll be fine."
A great sob swelled from Aaron's throat. "Emma, please stay with me. I can't go on looking at him if you're not here. He's so much like you."
Emma gathered her strength and grabbed Aaron's hand. "Aaron, he lives so that I may live on in him. Care for our son. Protect him, love him, teach him to defend himself and care for those in need. Make him a great man. Like you."
"Emma..." Tears blurred her face and Aaron swept frantically at them, wanting to see every last bit of life in this woman. So much if her blood had spilled. Everything had gone right but then the blood came and-
"Aaron," Emma spoke with urgency. "Promise me now that you'll care for him. Promise me you'll make him to be you."
Aaron looked into the eyes of the woman he loved. "Yes," his voice came a whisper. "I will name him like that. For you."
Emma smiled. "Hold him for me."
Aaron quickly gathered up the small, weak newborn in his arms. "I will love him. Promise."
Emma sighed and closed her eyes. "The last thing I see. The last thing I'll ever see is you and our son. Aaron..."
He leaned forward and kissed her softly. He thought he could make out the words that came on her last breath. He slowly repeated them back. "Love you."
He stood, holding the baby tightly. Tears filled his eyes again and his vision darkened in anger. He raced from the tent and into the clearing, staring around wildly. The tribe's leader looked at him in shock as furious words tore themselves from Aaron's throat. "You couldn't save her!"
The leader crossed the clearing with a calming authority, but it had no effect on Aaron. "Calm, Aaron. We did what we could."
"It wasn't good enough," he snarled, his green eyes flashing. "I came to you in a time of need! What did you give me!? Not enough!" The baby in his arms stirred and began to cry. Aaron clutched him tighter as the leader reached for the child. "Don't you dare touch him, you bastard."
Without waiting for a reply, Aaron grabbed his bedroll from beside the medicine tent and raced out of the tribe's camp with tears streaming from his eyes. How could fate be so cruel? How could whatever god that watched him do such horrid things?
Finally, Aaron stopped and fell to his knees, his son still swaddled in the birthing cloth the tribe provided. He opened his bedroll clumsily and climbed into the sleeping sack with his child. Staring into his face, Aaron whispered to his son. "I need to name you. Your mumma wanted you to be like me. I need to think, little one. But whatever happens, I'll love you. Okay?"
The baby yawned and snuggled into his father's chest; blue eyes so much like his mother's, blonde wisps of hair as the same.
"I'll love you."
A woman looked at him sadly, tiredly, drained. Her voice was a whisper and the man had to lean in to hear it. "Please, let me go, Aaron. You'll be fine."
A great sob swelled from Aaron's throat. "Emma, please stay with me. I can't go on looking at him if you're not here. He's so much like you."
Emma gathered her strength and grabbed Aaron's hand. "Aaron, he lives so that I may live on in him. Care for our son. Protect him, love him, teach him to defend himself and care for those in need. Make him a great man. Like you."
"Emma..." Tears blurred her face and Aaron swept frantically at them, wanting to see every last bit of life in this woman. So much if her blood had spilled. Everything had gone right but then the blood came and-
"Aaron," Emma spoke with urgency. "Promise me now that you'll care for him. Promise me you'll make him to be you."
Aaron looked into the eyes of the woman he loved. "Yes," his voice came a whisper. "I will name him like that. For you."
Emma smiled. "Hold him for me."
Aaron quickly gathered up the small, weak newborn in his arms. "I will love him. Promise."
Emma sighed and closed her eyes. "The last thing I see. The last thing I'll ever see is you and our son. Aaron..."
He leaned forward and kissed her softly. He thought he could make out the words that came on her last breath. He slowly repeated them back. "Love you."
He stood, holding the baby tightly. Tears filled his eyes again and his vision darkened in anger. He raced from the tent and into the clearing, staring around wildly. The tribe's leader looked at him in shock as furious words tore themselves from Aaron's throat. "You couldn't save her!"
The leader crossed the clearing with a calming authority, but it had no effect on Aaron. "Calm, Aaron. We did what we could."
"It wasn't good enough," he snarled, his green eyes flashing. "I came to you in a time of need! What did you give me!? Not enough!" The baby in his arms stirred and began to cry. Aaron clutched him tighter as the leader reached for the child. "Don't you dare touch him, you bastard."
Without waiting for a reply, Aaron grabbed his bedroll from beside the medicine tent and raced out of the tribe's camp with tears streaming from his eyes. How could fate be so cruel? How could whatever god that watched him do such horrid things?
Finally, Aaron stopped and fell to his knees, his son still swaddled in the birthing cloth the tribe provided. He opened his bedroll clumsily and climbed into the sleeping sack with his child. Staring into his face, Aaron whispered to his son. "I need to name you. Your mumma wanted you to be like me. I need to think, little one. But whatever happens, I'll love you. Okay?"
The baby yawned and snuggled into his father's chest; blue eyes so much like his mother's, blonde wisps of hair as the same.
"I'll love you."
Greetings, Interweb!
Alrighty! This particular blog will be the home of one of my favorite chatacter's backstory. This character's name is Jacov. Some of you may know him and others have never. I've been writing this for some time but the idea to put it in a blog is a new one. BUT! I hope this will be a pageturner none the less. Though we're online...and there's no pages to turn. /shot
So kick back, relax, and read up my fellow BAers and internetters.
JigsX Out
So kick back, relax, and read up my fellow BAers and internetters.
JigsX Out
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