What if these characters met?
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Ok, thanks for letting us know! I always found pen names interesting. Does the S. stand for anything in particular? Or is it purely aesthetic?
What I know in my head and what I believe in my heart are two entirely different things.
Just a part of the name, though I guess it could stand for Sara/Sarah
"I read that book, and it affected me." ~my sister, about the Warrior Cats.
Harry was the first to hear the scream.
“That’s Hermione! Hurry, we have to help her!” he called to his clone companions and then dashed down the hall. He rounded the corner just in time to see Hermione fall before Macha. The Owl Witch snatched a book from the unconscious girl’s grasp. After meeting Harry’s eyes with her own gleaming yellow ones, she vanished in swirl of wind and feathers.
Harry wasted no moment trying to understand what had happened. He ran over and knelt at Hermione’s side.
“She’s hurt, just like the others… we have to get her back.” His two clone friends nodded. One supported Hermione’s fallen clone escort, Duff, and the other picked up Hermione. They moved back to their base as quickly as they could.
Everyone turned to look as they entered their base. Amberly gasped.
“Oh no,” she murmured. Harry just glared at the ground.
Hermione and Duff were carried into Communal B. Harry followed. He sat by Hermione’s cot for several minutes in silence.
Amberly and Emberyn entered the room and joined Harry in his vigil.
“What if she doesn’t wake up?” Harry asked bitterly. “I don’t even know why this whole mess is happening, and she got hurt because of it. It’s just not fair.”
“Trust me, Harry, I know a lot about things not being fair,” Amberly said, and then hesitated. “But I’m sure that Hermione will be all right. Something just tells that me she will.”
(Sorry it’s kind of long.)
What I know in my head and what I believe in my heart are two entirely different things.
AMBERLEY’S POV
I placed my hand on Harry’s shoulder. I looked at Emberyn, asking with my eyes where Ron was. Hermione was his friend too, and he deserved to know. Emberyn nodded at me.
“I’ll go look for him.”
Harry didn’t even look up. I sighed. “Harry, listen.”
“What.”
“When–when I ended up in a wheelchair again–I felt like my life was over. I had been free of it for six years, Harry! Six years! And then I was thrust back in it, and this time… This time I was stuck in it for good. I lost the will to live, Harry.”
He finally looked up.
“If not for Emberyn, I–I would have died. He helped me to see that I still could do things. Sure, they would be harder than before, but I could still ride. I could still win a rodeo, I still had my family, and I still had my faith. The only thing stopping me from that was myself. Hermione’s got a strong will, Harry. She’ll make it.”
“You’re sure. Absolutely sure?”
I scooted closer to him on the couch I was sitting on and looked him in the eye.
“Harry, you know Hermione. She’s the best witch of her age. There’s no way she’ll let you battle Macha on your own.”
He looked at me yet again, and smiled.
"I read that book, and it affected me." ~my sister, about the Warrior Cats.
RON’S POV
Ron looked up as Emberyn approached him. The strained look on Emberyn’s face startled Ron.
“What’s wrong?” The red-head asked, growing tense.
“It’s Hermione,” Emberyn said painfully. “Macha got her. She’s in the other room now. But Amberly… we think that she’ll be all right.”
“Oh,” Ron paled slightly. “I… I sure hope you’re right, Emberyn.”
The two boys looked up as the door opened. Ahsoka stepped in, followed by a tall, dark-skinned man. He scanned the roomful of people with sharp, darkling eyes. His posture and manner spoke of mild caution and well-concealed attentiveness.
“Everyone,” Ahsoka smiled. “Meet Rupert Greeves, our new… ally.”
What I know in my head and what I believe in my heart are two entirely different things.
Ahsoka led Rupert down the hall at a brisk pace, at last stepping into a stone room not unlike the others in this maze of a. . . whatever-the-heck-this-place-was. Near the doorway they had just come through there stood two boys, roughly Ahsoka’s age, though perhaps a little older or younger; it was hard to tell. One had dark hair, and the other red. Both looked worried — perhaps they had been talking about a troubling subject, or something — but the dark haired one seemed to be trying harder to hide it than the redhead.
Rupert felt their eyes on him as, smiling, Ahsoka said, “Everyone, meet Rupert Greeves, our new. . . ally.”
Rupe nodded in acknowledgement, and crossed his arms. He knew that it wasn’t lost on anyone in the room that he was keeping his hands away from his guns on purpose.
Hwæt! Wē Gār-Dena in geār-dagum, pēod-cyninga, prym gefrūnon, hū õā æpelingas ellen fremedon!
( @kylie-wingfeather Are the Wingfeather siblings still in the castle? )
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“Nice to meet you, Mr. Greeves,” Ron said. “I’m Ron Weasley.”
Rupert nodded and shook Ron’s offered hand. Emberyn stepped forward.
“My name’s Emberyn Fletcher. You’ll meet my sister Amberly soon, she’s in the other room right now,” Emberyn said. They shook hands as well. Rupert scanned the roomful of people before looking back at Emberyn and Ron.
“You two look like you might be from the same place as I. Or at least someplace similar,” Rupert said, noting their contemporary clothing which stood out in stark contrast with the clone’s futuristic-looking white armor.
“Maybe,” Emberyn shrugged. “But I’m not sure.”
Ron sighed. “There are a lot of things we’re not sure about,” the redhead said. “Like whether or not our friend is going to wake up before we battle that crazy owl witch, or why we can’t get out of this castle, or how we even got here!”
What I know in my head and what I believe in my heart are two entirely different things.
Ah. Yes, the Wingfeather siblings (speaking of which, they’re the kids in my current profile photo) are still in the Castle, I just need to fit them in some where; I’ve been rather uninspired at the moment—Writer’s Block. I’ll write something soon from their POV.
"I read that book, and it affected me." ~my sister, about the Warrior Cats.
Ok, sounds good. And I hope your writer’s block ends soon!
What I know in my head and what I believe in my heart are two entirely different things.
What Winter Rose said 😉
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“Nice to meet you, Mr. Greeves,” said the red-haired boy, extending his hand to Rupert. “I’m Ron Weasley.”
Rupert nodded in acknowledgement, and shook Ron’s hand.
The other boy stepped forward, shaking Rupe’s hand as soon as Ron had finished. “My name’s Emberyn Fletcher,” he said. “You’ll meet my sister Amberly soon; she’s in the other room right now.”
As the two boys stepped back, Rupert scanned the room, allowing his eyes to wander to each of those standing within it, one by one.
There was a large group of men near the back of the room, all wearing white armor — most of it identical, but a few suits with slight variation; perhaps to mark the commanding officers. Some had their helmets on, though most did not, and Rupe noted that of the latter group, all had the same face, and there were only haircuts and varying amounts of facial hair with which to tell them apart.
There was a doorway not far from the armored men — whom Rupe assumed were the clones that Ahsoka had mentioned earlier. Probably, he reasoned, it leads to the other room where Emberyn’s sister is.
He returned his attention to Emberyn and Ron, noting with some surprise their astonishingly ordinary clothing.
It was the sort of clothing that Rupert knew that the civilian population, outside of the O of B, generally wore. Few people within the Order dressed like that.
But then that would mean that these two boys were civilians, ordinary people.
“You two look like you might be from the same place as I,” Rupert mused, half thinking out loud. “Or,” he quickly amended, “at least someplace similar.”
Emberyn only shrugged. “Maybe. But I’m not sure.”
“There are a lot of things we’re not sure about,” Ron said, sighing. “Like whether or not our friend is going to wake up before we battle that crazy owl-witch, or why we can’t get out of this castle, or how we even got here!”
Rupert paused, considering. There it was. Another mention of this owl-witch, this Macha. He knew that name, though he didn’t know from where. And the answer seemed maddenly nearby, yet still out of reach. Perhaps he’d read it in a book or something when he was an Acolyte*. But if she was a witch. . .
A sudden idea popped into Rupe’s head, like a switch had been suddenly flipped, flooding his mind with light.
What if. . . what if Macha was the one who had pulled them there?
But how?
And more importantly. . .
Why?
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* There are five ranks within the Order of Brendan: Acolyte, Journeyman, Explorer, Keeper, and Sage. They are achieved in that exact order, with a person starting at Acolyte and then working their way up from there. (Rupe is a Keeper, though his role is also Avengel / Blood Avenger) Acolytes are generally children / teens, and they have one year to reach Journeyman. If they fail to meet the requirements, they are expelled from the Order (or in the cases of Dennis Gilly and Hillary Drake, they join the staff). Acolytes (and Journeymen; idk about Explorers) are somewhat like apprentices, and are under the supervision of a Keeper (hence the term “Keeper”). They much of their time either studying or training.
Hwæt! Wē Gār-Dena in geār-dagum, pēod-cyninga, prym gefrūnon, hū õā æpelingas ellen fremedon!
JANNER’S POV
Janner looked around. He, Kalmar, and Leeli had volunteered to check the hallway where they had been attacked.
“There it is!” Kalmar whispered. The hallway was disheveled after the battle, and littered with scraps of clothing, dead owls, fallen weapons, and a wheelchair. Janner went over to the wheelchair and grasped the handles. It was scratched, and part of the seat was slightly torn, but other than that, it was in good condition.
“We’d better take this back for Amberley.” Janner said, and his siblings nodded. After scouting around, and picking up the weapons, the Wingfeather siblings headed back to the ‘headquarters.’
o0O0o
When they arrived, Janner was surprised to see a new man in the room. Tall, with dark skin, he commanded a sense of respect. He turned around and looked at them, taking in at a glance Janner’s scars and Leeli’s crutch. Janner tried to be friendly.
“Hi, I’m Janner Wingfeather.”
The man nodded and shook his hand. “Rupert Greeves.”
Kalmar and Leeli introduced themselves, taking care not to mention their titles. Then Janner remembered the wheelchair.
“Emberyn, do you know where Amberley is? We got her wheelchair, so…”
Emberyn’s face brightened. “Thanks! I’ll take it to her.”
"I read that book, and it affected me." ~my sister, about the Warrior Cats.
Rupert turned around at the sound of footsteps behind him. Someone new was entering the room.
Or a couple someones, actually.
All three of them were children; two of them boys, and the third a girl. The tallest of the boys was pushing a slightly battered but otherwise fine wheelchair.
They were clearly siblings, though Rupert could also see clearly that they weren’t from his world.
The boy with the wheelchair looked like he was in his early teens, perhaps thirteen or fourteen, though it was difficult to tell on account of his height. His eyes were blue, and his hair brown. A sword hung sheathed at his side. A rather disturbing number of scars was visible on his body, from where Rupe couldn’t guess — and wasn’t entirely sure that he even wanted to.
The other boy looked younger, if only by a year or two, and was of more average height. His eyes too were blue, and his hair a sandy-brown color.
The girl was younger still, perhaps nine or ten. Like her brothers, she had blue eyes, and her hair was a shining blonde. But the thing about her that caught Rupe’s attention the most was her right leg. It twisted around at an unnatural angle at the knee, and as it was unable to support her weight, she leaned upon an ornately-carved crutch.
Rupert vaguely wondered why she wasn’t sitting in the wheelchair herself.
The tall boy saw where Rupert’s gaze was directed, and after a moment, he stepped forward. “Hi. I’m Janner Wingfeather.”
After a moment, Rupert nodded. “Rupert Greeves.” He shook the boy’s — Janner’s — hand.
“I’m Leeli,” said the girl, “and this is my brother Kalmar.” She gestured to the other boy beside her.
Janner looked past Rupert towards the other boys. “Emberyn, do you know where Amberley is? We got her wheelchair, so. . .”
Rupert stepped off to the side, looking around just in time to see Emberyn’s face light up.
“Thanks!” he said, a smile blossoming on his face. “I’ll take it to her.”
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Hwæt! Wē Gār-Dena in geār-dagum, pēod-cyninga, prym gefrūnon, hū õā æpelingas ellen fremedon!
AMBERLEY’S POV
Amberley sighed. Harry was still at Hermione’s bedside, and she herself was there too, though that wasn’t a choice. Without Emberyn or her wheelchair, Amberley was most definitely stuck. Then her aforementioned brother walked through the door–with her wheelchair!
“How…”
Emberyn grinned. “When Janner, Kalmar, and Leeli went to go check where Macha attacked, they found it and brought it back, along with most of the clone’s weapons.” Amberley swung herself into the ‘chair and positioned her feet in the rests. With a quick nod to Harry–who barely noticed it–she wheeled out into the hallway, then to Communal A.
When she entered, she was greeted by the sight of a tall, dark-skinned man.
“Um, Emberyn,” she whispered. “Who’s that?”
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Sorry it’s short, but I have a book calling my name! I must flyeth away! Farewell, dear friends!
(and that was me summoning my inner Florid Sword)
"I read that book, and it affected me." ~my sister, about the Warrior Cats.
No worries! I know the feeling 😉 Which book is it? Right now, I’m going back and forth between rereading N. D. Wilson’s The Drowned Vault (book 2 of The Ashtown Burials, and also where I plucked Rupert from for this), and reading A. S. Peterson’s The Fiddler’s Gun for the first time.
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Emberyn headed into the other room with the wheelchair, and Rupert, after a pause, turned to look at Ahsoka. She hadn’t said a word since she’d begun leading him here, and even now she was silent. Her face was unreadable, though her eyes were less so. They looked troubled, perplexed, but before Rupert could ask her what was wrong, Emberyn returned, this time walking beside the wheelchair, in which a dark-haired girl sat. Her eyes were brown, flecked here and there with gold, and her slender frame seemed petite for her age, which Rupert guessed was either twelve or thirteen.
The girl — probably Emberyn’s sister Amberley — stiffened at the sight of him, and whispered something to her brother — probably a question of who this new man was.
“I am Rupert Greeves,” Rupe answered her, before Emberyn could respond. He decided to leave off his title for now, firstly because the name of Saint Brendan was one forgotten and mythical among the civilians, and his Order totally nonexistent in their knowledge, therefore they wouldn’t know what on earth an Avengel / Blood Avenger even was, and secondly because a Blood Anything was probably going to freak out any kids, especially ones currently being chased by a witch of some kind inside of a. . . whatever-the-heck-this-place-even-was.
Hwæt! Wē Gār-Dena in geār-dagum, pēod-cyninga, prym gefrūnon, hū õā æpelingas ellen fremedon!
It was the third Land of Stories book, I believe. A.S. Peterson, isn’t he AP’s brother?
"I read that book, and it affected me." ~my sister, about the Warrior Cats.
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This reply was modified 5 years ago by
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