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The Sand Flea (Part X)

Continued from The Sand Flea (Part IX).

“Hey, something’s ahead!” Evoxe’s voice was sudden, and woke Ask from his doze.  His head was somewhere soft, and the sun’s warmth felt nice on his skin.  He looked upward, and saw Korenila’s face.  He was resting his head against her chest, and she was leaning against the forward wall of the straw cart.  Beside him, Horse had her nose under his hand.

Korenila opened her eyes. “What is it, Evoxe?”

“I think it’s-” he trailed off momentarily before he continued, “It’s a house.  Nobody should be living this close to the Drop.” Read the rest of this entry »

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The Sand Flea (Part IX)

Continued from The Sand Flea (Part VIII).

Ask continued to run through the healers’ temple, desperately seeking someone who believed him.  His back began to burn with a dull ache. “Bandits are coming!” He pointed back, behind the temple. “They’re that way!”

Several scoffed at the panting goblin.

“Liar!”

“You’re for Njolr!”

“You’re just going to rob us blind!” The patients’ voices kept the priests from hearing, and as Ask tried to run towards a male priest that had fancier robes than the rest, a hand wrapped around his ankle, and a group of seven patients bustled him out the same door he entered through. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on July 1, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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The Sand Flea (Part VIII)

The nights were growing cooler, and Ask’s back almost didn’t hurt at all anymore.  Despite his recovery, Korenila insisted he should stay, and he couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t mind taking orders from her.  She was kind.  That must have been why, he was sure.  He was given his freedom to wander the barnyard, however, and wander he did.

Horse was never far behind, and nobody seemed worried about Ask’s presence.  He expected people to avoid him, or to be rude to him.  Instead, the stable hands were polite and helpful, and several offered to help him saddle Horse.  He declined in the most polite way he knew, and a few laughed good-naturedly, while others frowned at him for his poor word choice. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on June 27, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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Damn Brick Walls

I walked into the fancy establishment my friend worked at.  She assured me I’d have no problem getting in.  I shifted my turban a bit higher on my head.  It was too large on me.  I absently grabbed the ear-flap and tied it to the other side to try to muffle the sounds of chatter that resounded on either side of me.  Suddenly, a brick wall was in my way.  I looked up.

He was huge, with dark skin and nothing to cover his massive chest, save scars and crossed arms.  Slowly, my eyes went higher still, to his face.  He stared at me with the pale eyes of someone from the north, maybe even as far as Icesog.  I took a step back quickly. “Sorry, sir.” I moved to step past him, and a heavy hand fell onto my shoulder, faster than I could think. Read the rest of this entry »

 

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Enter, the Republicans.

Trotting horses rode through the desert.  Their sweat was a lather, and their riders desperately looked around for some sort of shelter.  There were three horses, but five riders, and as they approached the gates of Driazhek City, they yanked their horses up short.  One of the three beasts fell, sending its two riders to the ground with it.  One pulled himself from underneath, while the other kicked the over-burdened, gasping animal.

One of the guards hurried forward and shoved the kicking man away with a shout. “Don’t you kick that animal!  It carried you across the desert!  Show some respect, or learn to walk the sands yourself!”  The other man carefully dribbled water into the horse’s mouth, who eagerly drank with a dry tongue.  Once all three horses were watered, the guards led them in and tended to the beasts first, while other guards dashed to continue guarding the gate.  The first guard glared at the travelers. “Idiots.” he muttered. Read the rest of this entry »

 
 

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