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Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Story: Terey: Right of Law by Alin



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Story: Terey: Right of Law by Alin

Name: Alin
Pen name: Catanna
Title of Story: Terey: Right of Law
Genre: Fantasy, Experimental
Summary:Hey Ah Bune! This came to me the other day. This is actually quite experimental, cause it's the first few steps. Try to comment, kays?

It's just a story about a girl trying to enter a city ^_^ This wouldn't be the first time i try to rationalize laws. It's just one of the takes i have with it. Enjoy~



Story: Terey: Right of Law

It was the silence that almost killed her. The absence of everything, the absence of nothing. The faded, the missing and the gone.

Nothing.

She would not miss this chance, Terey thought through gritted teeth.

Her eyes lifted to view the towering man. He was only tall because she lacked the years he had weathered. However, to pounce upon his age would be the wrong mindset to start this odd form of negotiation with. She had to be taken seriously and nothing speaks louder than the determination of brawns.

Her hand touched the hilt of the dagger at her waist then, glanced at the sword on the table. Which to choose?

The sword stood almost as tall as she. Would it be wise to risk her skill in an attempt to win respect?

Her small hands were capable of handling the dagger. It has been in her service for as long as her grip tightened enough on its hilt. The sword was only a manner of courtesy given by a merchant. She supposed he had been amused and gave a simple, black sheathed curved blade in response to a child.

Her training with the sword was limited. She had yet to wield the blade without tipping her balance beyond her form of control. However, the sword would impress them more. Especially when it drags further than their expectation.

She was fortunate. They were men who, perhaps much like the merchant, seemed amused by her actions. A child wishing to penetrate the territory of these hoodlums; her actions are nothing more than a joke. Therefore, their expectation were among the negative regions though her mind singled those who hovered over none. They would watch her carefully, knowing she meant her verbal recitation of her intentions.

One followed her movements as she unsheathed the dagger. His eyes traced the gleaming blade, sloped lines sealed into razor sharp point ingrained into the steel. Then, she felt his eyes slide along the guard, to the weathered piece of leather wrapped around the hilt. Her fingers curled comfortably in ridges worn by usage. His eyes lifted to meet hers, careful calculation in orbs shaded by darkness. Yet, no other was written upon his face, though calm, it definitely was not.

Here’s a dangerous one, she thought knowing his observation drew closer to her capabilities.

These men only wished for control. Allowing one such as her into their city was not the wisest. She was not of the ordinary. Control can only be maintained once a sense of normalcy is established. They had created a world for men and women beyond these walls to live within their constructed form of rule. She, though a child she was, would challenge a Utopia already deemed perfect by these men who do not wish to see the world beyond. To grant her access might incite matters, which they wish not raised.

Therefore, she understood the grounds of mettle she was to be tested in. She was fortunate enough to have chanced upon this bunch rather than the grim, proper, machine-like souls who guarded the other gate.

However, looking at a majority of the crowd, she knew the original reason to be witless. Most of these were men who wished for a slight bout of fun to cap a tiresome watch. They were all coiled much too tightly against a foe they do not understand. The law, they viewed, became simply ‘The Law’ and demanded no form of explanation. Along the lines of its formation, as generation after generation passed, the common actions to abide within this system became the only life of normalcy they knew.

Presently, these men who stood before her, knows nothing of why she was forbidden to enter the city. That failure will result in her gaining admittance in the end. Therefore, that man in this group of five who now followed her very move carefully was a threat.

Well, she would attempt damage control later. Four out of five might be enough. She simply prayed it would not resort to a battle of brains. That, she knew she lay at a great disadvantage.

Her fingers tightened around the dagger, feeling its familiar weight resting on her palm. The steel spanned an inch larger than her hand, yet otherwise, control was still hers.

The man who had insisted he was her foe bounced on his feet to warm his body. He was no big brute of a man, if she was to be fair. Mass was well-distributed throughout his frame without any particular area being preferable. In other words, he was well-rounded in the battle arena, speed, strength and power being of equal value.

She looked into his eyes, goading him for an attack. If he was one with impatience, he would take the bait. He sneered.

“Come here, girly.”

Terey abandoned her position, rushing towards him with wanton care for direction. Her charge landed her in the grip of his hands, where he pushed against the force of her coming. She propelled backwards, loosing her footing and sliding along the forest path until she rested to a stop. The dagger cradled gently by her hands.

Laughter echoed. “Go on, little girl. Try a second time,” cried one.

“Be nice, Perce. We can’t deal with a dead girl,” cautioned another.

The third simply laughed.

Her mind was clear, knowing full well her actions. It would not matter if the motion was repeated once more.

Terey immediately bounced to the balls of her feet and began another charge only to have herself thrown in the opposite direction. Her arms ached where he had grabbed her. However, it was a dull pain. She could live with it. She lifted the dagger before her and rushed.

At the third try, she found herself lifted and the ground rushing much too quickly towards her face. In an instant, she twisted, greeting the ground with an armful of hand before pushing against it. The force of the man’s throw ebbed from his fingers, giving her the opportunity to free herself from his grip and fall into a roll. Her feet braced on the ground, the rest of her body fluidly uncurled into place.

Now she would see.

He was bored. The initial sense of fun had faded with her determination.

Terey pulled her body to calmness.

“Allow me into the city,” she repeated firmly.

Their eyes, now glazed with boredom allowed two forms of action. Either she had whittled their patience to nothingness and would be granted access or she would simply be brushed off. She looked at the last man. He returned her gaze.

“Allow me into the city,” she said once more.

His was the deciding vote.

She could have played this by another hand. Allow herself to be completely beaten and still proceed to stand an exhibit her resolve. To fight and completely dominate the opponent. If these were men of pride, the first would have granted her access. Humility, and it would have been the second. Yet, these were men who do not bear any malice towards her. They were neither, for they are equal of both.

It was a gamble to attempt this way, but, as she rushed, she saw the man studying her with care. He wished to know the reason for her actions, that was for sure.

Terey wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. It came away clean. No part of her was too torn up to bleed. She was whole, though bruises nonetheless spotted her arms and legs with one forming at her side.

She’ll be fine.

“I say let her in,” finally the man answered. His voice was softer than she expected, melodious for one trotting as a soldier in arms. Calculation was absent, only calmness and that awareness towards his surroundings.

What a fascinating man, Terey thought amused.

The others merely shrugged.

“Thank you!” she squealed, allowing the exuberance of her childhood to shine through. She rushed forward and withdrew her sword, beaming with happiness before rushing off in an unknown direction.

Well, she would consider it unknown. As long as her being found itself within the city walls, she had no qualms with the direction or the specific destination. It was only a few steps before she realize company shadowed her movements.

Terey smiled. She knew who it was.

Now, to fight or not to fight?

Another part of her mind coolly noted, later. The city first.

Now that she was on her way, Terey allowed her mind to drift towards the instruction given. It was a simple statement: get into the city; a place so heavily guarded even a child was placed under scrutiny before entering the land. In such circumstances, it was to no surprise she was sent on this task.

However, her teacher, Raiyu had elaborated no further. He had only asked her to enter this fort.

Terey was unfamiliar to the workings of politics, she had to admit. Rather, it was to her preference for a forest to be explored or to search for sweets or something of the least complicated nature rather than an attempt to pierce the thoughts and play with an opponent. She found such activities mundane. She knew her place.

Perhaps it might be the limited understanding she has towards human emotions. She understood anger, fear, fury. She knew happiness, deceit, betrayal. She acknowledges the existence of love and familiarity. She knows doubts. However, when it came to reading her opponents in an attempt to manipulate their emotions, she could only do as much. Her situation with the guards would have been diffused by Raiyu with ease.

He would have entered the grounds without the need to brandish a sword, or to be in pursuit.

Terey sighed. She had much to learn about tact. Charm, she had. As much as a girl of four might, anyway but that sheer penetration of the human mind was something she was incapable of for the moment though she envied those who managed with ease knowing the emotions of those surrounding.

Her feet stepped into the darkness of a silhouette. She looked upwards, seeing the leaning tower hovering to cast a shadow onto the ground. With a great leap, she covered half of the structure, arms full of iron as she braced herself for another jump. The other landed her fully on the roof and she surveyed the sleeping town she was now caged within.

The point she had picked was not the highest. Before daylight sheds the mystery of night, it might be wise for her to seek it, yet not now. She wished to take a moment to calm her heart.

She was arguing with the sash by her waist to accept the sword when she heard the soft sound of feet landing on thatched roof. Terey turned and saw the man from before. He moved fast. Faster than one should in chain mail.

Forgetting about the sash, Terey curled her hand around the sheath and crossed her arms, looking at the man before her. If he moves in a way that grates her instincts, she would draw the sword.

“Who are you?” she asked bluntly.

He looked at her, surprised.

“Funny, that question was mine,” he said easily.

She shifted her weight, giving the look of one dealing with incompetence. Terey knew from experience when received from a child, the result was not at all welcoming. Often it would incite a reaction from Raiyu, though the degree varied upon subject.

She was baiting the devil within him.

And here I thought I hated manipulation, Terey thought.

However, to argue with herself, she would say this is a battle of sorts. The reaction is dependent on the action and much like in a game of chess, she had made the first move.

Still he gave no reply. It fanned her fury though the fire did not raged upon danger.

“I know who you are. You trained once with the Hidden,” she spoke, not realizing the words until they left her mouth. Out in the open, she found she believed them. None other can thread with such ease on uneven ground save those who had toiled for it since birth.

Chance still preyed far from the conclusion, yet, it was impossible to think he had found the way of stealth himself. She had seen the placement of those feet before upon training with her teacher. Rather, they were similar to her own as she had not mastered certain techniques to its precision.

“Oh really?” he asked, the easiness neither trebled nor wavered. “How can that be?”

Terey saw him.

His manner of speaking, the way he stood from his crossed arms to the slight drop of his shoulders and the lidded eyes, peering at her beneath eyelids of caution and the way in which he held himself smaller, grace imbued in every sinew. It was the mannerisms by which a hidden race regarded themselves. It was the way caution was practiced when looking out into the world, fear the absent threat from without. It was the careful way he spoke, melodious yet not overpowering. He was careful to shave his existence into nothing but the slightest of a mark. If she were to look at him carefully, it was not fully him she saw, but the history of what he was.

It was also the way he regarded her with care. None other in this part of the world would even assume a child to be of a threat. He would have to come from somewhere. He would have to come from the outside.

However, for his explanation, she has nothing. What her eyes had taken was deemed as material. They were not the reason he sought after because it was what can be seen. It is common to discard what the eyes accept especially if the eyes are used daily. On the other hand, she was only four. Her observations were doubted by even her, as the world deemed the young to be a foolhardy bunch. She did not understand what she sees.

For his reason, Terey only answered with a shrug. Her instincts had tied him closely with the Hidden and to her, that was enough.

He laughed, an easy laugh that rolled from the pits of his gut. Terey merely looked, unwilling to act the eager child once more. She attempted to harden her muscles and force them in a ready state of action. However, they insisted this man in her company was not of a threat.

She almost cursed when he stopped, eyes looking upon her.

“I am of the Hidden once,” he said. “But I believe the most important information here, little girl is that I am the one you have come to kill.”

Then, he grinned baring canines that gleamed in the moonlight. “Fighter.”

©Alin2008

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