Starchild: Prophecy

By Fred Strange

In the twenty-fourth year of the last Highking of Doria: Aurora Celeste crash lands on Talus IV and finds herself scarred, stranded, and all alone, save for her android companion, on an alien planet full of magic and danger. To make matters worse, Aurora is also the focal point of a prophecy that foretells of a cataclysmic war that will test the souls of men. To Aurora, she is nothing more than a little girl, stranded and fighting to survive. To the inhabitants of the planet she's landed on, Aurora is known and revered as... The Starchild.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fred Strange
• Release date: Jul 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311685803

Fred Strange

Fred Strange resides in Southern California with his beloved wife, two not-so-beloved, neurotic cats, and his own little Starchild.

Book preview

Chapter One

Prologue

It was a fortress, not a grand palace.

The castle was an old style design built for the sole purpose of warfare. It was not meant to look stunning or pleasant to the eye, but menacing. It was a place from where one could do battle and win. It was the seat of the new government; its headquarters, its heart. This was Doria Castle.

It stood on a small mesa in the center of a broad valley. The walls were meshed into the hillside such that it was difficult to tell where one stopped and the other began. The towers gave one a commanding view over the entire surrounding valley. Yet for all that it was, Doria Castle was noted most for what it was not.

It wasn't a bright shiny palace. There weren't glass windows everywhere. The walls were made of plain stone taken from nearby quarries; the strongest granite, but speckled and gray and not very pleasing to the eye. Most of the towers were topless, but those that did have roofs had them made from the silverleaf tree, the strongest wood to be found anywhere, and also a pleasant white color. The silverleaf roofs were about the only pleasant things about the look of the castle.

There were flags and banners flying from the towers and hanging over the walls this day though, giving the plain walls a bit of color. This was the dedication ceremony as well as the grand coronation. Everyone who was anyone was here for the occasion: royalty, visiting monarchs and dignitaries from neighboring lands, nobility, merchants, the clergy, and various servants and peasants.

The majority of the women frowned at the castle, because there was nothing to it that suggested that it should be the grand capital. It was plain and ugly to look upon. Most of the men agreed with the women, but they did appreciate the beauty of the design, from a warrior's point of view. The men of Doria were proud to have such a thing be the symbol of power and strength to the rest of the world. It wasn't pretty, but they could tell that it would be nearly impregnable, and that was what would matter the most.

The people arrived by carriages, but were only allowed to approach the gates of the castle. Once at the gates, they were to walk the rest of the way inside the walls, into the keep, and into the grand audience chamber where the ceremony would be held. They looked at the battlements as they entered, judged the thickness of the walls, looked across the courtyard, and pondered over the buildings inside. The inside of the castle keep, however, looked more like what the guests were used to. Tapestries hung from the walls. Gold gilded vases on pedestals lined the halls along side brilliant pieces of armor. Fine pieces of art and artisanship covered the inside of Doria Castle, doing well to hide the still plain granite walls inside.

White flags displaying the new symbol of the new government waved from the towers or hung from the windows. The charge on the plain white banner was officially known as the Dorian Diamonds, but many already referred to it as the Dorian Pinwheel under their breaths. The Diamonds were four diamond-shaped rhomboids, each of a different color - red, green, purple and blue - to represent the four major colors found in all of the territories that would make up Doria. The four diamonds were then arranged so that their narrowest points would all meet in the center along the compass points, thus giving it the pinwheel look that a few referred to. It, like the castle it flew from, was plain and simple. Many in Doria viewed it with pride.

Amid all of the glory and splendor that Doria Castle could manage given its war-like design and common trappings, one old man stood inside the gates and saw none of it.

He saw nothing at all, at least with his own eyes. They were useless to him. But he had other means to see, and through those other means the old man saw more than anyone. The oldest wizard of the First Order, in fact the oldest wizard period, was only one of three dignitaries to arrive from the wizard's enclave at Idyllmere. He was the great Seer, Turnbeck ul'Sulaimon, known to most as simply Turnbeck the Prophet.

He was stooped with age and relied heavily on his staff for support. He was at least a hundred years of age, although even he didn't exactly know how much over a hundred he was. He lost count after so many years, and the fact that he was blind only added to his inability to properly track time. His blindness came directly from his gift. He was the most prolific giver of prophecies to have ever lived to date. Nearly half of all of the prophecies on record in the libraries at Idyllmere were given by him over the past seventy-five or so years. The prophecies came to him as visions, and the ability to see the future destroyed his ability to see the present. Only through magic could he see in any way approaching normally. That was why the other two wizards were with him. One was of the Second Order and the other from the Third Order, but both were young, barely past apprentices, and there not as much to represent their Orders at the ceremony, but to assist Turnbeck who represented both the First Order, as well as the whole of Idyllmere itself.

Turnbeck looked from wall to parapet and gazed at the castle through the power of his magic. He knew it was well built. The foundation itself was made with magic, which was why it blended so well into the mesa it was on. The essence of the magic to build the foundation was still visible to him. The white banners with the Dorian Diamonds were also made with magic; understandable given the short amount of time given to make them all. Turnbeck knew the Dorian court wizard, a First Order wizard by the name of Samuel, would have been responsible for the banners.

He filed into the castle keep along with the other visitors, a little slower than the rest, but steady in his movements. A small number of steps led into the great hall, covered in banners and tapestries. A turn down a connecting corridor and through a set of double doors and they were inside the grand audience chamber. Rows of pews filled the chamber, later to be moved to the castle's temple. Turnbeck and the two wizards with him took seats that were already reserved for them near the front of the chamber. On the dais at the front of the room sat two empty thrones. At the base of the dais stood the High Theocrat of the Clerics of Aymn. Turnbeck harrumphed at the High Theocrat, although he didn't quite know why.

The castle's Seneschal walked onto the dais and began the dedication ceremony for Doria Castle. Turnbeck tuned it out. He sent out little threads of magic throughout the room, trying to see who was in attendance in his own special way. He even went so far as to probe a space into the High Theocrat's mind, although that proved useless once the cleric discovered him there and shut him out. Turnbeck could have fought harder to stay in his mind, and might have succeeded, but the old cleric wasn't worth it and something else caught his attention. Scribes, three of them, were wandering the chamber, writing everything they saw and heard, from the Seneschal's voice to those talking among the pews. They were quick with their writing and amazingly accurate in their details. None of what they wrote would match as they circled around the perimeter of the room. Turnbeck knew that this was done on purpose. Reading their thoughts, Turnbeck knew that they were commanded by Davram, soon to be crowned the first Highking of Doria, to record everything they saw and heard during the ceremonies. It was Davram's intent that all such ceremonies be recorded by at least three scribes.

Turnbeck's thoughts on the matter were becoming blurred just as the crowd inside of the audience chamber came to their feet. He was jarred into his own mind as nearly everyone shouted, Long live the Kingdom of Doria! The Seneschal then announced the arrival of Davram and his queen, Rebecca. Turnbeck stood and waited as the two monarchs slowly made their way into the chamber. Turnbeck reflected on the history of Doria that brought everyone to this place. It started with Davram's grandfather, Davram V.

Davram V was king of the much smaller kingdom of Doria. Through alliances and conquests he began to expand Doria's borders and influence. With help from such people as the Duke of Newfeld, Davram V and his son, Arvad II, grew Doria to be the major power in the region. This gave them more influence, more conquests and more alliances. By the time Davram VI took the throne of Doria, the small kingdom had grown to cover a third of the continent. It was his idea to build this castle and take up a new title that would better reflect his status in the known world. With this coronation ceremony King Davram VI of Doria would become Davram I, Highking of Doria.

Turnbeck reflected on the years as Davram VI passed by with his queen. Through the power of his magic sight, he watched as they stopped before the High Theocrat. The High Theocrat began the coronation ceremony as Turnbeck ticked off the years in his head. He was a child of eight years when Davram V took the throne. He watched, at first from the city streets of Brookdale, then from the distant halls of Idyllmere, as Davram V began to enfold more and more territory into Doria's borders. He watched as Davram's son and grandson followed in his path. Ninety-five years had passed from that point.

The crowd roared, Hail, Davram, Highking of Doria! Hail Rebecca, Highqueen of Doria!

Turnbeck remembered. He was a hundred and three.

The cloud of magic overcame Turnbeck as he sat in his pew. As everyone sat down to hear Davram's speech, the magic seemed to lock Turnbeck's gaze onto the new Highking's eyes. Swirls of patterns flew through his head as his sightless eyes stared into those of Davram I. Davram's voice seemed to echo in his mind, but the words were a mixed up jumble and impossible to recognize. Turnbeck had been here before; all of his visions started this way. He fought to gain control of the images flailing his mind. It was harder than usual to do, but slowly, as Davram continued to speak, the vision began to form in Turnbeck's mind. What he saw was more frightening than anything he'd ever seen before.

* *

The three scribes that recorded the events of that day all recorded various different things, to the point where none of them exactly matched, except for one thing. They all recorded that the old wizard commonly known as Turnbeck the Prophet stood up during Davram's speech and began speaking. His voice echoed loud and clear through the audience chamber, silencing the Highking and everyone else in attendance. After speaking, Turnbeck collapsed to the stone floor and was pronounced dead by one of the young wizards who he'd traveled with. The stunned room sat in silence until Davram broke the silence. I declare, Davram, Highking of Doria, spoke to those assembled, that I will rule as Highking for no more than twenty-three years. At that time, I shall step down and pass my title onto a successor of my choosing. Let no Highking rule for more than twenty-three years, for the consequences of invoking Turnbeck's Last Prophecy are too horrific to allow.

In all things, the three scribes wrote something different. In all things did none of them agree. The only exception were the last words spoken by the great prophet, Turnbeck ul'Sulaimon, before he fell dead:

"In the twenty-fourth year of the last Highking of Doria, a falling star will signal the end of a great battle and the beginning of a cataclysmic war, which will test the very souls of men. The Righteous beware, for the blade of True Justice shall be wielded by a brave young warrior, a talented but untested mage, and the Starchild."

Chapter Two

The Falling Star

The Ansemite Valley had seen its shares of war and battle, but few of those that occurred in the past could compare with the battle raging there now. The two armies had faced each other early that morning, the battle taking place shortly thereafter. Tens of thousands of men, the largest armies ever assembled, raged against each other throughout the day. Neither side could win any advantage over the other. Swords, axes, halberds and glaives sliced through the air. Arrows rained from the sky. Weapons met shields, armor and flesh. Men from both sides littered the ground, either dead or too wounded to do anything more than lay where they fell, hoping that they wouldn't be trampled to death.

By the afternoon nearly all of the horses had been killed, forcing what was left of the cavalry units to fight on foot. The arrows had all been shot and what few remained undamaged were being sent back to their original owners. But the shield walls held and the swords still slashed through the air, as did the other weapons. They were either continually thwarted or found rare targets.

Evening was settling in and still the battle went on. Men already exhausted from fighting all day were summoning their remaining strength in the effort to finally turn the tide, but to no avail. The sides were too evenly matched in skill and determination to turn the battle into anything more than a deadly stalemate. Even as the sky turned dark overhead, the fighting went on.

The ground was still well lit from the twin moons, Lumos and Pheros, both of which happened to be full on this momentous evening. The twin disks in the evening sky reflected enough light to keep the valley almost as bright as day. Thus the fighting went on.

Nicholas knew that the effort was useless. Highking Ormond's army was too large and well trained for the armies of the rebellious lords who marched against him. And yet Nicholas knew that Ormond's days were numbered. No Highking had been allowed to reign for more than twenty-three years. Fear of some thousand-year-old ancient prophecy long forgotten had forced each Highking to leave the throne before the twenty-fourth year of his reign and pass the mantle of rulership onto another, either the Highking's heir or some other worthy noble. Ormond had no heir yet, being still young in years, and considered no noble worthy of the title. He was now well into his twenty-fourth year.

In the effort to force his removal, several lords and lesser kings rallied together an army and marched on the capitol of Doria. They were met in this valley by the Highking's own loyal troops. And here the battle was fought. It was a battle between men, and so it remained so. Nicholas had little interest in either side and so kept to the Highking's tents and tended to the wounded that were lucky enough to make it back.

He was loyal to Ormond. Nicholas saw many fine qualities in the Highking and wished to see the realization of the Highking's grace and wisdom. The man was only thirty-eight, having inherited the title of Highking at the age of fourteen from his father when he stepped down twenty-four years ago. He had only just married a woman nearly half his age, and as yet had no heirs of his own. Highking Ormond didn't believe in the old superstition, nor did Nicholas for that matter, and was loath to step down before he was ready. So, with Nicholas' advice, he remained on the throne, determined to continue his rule. So Nicholas had marched with this army in the effort to defend Ormond's right to continue to reign as Highking, but he had little real heart in it.

Despite his convictions, Nicholas knew that even if these lords lost, more would follow until either Ormond left, or he was forcibly removed. So he stayed to the back and offered his talents in the healing tents.

Nicholas had brought his apprentice, Christopher, as well as Chris' best friend Zachary, along for the trip, hoping to teach the young teens something along the way. Chris was talented himself, but still a boy of thirteen and as yet untested. Zack was slightly younger, still twelve, had no talent for magic, like Chris had, but rather wanted to be a squire to one of Ormond's knights. Everyone said that he had the skills to be a squire, but his father was a lowly blacksmith, and both parents died years ago, thus no one wanted to take the orphan on as their own. Nicholas had brought them along anyway, but as the battle began realized that they were of little real use and sent them off onto one of the hills overlooking the valley and the battle raging within. He could just make out their shadowy forms against the star-filled night sky as they watched from atop their hill.

Nicholas watched the two forms at the top of the hill and half wished that he could be up there with them instead of among all of the wounded soldiers. He saw one begin to point at something to the other and turned around to see what the boys had seen. In the night sky and over the hills on the opposite side of the valley, Nicholas thought he saw something moving. The valley was longer than it was wide and stretched out to the north and south along its length. The two boys were to the east on their hill, and the shooting star appeared over the hills to the west. But it wasn't a shooting star like any he had seen before, most of which had flashed by quick as a blink and in a straight line. This one was slowly falling toward the hills, and as Nicholas watched, it seemed as if it had turned.

Chris and Zack were marveling at this falling star as it made its slow and shallow decent toward the west hills. When it turned, they were beside themselves with awe. They had both been sitting on the hill, watching the battle play out below them. Now they were on their feet and watching as the falling star became brighter and brighter as it came closer and closer. A fiery trail extended behind it and the boys wondered what kind of thing could produce such a trail and not burn out or break up or something.

The falling star was close enough now that the light from its fiery trail was reflected off of the western hills as it sped over them. A thunderous roar was beginning to reach their ears as the falling star seared a path through the sky right over the valley below. The boys had seen birds fly higher than this object that was hurling through the sky at unbelievable speeds. As it rocketed overhead, they were nearly deafened by the thunderous noise the object produced. They both fell to the ground, fearing that something might break off and come at them.

It looked like some oblong rock made of solid silver that was burning from both ends as it tore across the sky, over the hills, and into the next valley to the east. Impossible as it seemed, both Chris and Zack could hear individual trees snap as the object plowed through the trees in the forested valley. Then, as suddenly as the noise had come, it had stopped. Everything was silent, even the battle in the valley behind them now had come to a halt. Chris and Zack stood and turned to look at each other, and then ran down the hill toward the healing tents as fast as they could.

Nicholas stood there watching as the two boys ran down the hill. He tried to make his mind work, but the awesome nature of what he had just seen was overriding his ability to remember what it all meant. He was certain he had read something about this somewhere, but was too stunned by the vision to remember where. He was only dimly aware that the fighting had stopped. The soldiers from both sides of the conflict were too stunned by what they saw, and far too exhausted to continue fighting any longer and were slowly picking up the wounded and moving back to their respective camps. The battle had ended, another sign of something Nicholas couldn't make himself remember.

As stunned as Nicholas was, the two boys he had brought with him were bundles of energy waiting to be released. They came barreling down the hill right for him, shouting at him the whole way down.

Did you see that? It came right from the sky! Did you see it turn? It flew right over us! Nearly took our heads off!

The boys yammered all the way down the hill and then yammered some more when they came to a halt in front of Nicholas. Nicholas simply raised his hand to silence them and the two boys stopped... for a moment.

Would it be alright if Chris and I went to look for it? Zack asked first.

Yes, Master, please? Chris added. We'll take our horses, go have a look at what's left and then come back here. The battle's over. We'll be going home tomorrow. Zack and I will be back by then.

Just so long as you don't fall off your horse while asleep on our trip back, Nicholas replied absently. He continued looking at the stars and at the hills to the east, trying to piece together the fragments of thought that were sending up warning flags in his mind.

The boys took his answer as a yes and ran off for their horses saying, We won't fall off. We swear. They gathered their belongings, packed them into their saddlebags and mounted their horses.

We'll be back by tomorrow, Chris said over his shoulder as they galloped the horses up the hills to the east.

Yes, yes, was Nicholas' barely-audible reply as he waved them off and walked toward his own tent; lost in thought and totally forgetting about the rest of the healing that needed to be done.

* *

Garret was almost asleep when he heard a weak knocking at his door. He listened for a moment waiting to see if it was simply his tired mind playing tricks on him. The weak knock was repeated and he could also make out the faint sound of a child crying. Garret leaped out of his bed and relit the candle sitting on the nightstand nearby. He pulled on his trousers over the lower portion of his nightshirt and, picking up the candle, walked from his bedroom and into the parlor.

He called it a parlor, but in reality it was simply the rest of his small house. His bedroom was little more than an alcove from the main structure that was just wide enough for his bed, the nightstand and a dresser on the opposite wall. The rest of the house held the kitchen, dining table, a few chairs, a writing desk, a few smaller tables, bookshelves, cooking stove and humble fireplace all in one room. The front door, where the knocking was coming from, was across the house from the bedroom. A back door to the outhouse was next to the bedroom, between the wall behind his dresser and the fireplace. He had only two windows, which he usually kept curtains drawn over so that no one who found the place would be able to look inside. Not many found the place.

The knocking became even weaker but the sound of crying became louder as Garret crossed the width of the house. It was a strange occurrence among a night of strange occurrences. He had heard the thunderous noise that resonated through the valley. He had heard the trees snap as something tore through them. He had even gone outside to look and see if he could find out what had made all of the noise. The trees around his small house were so thick, however, that all he could make out was a thin plume of smoke far in the distance. Too far to be of any concern to him. So he had gone back inside and forgotten about it. Until the knocking started.

Garret glanced out his window, hoping to see what it was that was outside, but saw nothing. He called up his strength against the unknown and wildly threw open the door. A little body fell into the doorway as the door it had been leaning on had been taken away. Garret instantly recognized the body as that of a little girl. She had long golden-blond hair to about the middle of her back and the shape and size of her suggested that she was little older than twelve, maybe thirteen. But the rest of her he couldn't figure out.

She wore no dress, but rather clothing of some kind that seemed to act like her very skin. It was colored a light sky blue mixed with strips of dark gray. The sky blue fabric seemed to shimmer slightly in the candlelight. She wore strange looking boots, colored to match the rest of her clothing. Not a trace of skin was evident on the child except for her hands and her face, which was now facing the wooden floor. There were a few bloody tears in the skin-like fabric here and there, and the child's hair was matted with blood in spots.

Garret reached down and picked up the girl and sat her against the open door. She was still weeping, but was bringing her tears under control. Garret pushed her yellow hair away and saw two bloody gashes in the girl's left cheek, next to her nose, in a cross pattern. She had a couple of bruises on her face and neck and a small cut along her hairline that had already clotted up. Her left hand also had a small cut on it, but the back of her right hand was covered in metal. Thin strips of metal ran from the back of her hand, down each finger until the first knuckle where the rest of the tips of her fingers were covered in the same metal. Garret had never seen a glove such as this, nor did it look like any kind of armor. The metal looked too thin, and seemed to move with her hand. There were no joints or hinges to the metal along her fingers, and the metal looked as if it was attached to her hand in such a way that it could never be removed. The metal plate on the back of her hand extended to her wrist and covered half of her forearm all the way around, most of which was hidden under the sleeve of her strange clothing. No joint or hinges or anything of that sort could be found as he made his quick analysis.

Between sobs, the little girl started babbling at him. "Kurna lii. Olktaw nais jusa ny ranta gul." She repeated the nonsense over and over to him. It was a language he had never heard before, and he was familiar with most of them.

I-I don't understand you, he tried to say over her gibberish. A metallic thing around the child's neck, which he hadn't noticed until now, began repeating his words, in his voice, three or four times. He took a step back and looked at the girl.

What are you? Garret asked. The thing around her neck repeated his question again three times.

"Kurna lii. Olktaw you jusa ny ranta gul," the girl said.

Garret heard the word you where it had not been before. Before he could wonder why, the girl seemed to swoon a little, the obvious strain of her trauma, both physical and emotional, becoming too much for her. She passed out and fell over onto the floor.

Garret looked at the little girl, and then at the open doorway, and then back. He quickly scooped the unconscious girl into his arms and laid her down on the dinning table. He then ran to the door and closed it, making sure to throw the bolt, locking the door. He checked outside the window and then drew the curtains closed, making sure no light could be seen from outside. The last thing he wanted right now was more visitors.

Chapter Three

MARIE and Aurora

The thin plume of smoke made it easy to see where the falling star, or whatever it was, had crashed into the forest. Chris and Zack had ridden their horses through the forest as fast as they felt safe enough to. Bursts of full gallop to quick trots, they made their way to the fallen object in just over an hour from when they left. As they got closer they began to see signs of damage to the forest. None of the trees had caught fire, which was odd, but a relief. The two boys began to circle around to the north in order to avoid the broken boughs and branches that began littering the forest floor.

They slowly walked their horses around the damaged zone, taking care to observe the broken, battered trees. They came upon the object just as they passed a row of bushes and into a small clearing. The twin full moons bathed the area with enough light that it looked almost as bright as day. They didn't bother with the torches. The object had come to rest propped up sideways against a small outcropping of granite only six feet high. Scattered about were the remains of the various trees it had plowed through, several of which were smoldering, but not actually on fire. There were a few small flames visible in spots coming from the object itself, but none looked as if they were a danger to the rest of the forest. They dismounted their horses and slowly walked the rest of the way towards the object.

The object looked vaguely like some sort of carriage, like the kind that royalty and high-ranking nobles rode in. But it was easily three or four times larger than any carriage either of them had ever seen. It all appeared to be made of metal too, not wood. It looked as if it had once been painted white, but the fire had blackened much of the paint or stripped it off leaving silver underneath. There were gaping holes in spots where metal plates had fallen off, exposing odd-looking tubes of various sizes; a few fires could be seen coming from these gaps in the metal plates. A big hole in the side of the object looked like it might have been an open door. There were windows at the front of the carriage-like object. It appeared as if glass had once covered the windows, but the glass had all been broken out. The body of a man was hanging halfway out of one of the windows; a large amount of blood had run down from the window to the forest floor below.

Chris and Zack looked at each other and then continued walking toward the object. Little more could be discovered about the carriage-like object from the outside, so they looked the body over. The man was wearing some kind of tight-fitting clothing. It was a shade of light blue with strips of gray cloth across and around it in some unrecognizable pattern. Bloodstains marred much of the clothing, but Zack could tell that it was some kind of uniform. On the man's left arm, near the shoulder was a circular patch of some kind. It had a picture sewn into it that looked like some kind of large bird flying among the stars. Around the edge of the patch were symbols that Zack had never seen before. Chris looked too, but couldn't read what appeared to be words of some kind. The carriage was covered in similar symbols, all of which were a mystery to the two boys.

The man had other mysteries. Around his neck and under the blood-matted yellow hair, was a metal object that looked almost like a collar. On the back of the collar, at the nape of the neck, was a flat raised cylinder that jutted out of the collar about a half-inch. The boys couldn't make out what it could be for. The man's right hand had metal on the back and on the fingertips, with strips of metal running down the fingers connecting the plate on the back to the tips of the fingers and thumb. Along the man's waist was a belt that held two objects in place, a small square box and a long slightly curved box. Those two items sparked Chris' curiosity and he began to climb up the side of the carriage to reach them, but the metal was too smooth, and the body too high.

Zack pulled Chris down after his third attempt. What are you doing? Have you no respect for the dead?

Chris looked at his friend. They might be important. They might tell us something about who he was and where he came from. He turned to point at the carriage. This thing is obviously magical. You saw it flying.

No I saw it falling, and on fire at that.

Chris turned back to Zack. It got up into the air somehow. Master Nicholas would want to know how and who this wizard was who did it.

This 'wizard' doesn't look like much of a wizard to me, replied Zack. At least not any wizard I've ever seen. He looks more like a soldier if you asked me.

Well, I didn't ask you. Chris looked around for a bit. We have to at least find out who he was and where he came from. And this lettering doesn't help.

Chris went to the opening that looked like a door and began to enter the carriage, having to duck under the top of the doorway because of the carriage being tipped onto its side somewhat. Zack followed. They entered a small room, almost all of which was metallic. There were other things too, which they had never seen before and therefore had no words for them. Some looked like metal, felt like leather, but sounded like wood when knocked on. Others looked like glass, but also felt like leather and sounded like wood. There appeared to be two beds in the back near the doorway and on one side. Something that resembled a kitchen was on the other side of the walkway they were moving down. Up ahead were four chairs, all covered with something that looked like leather. All kinds of items were scattered about the floor. The man's body still hung halfway out the window.

Looks like he flew through the window and impaled himself on the glass, Zack said.

The glass was already broken. Look. Chris pointed at all the glass that was on the floor and piled up to the left of the carriage. Amongst the glass was a huge pine branch, which had obviously broken through the window as the flying carriage crashed amongst the trees.

Chris walked over to the dead man, reached out, and took the two boxes attached to his belt. One box was metallic and completely silver. The other was mostly metallic and somewhat curved. Chris kept the silver box and tossed the curved one to Zack. There was a hinge on one side, but Chris couldn't manage to open it. He fidgeted and played with it, trying to get it open. He set it down on the table nearby, propping it against something so that it wouldn't slide down the slope, and began to use every unlocking spell he could think of to try to get it open.

Zack in the mean time looked at the thin, curved box. It fit into the palm of his hand nicely, and he was reminded of the time Sir Walter had handed him a crossbow. It was mostly metal except for the underside where it rested in his hand, and up front where there appeared to be a square opening. He couldn't figure out what it was, but it felt like rigged leather, and so he let the thought go for now. The side opposite his hand, what Zack figured to be the top of the box, was even stranger. There were two rows of ten crystal-like things along one end, near the square opening. The top ten were colored; five green crystals to the left and five red ones to the right. The bottom row of ten were all red. Every crystal seemed to be glowing. Below the crystals were two silver, square buttons placed next to each other. Zack pressed the one on the right. Nothing seemed to happen. He pressed the one on the left, for good measure, and the top row of crystals stopped glowing, one by one from right to left they faded out; first the red, then the green. Soon all the crystals along the top were dark. Chris pressed the silver button on the right, and they began to glow again, one by one, from left to right, from green to red, until they all glowed. A round red button was placed below the two silver ones, and Zack noticed that his thumb rested on it perfectly. He pressed the red button.

With a whizzing sound, a thin beam of light shot out of the square opening, barely missed Chris, continued out the broken window, and sliced through a tree branch. Zack's thumb had instantly jumped off of the button as he watched the severed branch fall to the ground, the bark charred where the light beam had hit it. Chris had leapt back with a yelp, dropping the silver box, and landed in the dead man's chair. He shot instantly to his feet to look at Zack.

What in the blazes... His shout choked off instantly, and Zack saw the red from his anger drain instantly away until Chris became pale. Chris pointed at the chair in front and to the right of Zack. Zack stepped forward and looked around the chair. He backed away from it at once. Seated, strapped into the chair was a large doll, almost three feet in height if it were to stand. The sight of it took both boys by surprise.

Where do you think that came from? asked Zack.

It must have been here the whole time and we didn't notice. Let go of me. Chris pushed Zack away and walked over to the doll. It had yellow hair, the same shade as the dead man's hair. Its eyes were closed and it was dressed in the same kind of uniform that the man was in. It looked too rigid to be a simple doll, but rather like one of them wooden puppets. It seemed odd that the dead man would have such a puppet.

I wonder what he's doing with this, Chris said, expressing his thoughts out loud.

Maybe it belonged to his daughter, replied Zack.

Chris turned to look at his friend. What daughter? There's no one else in here. Don't you think we might have found her by now if she was here?

Zack pointed at the chair next to the one formerly occupied by the dead man. Look at the blood on that seat, and on the... the... thing in front of it. Zack pointed at the glass counter in front of the chair. It also had blood on it. Someone else was in here, Zack continued. He looked around and then pointed at the floor. See that? There's blood there. He pointed at red streaks on the floor and then at more of them leading back to the door they had come through. Chris followed his friend as they went back outside the carriage. The bright moonlight made it easier for them to see the blood streaks once they reached the doorway. But the blood streaks stopped at the forest floor.

Zack turned to his friend Chris. Someone else was in there, and they obviously left after it had crashed. I'm pretty sure I can find the trail of who ever it was.

You think we should go after it? Chris asked. What if it doesn't want to be found? What if it's hostile?

It's bleeding and hurt, Zack began, but Chris cut him off.

And most animals in that condition are vicious when cornered.

You're a mage.

An apprentice mage.

And I'm a warrior.

You're not even a squire yet, much less a full blown warrior, Chris protested.

Zack held up the curved box. But I have this. And now I know how it works. If that branch was any indication, this thing could be all the protection we need. Zack thought he heard an echo of sorts after he had finished talking.

Yii! came a voice from behind them.

Chris and Zack slowly turned around and looked back at the doorway, eyes wide with fear. Standing inside, looking back at them with big blue eyes, was the doll.

Yii, the doll said, moving its thin lips and looking very much alive.

AAAHHH!! the two boys screamed in unison and backed themselves over the trunk of a fallen tree, tripping over it and landing on their backs. Zack's thumb pressed the red button on the curved box as he fell, and another thin beam of light sliced through yet another tree branch that fell harmlessly to the ground a few feet behind them. They scrambled to their feet and looked at the doll still standing in the doorway.

The doll looked at one boy and then at the other with a fixed grin on its face. Yii, it said again, sounding much like a little girl, O ishi ti MARIE, Matronikish Atronlita Robish Intronishi Eksponik. Y hinea tur Aurora. Wa nais fyos woli ka ti?

The two boys looked at each other. What in the world IS that thing? Zack asked, his voice quivering with fear.

Before Chris could answer though, they heard Zack's voice coming from the female looking, and sounding, doll. What in the world IS that thing? What in the world IS that thing? What in the world IS that thing?

Yii, the doll repeated, O ishi is MARIE, Matronikish Atronlita Robish Intronishi Eksponik. Y hinea tur Aurora. Wa nais fyos woli ka is?

They looked at each other again. Chris turned to look at the doll. Who are you? What are you? He called out to the doll still standing in the doorway of the carriage. His voice also came from the doll, his questions repeated over three times.

Yii. O ishi is MARIE, Matronikish Atronlita Robish Intronishi Eksponik. Y hinea tur Aurora. Wa you fyos woli ka is?

The two boys recognized that some of the doll's words were being changed to match their own. They ducked down behind the log, out of sight of the doll.

Marie and Aurora, said Chris. Sounds like names to me.

But whose names? asked Zack.

I don't know, replied Chris. Maybe one of them belongs to that demon doll back there? Chris looked at Zack for confirmation of his guess. After each sentence, they could hear their words repeated three times by the doll. Each time seemed to be a bit louder than the last. A thumping noise came from the log and the two boys looked up. The doll was standing on the log looking over them. They screamed again.

Yii. My name is MARIE, Matronkish Atronlita Robish Intronishi Eksponik. I'm hinea tur Aurora. Wa you know woli ka is?

'My name is Marie', said Chris. That's it. She's saying 'Hi'.

Hi. My name is Marie... The two boys ignored the rest as the doll named Marie continued on. Their attention came back to the doll when it asked, Wa you know woli she is?

Zack looked at the doll named Marie. Do you think she's asking us where this Aurora is? 'Do you know where she is?'

It's possible, replied Chris just as Marie said, Do you know where she is?

Zack turned to Marie. Who is Aurora? he asked.

Marie looked at Zack with her big blue eyes. Aurora is the nithra ru Aaron, Marie answered mater-of-factly.

Aaron? Zack said as he exchanged looks with Chris. Chris shrugged his shoulders. Zack looked back at Marie. Who is Aaron? he asked.

Marie turned and with a slightly jerky movement of her right arm, pointed at the man hanging dead out of the window. Aaron, was all she said. Marie put her arm down and turned to face the two boys who were still on their backs on the ground. I'm hinea tur Aurora. Do you know where she is?

Aaron is the name of that man, Chris said. Aurora must be his daughter. This is her doll. That's who was in the other chair.

Aurora is the daughter ru Aaron, Marie repeated. The boys ignored her.

But if that's so, Zack replied, then Aurora left. That was her blood that we saw there. And Aurora's demon doll here, Marie, wants to know where she is.

Do you think we should go looking for her? Chris asked.

I'm looking for Aurora. Do you know where she is? said Marie.

She can't be in that good of shape, Zack answered Chris, ignoring Marie. She's hurt, and it's likely she is also lost and unable to ask for directions. I've never heard of someone learning a language so fast, have you? Chris shook his head. But then, this doll is possessed. I doubt this Aurora will be able to learn our language so quickly. Besides, I don't think anyone lives out here, so there'd be no one to talk to, much less get help from.

Except us, Chris said.

Right. Zack got to his feet and stepped over the log, walking back to the carriage. He took a quick look around the doorway as Chris also stepped over the log and joined him. After a few moments Zack pointed off to the east. It looks like she went that way, through those trees. I think I can follow her trail. Sir Evan showed me how.

The two boys began walking off to the east, but then stopped. Zack turned to Marie. We're going to go find Aurora. Are you coming?

Without answer, Marie climbed down off of the log and walked over to the two boys. Zack, still holding the curved box in his hand took the lead, followed by Chris, and then the doll, Marie, as they made their way into the forest, looking for Aurora.

* *

The girl was waking up. She had only been out for about an hour. Garret had used that time to heal her wounds. He didn't have enough gauze to go around, so Garret instead used his special talent to heal up the wounds. Some of her minor cuts had been simple enough to heal, and left behind no trace of ever having been injured. Others, especially the deep gashes on her left cheek, had been harder, and used up a good deal of energy. It had been so long since he used his special talent, that even the minor effort of healing the child had been a drain. But he had stopped the bleeding, at least, and for the most part left behind a few small scars. But he couldn't completely heal her cheek and knew that a major scar would be left behind after it had healed the rest of the way. But for now the results suited his purposes.

Garret looked up from the chair he was sitting in, regaining his strength from the effort of healing the child, and saw her thin frame stretch as she awoke. He stood up just as her eyes snapped open and began to look around. She tried to speak, but the only sounds were faint muffled noises. She tried to move, but found herself unable to. So she looked at Garret as he walked over to the table. He gently brushed a few strands of yellow hair away from her face, and took a better look at her left cheek. The gashes there were closed and clotted, but it was the shape of the clot, and no doubt the scar that would develop underneath, that intrigued Garret. It had all the markings of a four-pointed star, much like one would find on a nobleman's coat of arms. It was black now, but Garret was sure the scar would be quite pink against the girl's pale white skin.

So we are awake, Garret said to the girl as she looked up at him. The little metal collar around her neck repeated his words three times. He looked at the metal collar. You know, he said and the collar repeated, that thing around your neck is highly annoying. The collar echoed his words back to him. Garret reached out and tried to grab the collar and take it off of her. The girl let out a muffled scream as he tried to find some way to pull it off, jerking her head from one side to the other, making his task more difficult. Garret couldn't find a way to take it off, and soon gave up.

He looked down at the rest of her. It was obvious that the skin-tight suit that she wore was cloth, but he had never seen cloth of its kind before, nor did he know how to remove it either. Even the boots were impossible to remove. She began to twitch and move, but she wasn't going anywhere. He had made sure of that. Her feet were tied down to the table legs at one end, her hands tied to the table legs at the other end. A strip of cloth was tied around her head and placed into her mouth, acting as a gag against her talking her gibberish, or screaming.

She looked at Garret looking