FOURTEEN YEARS HAD passed since the night of the storm and the shipwreck, and now Myrtle was mother not only to Ponto, Porto, and Narolia, but also to Peony, Poppy, Primula, and Paladin. Myrtle had soon discovered the folly of naming her children so, Rasa was constantly getting them confused, but since all her children soon give each other nicknames, short, even if odd, it did not matter much. It had started as a game and had soon spread to the children's friends as well. The names had stuck for a surprising number of years.

Narolia was called Glub by most, Ponto and Porto were generally referred to as The Twins, Poppy was just Pop. Peony enjoyed creating gardens out of whatever water plants that she could find by the river and so they called her Reed, if they remembered to, Primula was called Prim, and Paladin was Pal.

Very few people even remembered that her name was Narolia as Myrtle and Rasa had switched it to Pervinca Narolia shortly after their visit to the Hawk Hills; the old prophet's words stayed with them long, mainly his warning.

But even that seemed farther and farther away as the happy years passed in the tiny town of Raye. Myrtle and Rasa watched their brood grow; Rasa worked up in rank from lieutenant to captain of the guard, and the months fairly flew past.

~*~*~*~

Raye was a small town to be sure and was placed not just 'somewhere northwest of Bridgewater up by the Liean Woods,' but rather in the northern part of the Liean Woods. No people other than the ancient Eslieandors would ever have been able to live in that forest, so the tales said. And the tales were not far off the mark. No one did live in the Liean Woods at that time except for the Eslieandors, more commonly known as Lieans. The Lieans, although less noticeably so than the Makezens, were also a people whose fates were surrounded by curses and prophecies, many of them closely connected to those of the Makezens. The conflict between the Lieans and Makezens dated back centuries, swirled in a mist of legend and truth, though what was true compared to merely wife's tales was often indistinguishable, so miraculous and strange were the histories of the two peoples. At some point amid the strife of the two kinds, they faded out of sight and mind; men remembered little of them, and often dismissed them as merely tales told to children. Others had never heard of them. Their existence was hotly debated for a time, then simply forgotten about. Yet they did exist and went one in quiet existence for centuries, traveling among the places seeming only to be inhabited by man and beast, quite unnoticed.

Unbeknownst to the men living not thirty miles from that ominous forest, the Liean Woods were practically crawling with life. Wild and uncouth as they seemed from the outside, crisp order held together an entire world within the boundaries of the massive, dark trees. The forest was divided into five provinces, each with a name, capital of the same name, mayor, guard, general, and a fair supply of captains and lieutenants to keep the peace and safety of its inhabitants.

Amrahill was the largest province, then Raye, although the larger part of Raye remained uninhabited. Rosen was next, Janil and Thanduil were nearly equal in size, though not in population, Thanduil won out there. An ancient fort lay in good repair as a historic landmark on the border between Amrahill and Janil. The Lord of the Wood—kings had long been done away with in the forest—also dwelt in Amrahill in the palace of his ancestors near the Fort.

The forest of the Eslieandors was truly a beautiful place. In the spring wild ramps and bluebells were in abundant supply in the sunniest parts of the woods. Buttercups and violets, white violets, and fiddle-head ferns, as well as maiden-hair ferns, also bloomed and thrived. Patches of long, pale green grasses would pop up as well, with white trilliums, bloodroots, may-apples, jack-in-the-pulpits, and trout lilies surrounding them. May would bring lilacs, and large roses, Peonies, and Tulips to the tended gardens. A little later, in June perhaps, wild strawberries would ripen, and ferns would un-furl, not long after those, gooseberries and black raspberries, as well as the beloved rhubarb plants. Late July and August would bring about the appearance of blueberries, blackberries, and red raspberries. Along with September came harvests of beans, peas, and the blooming of giant sunflowers. October then introduced pumpkins, squashes, potatoes, and gourds, and this month left the year with a flaming display of yellows, oranges, and (not so brilliant) browns. The trees were tall, and many different kinds, depending on where in the forest you were. Evergreens, Cedars, and Pines flooding the north, Oaks, Maples, Crab-apples, Willows, Ash and ever so many more in different parts of the forest. There also grew a strange tree with a soft red bark and wonderful, piney scent which had a circumference wide enough that it took one nearly five minutes to walk all the way around. The roots started strangely high on the sides of the trees going out for several yards from the tree before at last diving into the earth, thick around as a young willow. At one time the forest was densely populated with these, and in their most prosperous years Lieans crafted doors leading into the earth between the towering roots and tunneled homes below the trees, cleverly crafted around the roots which wove throughout the tunnels; and yet the trees lived.

Very few of those homes remained in use by the time Pervinca was born, the only remaining being those which survived war and fire, floods and destruction; relics of days long ago passed. One of these homes Rasa had been raised in and had inherited shortly after the birth of the Twins and Pervinca. It was a massive home under a beautiful, well-tended tree a good three miles out of the town of Raye. Every bit of it was always well lived in though, between seven children and their various pets over the years.

Chances were, a good number of these houses existed throughout the Liean Woods, there whereabouts unknown and repair corrupted. The forest was sparsely populated in respect to its size in the later days, when Pervinca was young. But in the ages long before that, there was hardly a Liean to be seen living outside that lush forest. The forest itself had been larger as well, covering from the northern part of the Four Pine Lake to the roots of the High Peaks, overflowing with life. The population of men in Nordland was considerably lesser at that time, few venturing farther north in Janguala than Shiel's Desert.

For many years the Lieans had lived peaceful lives in their magnificent forest under wise kings, but as happens in all kingdoms at one time or another, eventually a tyrant reached the throne. Taxes became unbearable, and it was soon too expensive for all but the richest Lieans to have animals or crops, so they could not grow their own food. Nor did they have the money to buy food. At last they were driven to doing the unthinkable; raiding farms. And as few men lived in the region, most of the farms they raided and plundered belonged to the Makezens. No matter how many Lieans were captured, or how many times the king of the Makezens ordered them to stop and set rewards for their heads they continued the raids. Desperation turned to sloth, and even some who could have made livings in other ways took up the dry land piracy. Finally, the king of the Makezens decided he had enough; an end must be put to these barbarians once and for all. He cursed them furiously and sent out a decree to his people. The farmers would watch their farms during the night and capture all the Lieans in the raiding parties. Those who were not sent up to King Larcenoch as slaves were put to the sword, and thus the Liean population diminished quickly.

War broke out, but the Lieans were a ragged band of malnourished peasants, and the fight had hardly begun before it was ended, the king of the Lieans decapitated, and those few Lieans who survived soon wished they had not. Slavery of the cruelest sort was forced upon them by the king of the Makezens, and as time wore on, the population shrunk. Not in numbers, though, in physical size. Their numbers were slowly prospering, but the Lieans were shrinking until not even the tallest was over five and a half feet. The majority never came so close.
After nearly two thousand years of slavery, a Liean was born whose name was Josua Handlers, directly descended from the king of the ancient Eslieandors. Where his forefather had failed and destroyed his people with his tyrannous reign, Josua was determined to succeed. When he was in his early thirties Josua began sneaking from slave quarters to slave quarters, rallying the captured Lieans, and convincing them that fighting was needed. Many were of age with Josua or younger, and all knew nothing but the lives of oppression and hate. The very thought of freedom to them was like a strong drink; their judgement slowed and they swarmed Josua, hoping to attack the moment the suggestion was made. But they were not ready, they would be crushed just as easily as every other weak revolt over the years, and Josua knew that. So he prepared, and wisely bided his time. Another year or so of preparation, and Josua declared it time to revolt. And revolt they did; no revolution has ever been deemed so bloody and terrible as that of the Wars of Freedom.

During the war Josua was knocked down, and about to be slain, but just before the Makezen struck Josua called down a curse upon the race of the Makezens. He slumped, mortally wounded, against a great stone gate in the mountain as the crown prince of the Makezens swooped in for the kill.

"What do you want most...Prince?'" Josua had gasped. The prince had been so startled that he stopped mid-swing, holding his blade against Josua's throat.

"You dare address me, slave?" He spat.

"I am not your slave—ah—or anyone else's..." Blood had filled Josua's mouth and he groaned as it spewed forth. He knew himself to be beyond hope, but if he could only buy his people some time... "Tell me what it is in the world that you for the most....and I—have the power to give it to you..."

Never had a kingdom had such a vain prince. He spat in Josua's face, then in half-jest, cried, "That I were bright as the dawn, handsome beyond mortal measures, and should have those of my house the same, only more beautiful and graceful than doves for the women." He sneered at Josua, letting his blade slide along the skin of his throat, causing a trickle of blood to flow.

"Then let your wish be granted..." Josua gazed beyond him at the distant sun, "but if you kill me here and do not let me die in peace...if ever you pursue my people..." He grunted through clenched teeth at the effort to continue speaking. "Then you shall be cursed. You and all your people. The sword shall never leave your house, sons shall turn against their fathers, brothers against their sisters..." The prince decided he had heard enough of this muttering slave. He raised his sword for the final blow. "You shall not leave these mountains...or any of your people until the curse is broken...or death, long, slow, painful deaths will meet you there. The living dead, flesh tearing from your bodies...no rest to the souls of your house until the breaking...decay and stench, the living dead!" Josua was screaming now, a wild light in his eyes, blood spurting from his mouth at each word. Suddenly his voice dropped, "Until the one is born who can break the curse—a son of your direct decedents...give up life to save a Liean he loves...never feel effects of curse, only wish...be cursed!" The blow fell, silencing Josua the Brave forever.

From that day onwards they were cursed, and only at a direct command or last desperate attempt at freedom would they leave their mountains. The living dead they became once they had done so, and only the utmost desperation would cause an attempt at escape. So the learned knew that when the Makezen king's Searchers were sent out that something to alter the endless pattern of the world was about to happen. The Lieans guessed that it would affect them in some way or another, and guards on the entrances to the Liean Woods doubled. If the Makezen's had ventured to leave their mountains, then surely they had good cause, for not one of them would live long once they left.

~*~*~*~

There were those counted as wise among the Lieans, keeping great books and learning of the curses and prophecies from the time of the Wars of Freedom, but always they searched deeper, and their gained knowledge was limited and doubtful. Something had happened once the Lieans had been captured; and after the Wars of Freedom, it became a constant source of curiosity as to what the ancient Lieans had been thinking when building in the Liean Woods. Everything was just out of reach; doors wide and tall, what furniture remained was at a rather too large scale. So the Lieans decided to start again, clearing out towns, building houses like the Makezens built them, for they knew no other way.

Where the forest met up with the High Peaks had held the majority of the traditional under-tree homes, but now, after the Wars, it was simply blackened wasteland. Maps were re-drawn, marking this spot as the Burned Wastelands, provinces were re-measured, a palace re-constructed.

That was as far as they got before conflict arose. Conflict was bound to arise at some point, and many minor ones had already been delt with, but this time it was different. Some called for a king, expected all along that things would just go back to how they had been before the trouble with the Makezens. Others blamed kings and their individual corruptness for the devastation that had been brought upon the Lieans. Some called for a lord and lady, others for freedom to do as they wished without anyone bossing them around or taxing them. Still others suggested a president or prime minister. Fights broke out in councils and streets, protesters attacked opponents, Lieans lazed about and refused to work; after living their whole lives at the mercy of a whip, they found they had not the power to force themselves to work. To simply lay in the sun was enough.

Trouble after trouble arose, and in the end a Liean gathered all his followers, up to a third of the Liean population, and they left, marching south to make a home for themselves separate from the homes of their ancestors. A new age had come, they declared, and it was time they changed up the old ways. Then, after more discussion and arguments, a half of the remaining population fled across the Single Star Channel. They knew how to work the mountains for a living, not the earth, and wanted to keep with what they were familiar with.

Those who stayed behind in the Liean Woods elected a Lord of the Wood and went on with their lives, trying to bring prosperity back to their people. But even once peace had settled and civilization was found again trouble refused to leave them. Disease ravaged Rosen and Janil, wildfires exploded from Raye to Amrahill, cutting them off from the Four Pine Lake, pirates attacked the small villages that covered the coast of Thanduil, and the population crumbled to the very edge of existence. But they persevered, and after time, they pulled through, and the true restoration of their forest was begun. Years passed, then one day a messenger arrived from the south, a Liean bringing word of those Lieans who had taken off southward. They had elected a king and begun a life south of Shiel's Desert, a kingdom on the edge of the Silent Seas in a place they called the Hidden Valley. Several years more passed before word was brought from the east, and it was much like that of the south; a king had been raised up and they had an abandoned miner's mountain in which to make their kingdom. The Hawk Hills, they said, contained a hidden beauty, and there they would settle.

In the Hawk Hills they became less of what Eslieandors had been; the Water People as the name had once meant. In the Hidden Valley they still kept to the water, yet less so than those in the Liean Woods. Wood and water had been their talents, to disappear into the forest or under the surface of the river. The pressure of going deep below the surface had no effect on them, and records were being made and broken within a day of their formation for time spent underwater. The record that held the longest was set by a young Liean called Clement Windings; he dove down underwater and stayed there for nigh on three hours, and nearly passed out upon his explosion to the surface. Three hours remained the record, even when Pervinca was young, with many coming close, but none breaking it for the longest time.

~*~*~*~

As Pervinca Narolia grew, Myrtle began to worry; she was different from other Lieans. She looked nothing like any of her family members, and there was something else about her—a glint in her eye, the light skip in her step—that held her apart. She was an extraordinarily beautiful child; dark silky locks of hair curling long past her shoulders, bright emerald eyes that seemed always to hold a bit of laughter in them, a beautiful smile that lit up her whole being. And she had a way of looking at a person with those bright, knowing eyes, and tugging the truth out of them.

Whenever Pervinca asked a question, Myrtle could not resist the pull of those eyes, and told her more than she meant to, often enough. Only on one thing she remained adamant with herself about; she would not dishonor the dead, Pervinca would know nothing of her birth. Nor would anyone else. And so the years passed, Myrtle holding tight to the heavy secret that she was raising a Makezen, and all the while watching Pervinca grow and loving her more fiercely by the day. A beautiful young woman she was becoming, quick thinking, and horribly mischievous. Between her and the Twins, it seemed that trouble of some sort was bound to happen at any moment, but somehow Rasa and Myrtle never managed to catch them in the act.

~*~*~*~

Thirteen-year-old Pervinca blinked her eyes and gazed up at the boughs swaying gently in the early morning breeze as the sun shone brightly on her face, filtered through a green curtain of leaves. She folded her hands behind her head and let out a little sigh of contentment, a dreamy smile crept over her face, and she wiggled a bit to make the hammock she lay in sway gently back and forth. Pervinca felt she could lay there forever. The various birds had given their daily concert at four o'clock that morning, and now had settled back into a calmer arrangement of songs. She loved summer more than any other time in the year, and not the least because of the countless nights spent out of doors sleeping in hammocks. But the festival days and the days that she was allowed to do as she liked and sleep as long as she wished were better than just any other summer day. Or the days I can just lay here as long as I like, Pervinca laughed quietly to herself. There was no real sleeping once the birds had done their bit of early morning preforming and the sun had sprung up, so bright it seemed to be laughing and teasing her, calling, 'I'm up, now you have to be up as well! Isn't it delightful how I rule your time?' And Pervinca would lay there a bit longer, enjoying the warmth, and taunting the sun right back; I can do whatever I like, so there.

Unfortunately, this was not one of those days. There was really only one of those days all year; other times she had the typical household chores and such.

Only a few weeks and that day will be here! She thought excitedly, wriggling a bit at the thought. Fourteen...I'll be so old. She frowned. But not just yet. I've still got a couple of weeks, then it's not as if I'll be the oldest one. Ponto, Porto, and I all will be fourteen on the same day, then Sandy'll turn fifteen two weeks after. Poor old Trout only just turned thirteen, and Eggs is maybe...I think fourteen...I'll have to ask her. Oh, summer days! Finally, really here!

The festival celebrating the beginning of summer, Sich-de-Juan, meaning Six days of June, was long over now, and summer had set in for real. Which meant everyone was up with the sun and working cheerfully through the heat. Everyone except me, she mused. A snore from a hammock nearby reminded her that her identical brothers also preferred to skip the early morning work routine. She wasn't sure how they were still asleep for real. Suddenly she stiffened. Someone was coming their way, and fast. How she knew this, she could never tell, but her instincts about such things had time and time again proved themselves infallible; she had learned to trust them.
She twisted to one side, evened out her breathing, and closed her eyes lightly, feigning sleep. She was certain it must be her mother coming to get them up. Maybe she'll have a change of heart and decide we need the rest...even the tone of the thought held little to no hope. Pervinca tried this nearly every morning, and although it had not worked yet, she continued in her display of persistence.

Her hammock was suddenly jerked hard and swung out of control, Pervinca twisted about wildly in a desperate attempt to stay in. She failed and fell onto the soft turf with a muffled thump. She scowled up at the disrupter of her peaceful reverie. Her father stood above her with an attempt at a serious reprimanding face, which failed miserably and melted into a loud burst of laughter.

"So! There was someone in that hammock after all! I wondered and wondered what that squirming lump was, why, I thought it may have been a new sort of giant silkworm whose silk we could sell for a fortune."

She stood and shook her head in mock reprimanding disapproval. (That is, the disapproval was real, the reprimanding not as much.) "Really Father...you know I could have died, falling from that height."

He raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. "I happen to recall you falling from considerably more dangerous heights, and as you seemed to have proven invincible then, I had no doubt you would now as well. Besides, you ought to have been up already, it's another beautiful day!"

She wasn't through with her attempts yet, "What if I'm having a growth spurt? I'd need more sleep in that case. Or what if your disrupting of my rest causes brain damage?"

Rasa shrugged, "Then the damage is done, and it is too late to reverse. Now, I need you and your brothers dressed and ready for the day in two minutes. Hurry!"

"Twenty minutes. Please? You have to give us time to get up, at least!"

"Five at most, and you already are up. Why do you think I flipped your hammock? I've got to run, but go wake the Twins now, please. Master Bur needs help thatching his roof." Rasa broke off into unexplainable laughter, "Why, when he first took ownership of that inn, he could have done it himself, but now...I guess all innkeepers are fat after all! Hurry up now, laundry day and your mother needs your help down at the river. But I want you to walk the Twins to the inn first. They got into a bit of trouble with the butcher yesterday, and I'd rather not have to worry about them taking any unnecessary detours."

Pervinca had already known about the butcher and needed to ask no questions. And it was amusing to hear her parents' late-night discussion concerning the incident. Who does he think masterminded that? She couldn't imagine either of her brothers pulling of a stunt like that unaided. And, like always, Pervinca had managed to wipe her fingerprints off the whole business, leaving Ponto and Porto to take the punishment. They had been none too pleased with her the previous night, and she doubted very much that their attitudes had improved. Her forcing them awake would certainly not gain her any ground. No help for it now, she set off to face her daunting task. She would need the whole five minutes just to get them awake and convince them not to murder her.

Rasa chuckled under his breath as he watched his eldest daughter march determinedly to her brothers' hammocks. Then he spun on his heel and stepped lightly to where he had left his horse, a beautiful palomino mare grazing unattended. He mounted with ease, gave his mare a soft kick, and she trotted off, with Rasa in the saddle and his long sword dangling at his side.
He was one of the few fathers in Raye that did not apprentice any of his children, he hated having children around him while he worked, even his own, it was too dangerous. He was Captain of the Guard, fourth unit, and assisted in the training of new soldiers, or guards. Though rumors swirled that he would very likely be promoted to the rank of general soon—he had taken over most of the old general's duties when he died, a fairly recent event, and now most people said all Rasa Haolims lacked was his rightful title. One day, when they were old enough, it was in common agreement that one or both of the Twins would join the guard; as it was, they had small bows and a quiver full of blunted arrows with which they were well acquainted. Pervinca had one as well, much to the disappointment of her mother.

For now, though, the Twins were generally employed on odd jobs in random people's shops; they were too mischievous to stay in one place for too long. When she could, Pervinca went with them, but recently she had been stuck at home with her mother more and more often, learning what her mother called The Ways of a Lady, and what the Twins had dubbed Glub's Torture Chamber. And she always went with her mother on Laundry Day.

~*~*~*~

When the three Haolims entered the Wayside Inn, they found it strangely full, and everyone seemed in a state of frantic anxiety, many were whispering and giving the three young Lieans strange, suspicious looks. After she left her brothers with the inn keeper, Wittbe Bur, to be delt with as he wished, and glanced at the large clock hanging on the wall to see if she still had time to spare before heading to the river, Pervinca (or Glub, as she was more commonly known) headed into the kitchen in search of a friend of hers who was taking on a part-time job at the inn as well. She spotted him at a large oven just taking out a pan of freshly baked rolls and hurried over.

"Hello Sandy," she greeted him cheerfully.

"Morning Glub..." he grunted, poking at one of the rolls with a knife to see how done they were. "Have you eaten anything yet today?"

"Well... my mother has my breakfast with her at the river, but it most likely won't be enough to sustain me till lunch, I wouldn't mind one of those rolls if that's what you mean."

Sandy glanced up for a moment, set the rolls on the table, and then inquired, "Laundry Day?"

"Ah, yes. You'll meet me by the river?"

Sandy nodded, "If I can, you know I will."

"And if you can't?"

"I probably will anyway, because you force me to, and I'll get fired because of it."

Glub laughed, "Fired! You're an apprentice, not an employee! You overexaggerate. Honestly though, you think they'd fire their best apprentice employee at cooking just because he was late once?"

Sandy scowled, "Apprentice, not employee. And whatever do you mean by 'late once'? With all your schemes and ideas, it usually winds up being more than once, and if my cousin is involved too..."

"Who, Eggs? No..." The small bell above the door clanged loudly, then again and again. Glub looked up to see that the few people occupying the small inn had multiplied considerably, and all were murmuring worriedly together.

"Sandy," Glub began, reaching for another roll he offered her, then coughed, choaking on it, and gladly accepted for the glass of water he held out. When she had recovered her breath, she glared at him suspiciously, "What did you do to that? You're last one might even have been called decent, but not that one!"

Sandy smiled innocently.

Glub looked closely at the roll, then at last plucked out a finely ground green something and examined it suspiciously.

Jalapeño, I think. A loud bang from the other side of the room and an angry shout brought her back to the present, and what she had been meaning to ask Sandy. She leaned across the counter towards him and whispered, "What's going on? I was in here earlier this week too, and everyone seemed unusually tense; it's worse today. They seem like they're afraid of something, or someone—they are all so jumpy and hushed and... and..."

"Anxious?" her friend suggested. "Overwrought? Apprehensive?"

"Maybe..." she said doubtfully, "or something anyway. Where'd you come up with 'overwrought'?"

Sandy tapped the side of his head in mock seriousness, then replied, "I have brains."

"Are you attempting to imply that I do not?"

He smirked, and she made a face at him. Sandy just shrugged. "You deserved the roll with the jalapeños. And I probably heard 'overwrought' from Eggs. Just last night she said that her—let me think a minute—her antiquated piebald feline was experiencing agonizing convolutions of the abdomen. She might have said that her old spotted cat was depositing a hairball... And when I said that she looked at me like I was the one who was crazy. Would you mind repeating your original question?"

Once Glub repeated herself Sandy grinned at her, "You're always wondering about everything, especially if it has nothing to do with you. How about the butcher? Did you—" She gave him an innocent raised-eyebrow glance.

"I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about."

He studied her expression with a long, searching look, then shrugged again. "I guess I have no proof. You're good, but I'm going to catch you in the act one of these days."

Glub smiled sweetly. "Oh! But then you will be as deeply involved as I am, and would gain nothing from turning us in. Go on with your explanation, please, my good sir."

He glared at her, knowing full well that it was true. He went on eventually though. "I wasn't supposed to hear this I think...I know... but you never know what you'll hear at an inn. I really couldn't help myself, and they may all be rumors, but—"

Glub glanced quickly around the inn, "Hurry up, Sandy, before someone calls you!"

"Do you want to hear it or not? Then be patient! Well, they say—"

"Sandy... SANDY, SANDY! Now where has that useless boy got off to this time? Of all the indolent nuisances..." the inn-keeper's annoyed voice split through the air.

Sancho Hardwater (who was nearly two years older than Pervinca and called Sandy just as a nickname) shot a quick glance towards the kitchen, then turned back to Glub, gave a falsely apologetic smile, and murmured, "Glub, I've got to go, I'm late already. Besides, your mother is probably waiting for you at the river. Have fun with laundry!" She scowled. "I'll see you at noon!"

Then he jumped up and ran through the kitchen, calling "Coming!" as he went.
He left a very exasperated Glub sitting at the counter with a half-eaten jalapeño roll in her hand. She looked over to the clock on the wall, "Late! Oh, goodness, I'm late!" She leaped up and rushed out of the inn.

~*~*~*~

When noon finally arrived Glub was waiting for Sandy on a rock besides the river. Soon boys and girls of all ages were rushing from the village. There were loud splashes and yells as they plunged into the water. Ordinarily Glub would be one of the first to jump in the water, but today she wanted to ask Sandy about the tension in the village, and about why he had rushed off so soon when the innkeeper called. Sandy usually could afford to wait until at least the third call.

He didn't show it, but the innkeeper was really fond of the boy. She turned to the side when she heard a sigh coming from next to her. Peony, Poppy, Primula, and Paladin were sitting on the rock beside her, Myrtle had left Glub in charge of them until she came back, she had run home to find Paladin a clean shirt; he had gotten his all muddy while playing with the other young boys, who, aside from a few house-hold chores, did nothing but play all day long. How wonderful to be young again. Glub thought wistfully. Then she repeated this remark aloud, and soon all five were howling with laughter, for a certain occasion had been brought to mind with those words.

Glub and Peony hopped off the rock in order to re-enact the scene. Glub was to be a Liean who could fairly be described as ancient, and Peony was being their father. The interaction between the two had been the most entertaining thing to have happened the whole month, besides the incident with the butcher, but very few people were entertained by that. Raye was a quiet village to say the least. Glub snatched a stick up off the ground and trotted behind the rock, then re-emerged a moment later, using the stick as a cane, and having tied her hair around under her chin to make it look like a beard. The youngest three shrieked in pure delight. Then Peony entered the stage, with her hair done up in a like manner, and another stick to be used as Rasa's sword, until Poppy reminded her that their father did not have a beard. Peony said it didn't matter.

"He might have shaved since then." She reminded them.

"Yes, but that was only last week!" Glub laughed.

The two in disguise parted ways, meaning they walked a few paces in opposite directions, then turned, and marched back to each other. That is, Peony marched, Glub hobbled slowly.

"You've got to look older, Peony! Father isn't that young. You too Glub! Mostly you," Poppy hollered from atop the rock.

They both obliged, and then reached each other, at which point Glub cried out in a cracked voice, "Oh...to be young again! The woeful miseries of a life lived out too soon...ah, the fortunes of those in their youth...but to travel the world in your young days...dear me! The end is always tough, lad. You'll look to be marriageable age soon!"

The old Liean had been more than a little crazy and had shuffled off singing 'Fadewing Drakktour' in his high cracked voice as he passed along down the road. Rasa had not known that four of his seven children were sitting atop a roof enjoying the spoils of that day's work (not the work they were supposed to be doing, to be sure, but they had decided it was deserving of a reward nonetheless) not two paces away at the time and had seen the whole exchange. The apple doughnuts had lost their flavor to the four Haolims watching, and the loud guffaws bursting from the rooftop had instantly attracted Rasa's attention. But beyond a stern admonition about sitting on other people's roofs, Rasa himself had been so overcome with mirth, though he tried to cover it in respect of the old Liean, that he could do no more in the way of discipline. Reenactments of it had been frequent that week, this was the fourth in two days.

Laughter redoubled at Glub's speech, so she decided to take it to a new level, and somehow the old-Liean-and-Father encounter became a duel, in which both threw off their disguises and declared themselves fell warriors in the flower of their youth.
Sandy rushed over just then, along with some other playmates, all waving sticks in the air as swords and hollering at the top of their lungs. Myrtle came into view just as they did, and Primula and Paladin rushed off. Poppy snatched up a stick and rushed to join the fray, as her sisters were already fighting. After laying low a few of her peers, Glub turned to face the biggest challenge of all; Sandy. He was easily the best 'stick-Liean' as they called themselves.

"You challenge me?" Sandy cried to her in mock surprise.

"Yes," she murmured.

"What was that?" he teased, "If I am not mistaken you said 'yes',"

"Yes, I do!" Glub cried vehemently, lunging in for the first stroke.

The battle was on. It was a duel to behold. Lunge, step back, side-step, strike out, pull in, twist, leap, lunge. All the other's soon put an end their own private fights to watch these two. Glub and Sandy often clashed sticks, but today it was different. Today Glub was holding out longer than usual, but not just that. Today Glub was attacking, forcing Sandy to take the defense. And she was seeing more. None of the others knew, but with a glance into Sandy's eyes, Glub could anticipate his next move, and that was it. A bit of eye contact, just the briefest glance, and Glub could hear in her mind Sandy's voice chanting the cadence of his feet, where he would strike next. Then the Voice would fade away...eye contact again, and it would be back. Lunge, twist, to the side, forward, jump, strike in, faster, faster, faster! Sticks flashing, feet moving too fast to be seen in an odd and complicated dance, faster, faster, always faster! Then suddenly, CRACK! Both sticks snapped in half as they made contact with each other, and their owners collapsed to the ground, neither claiming victory, both laughing and congratulating each other.

This must be how real swordsmen do it, Glub thought, they learn to read their opponents. Though I never knew they would hear their opponent's voice in their heads. I'll have to ask Sandy if he heard mine.

"I'm hot." Sandy announced, "Let's go swim now."

The others shouted their agreement and rushed off as though controlled by one mind. But before Sandy could go anywhere Glub grabbed his arm.

"So," she began slowly, "what were you going to tell me about at the inn this morning? You know, before you got called away."

"Me...tell you? You're the one who asked!"

"Sandy, please?"

"I don't think now...I'm really-very-extremely hot. I think I'll die if I can't swim."  He teased.

"And I'll go mad if I don't know! (And how would you like it if your best friend went mad and it was all your fault?) Besides, it was not just the people at the inn this morning, all the adults I have seen today have been acting worried, even my mother, and I have never seen her acting anxious. I need to know what is going on. Please."

"Well...I guess going mad could be worse than dying," Sandy mused, but his tone was doubtful.
Glub instantly put on what she thought to be a pleading expression.

"Fine, I'll tell you." He paused to gather his thought, ran a hand through his hair, stuck out his tongue and chewed on it for a moment, then, just as Glub's patience was running low, he began.

"You remember a few weeks back when a strange man came wandering through Raye?" Glub nodded in the affirmative. "They say that he wasn't a Liean from Gladhill Vale as he said. It turns out that Gladhill Vale was all but destroyed in a fight with Pirates last year, the capital town of Thanduil helped it out of its trouble, and they re-named it. Then, so they say—" (Glub did not have to ask who they were, Sandy got information from just about everyone) "— he was not actually even a Liean at all! And he was going around asking for someone named...someone named...I can't remember. Anyway this stranger must have told others about Raye, because just last night another stranger came through, looking for the same person."

Glub was silent for a moment while she took it all in, then she asked in a suspicious tone, "How did these strangers get past the Guard?"

"Ahh, well, that's the part that has everyone so frazzled," Sandy continued in a solemn voice, warming to his subject. "You see, there are some who suspect that one of the guards is letting these strangers in."

Glub's green eyes grew wide, "Oh my...but why were they staring at us, the Twins and me, I mean. We are not in the guard."

"No. But your father is one of the highest captains. Highest ranked, and most likely to become the next general. Don't look at me like that, I didn't say it first!"

They sat there for a moment, each buried in their own thoughts, and they would have sat there longer if Sandy's cousin, Auora Eglantine Roper, Eggs for short, had not called for them to join a game of underwater tag.

Sandy was just preparing to leap in when Glub gave him a nice hard push from the back, landing him with a splash in the river. He managed to grab ahold of her arm at the same instant she pushed him and pulled her in also. Just as they were swimming over though Sandy came up coughing and spluttering in shock. Two strange thoughts had just randomly popped into the front of his mind, strange and frightening.

The first was the name of the Liean whom the two strangers had been seeking. Narolia. The second was Glub telling him that for the first six or so months of her life her parents had called her Narolia, until changing her name for some mysterious reason to Pervinca with Narolia as a middle name. What if...but no, it was not possible.... yet...What if the reason her name had been changed was because these rough-looking men were following a Narolia? What if the Haolims had moved to Raye from wherever they had been living in the outside world to escape those men? What if those two men had been looking for Glub?
But...why?

A/N: Sorry, I know, the first chapter's really long and kinda lame...But there are some important things in here and I wrote the dialogue when I was twelve. Believe me, it gets better the further along the line you get! If you're reading this, please please PLEASE go check out my other book, Possessed. It's very different and unfinished, and I'm excited for it!

Also this book is finished, I'm just adding chapters every now and then. If you're reading...Thank you so much!