The beautiful countryside smelled of fresh grass and wildflowers. The roads this close to Threefold still overflowed with masses of adventurers choosing the easy path to their early quests, though the crowds put the lie to the word “easy.” I walked the fields, confident that the occasional starving wolf or unskilled bandit would offer me little real danger.

They told me
I could be
Anything I wanted
Asked me what
I meant to be
When I grew up
When I told them
"I want to be a mommy!"
They changed their tune
"You can't be a mommy
You can only be a daddy!"
My life could be
A consolation prize
And then they wonder
Why I don't know me

“Rana... He’s toying with you...” In spite of the noise of the dead girl’s screams and the chaos of the fight, Greta’s raspy, sick-sounding voice rang clear in Rana’s ears. She couldn’t see very well, with her eyes teared up from the pain and shock of the blow to her face, but from her voice Rana was sure Greta was barely clinging to life.

“Beria--dan--wen” she slowly spoke, the dagger almost seem to speak to her it name as her mind translated the elven runes. “Beriadanwen”

Slurping back the tea Rall stared at the sword. “We need to talk I think.”

“Please, don’t leave...” he heard a weak voice say before darkness claimed him.

Xabriar gripped the copper bowl full of dark water, his knuckles white around its edge, and forcibly restrained himself. The tools of his trade were becoming more valuable to him by the day, and this one let him see more of the distant goings on than most. He left it on the bench and stalked across the room, muttering to himself.

“Unsheath the sword, would you lad? Can’t be too careful you see, and you have held the sword already.” Rall did as he was asked, laying the naked blade back down on the bench. Were his eyes deceiving him, or was it a bit more polished now?

A note to our readers at the end of the chapter, please bear with us!

Arron stared at her for a moment as he contemplated her suggestion. “So you wish to sneak by the Academy guard, break into your own lab and not be noticed?”

“I thought something was off about you.” Greta said quietly, and Rall nearly fainted.

“Might as well keep that one, it’s shoddy steel, not even worth melting down. And it can’t be enchanted, not even the poorest wizard would waste magic on that junk. I’ll not pay your master for that kind of thing.”

Here's another Whateley fanfic that's been sitting around while I poke and prod at it, there's more to this one but I already have a chapter or two partitioned off, so here's the first one!

This is a story about love and hate. It is a sad story, but it has an important message, and it's not all sad.