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Here's a thing I wrote I don't know if it's good

The Sibling

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Here it is...

Spoilered for length




Chapter 1 - A Strange Discovery

Jaxan moved swiftly through the night, torch held aloft and eyes down, watching his step. The stone was rough and sharp beneath his feet. Out on the Riftrock, a fall could mean death, and Jaxan had no plans to die that night. His company followed close behind him, dressed in deep forest green. They blended into the night like raindrops in a storm, while Jaxan stood out proudly in his blue and gold cloak. He strode through the darkness, whilst his guard crept behind them. They were only young, he reminded himself. They still feared the Riftrock, and the gnarled wood, as if one day it might come out and swallow them whole. But Jaxan didn’t fear it, no more than he feared the night, or the sea. He was a trueborn elf of Pinerock. He had nothing to fear while he still drew breath.


The sounds came first near midnight, when the darkness was so thick he felt he could touch it, and the wind blew so cold it rattled his bones. It was only a soft noise at first, footsteps, so quiet that they could have been rocks tumbling, or rain falling, or any manner of creature wandering the Riftrock. But when they began to move closer, and grow louder, Jaxan knew they were coming for his small band of scouts. He had to think quickly. He had two choices, to stay and to fight the foe bearing down upon him -whether it be traitors, Reedponders, or Rockhoppers- or he could run. Retreat back to the Barashi keep, and the prince would call him craven, and the castle would gossip as it always did, and nothing would be so far out of the ordinary that it couldn’t be forgotten after a good hearty mug of ale.


Jaxan stood up and moved softly to the firepit. He knew they were watching him, whoever they were. The footsteps had stopped, but it mattered not, for they had grown so close that Jaxan knew they had to have seen him. He could feel their eyes on his back. He wondered if he should wake the others, but as of yet he had only heard one set of footsteps, and if he raised the alarm for a mere scout, he would be dubbed a coward whether he ran or not.

“You can come out now.” He said, forcing the courage into his voice. It wavered, as casual as he had tried to sound.

“You needn’t be afraid.” He clenched his fists and wrapped his long, bony fingers around his scimitar. 


He heard then, through the whispers of the wind, the sound of footsteps again, quick and quiet, coming towards him. They grew closer, until he knew they were right in front of him, and he grasped his scimitar and prepared to block a harsh blow. But instead he felt only a cold hand reaching for his own. A small hand. A child’s hand.


“By the blessed hounds themselves..” He whispered, and pulled the child towards him.

“Berrick!” He cried, waking the guard with a start.

“Light the fire! Hurry now, get us some light!”


Berrick stumbled blearily to his feet and fumbled in his pockets for his flint. The dim light of his sparks did nothing to illuminate the childs face, so he led them towards the firepit. 


“Come “ He whispered, trying to sound at least something close to comforting.

Curse this. He thought to himself. Who on this side of Reedpond would send a child out onto the Riftrock? What is this world coming to? And then; I’m too old for this. Berrick sparks caught at last, and the peeled birch bark crackled into a small flame. Berrick piled sticks and twigs onto his little fire, but the light was still too dim to see by.


“Are you hurt?” Jaxan asked. “Can you speak the Cragtongue? Can you understand me?”


He heard only a gurgle in return. The rest of the scout company were stirring, blinking away the sleep from their eyes as Berrick grew his fire and burned the last of the wood they had brought. In the light he could finally see the child. She sat curled in a ball next to him. Her feet were raised off the ground, and he saw that she had no shoes, and that her feet were raw and bloodied from the harsh Riftrock.


“Child!” He said again, more forcefully this time. “Can you speak? Can you answer me?!”


She flinched, and slowly opened her mouth.


“Oh gods.” Whispered Berrick, from standing behind Jaxan. Jaxan jumped, but not before he got a glance at the inside of the child’s mouth. Where there should have been a tongue, there was only a terrible white scar.



Xanna tumbled down the stairs like a hurricane of sticks and twigs and frazzled hair. 

“Oi!” Shouted Deddrick, the Lord Basharai’s nephew, as she barrelled past him towards the lowest floor of the keep.


Xanna ignored him and continued on her way. He didn’t matter anyways. The lord had more nephews than he could count. It wasn’t as if Deddrick would ever get a lordship. Xanna leapt the last three steps and crashed through the back door of the Basharai keep. It was small, as far as high noble keeps went. Probably the smallest in Pinerock. Well, that was good. It meant that Xanna could get from the top tower to the back door in a matter of minutes. She plowed through the market, which was always set up just outside the castle. The brightly colored tents filled the streets, and Xanna soon disappeared into the crowd of people, pushing and shoving her way throught. 


She exited the market on the east side, brown boots slapping against the cobblestona and red hair whipping in the wind. The sun had just risen, and its rays nearly blinded her. She stared at her feet, eyes flicking across the shoes of strangers, leather boots and cloth socks and sometimes even bare feet. 


“Oof!” Xanna shouted as she crashed into the body of a man blocking her path.

“Sorry mister!” She said quickly, glancing up to see the face of the elf she had hit and praying silently that it was not a noble or anyone important. 


What she saw was a young elf of about 80 years, with a square face and a bristly beard flecked with gray. His hair was black and his eyes were an icy blue, his lips turned into a soft smile.


“Da!” Said Xanna with a grin. “You’re back!”

“Aye,” Said Berrick, lifting his daughter into a hug and pulling her out of the way of the crowd. “I’m back, for better or worse.” Xanna cocked her head.

“Better, I should think.” She said with a smile. “For Ma’s been in a panic since last night, seeing as you’re a day late an’ we didn’t have no word at all whether you were allright.”


Berrick’s expression clouded. “Why were you late, Da?” Asked Xanna, her voice stretching worriedly.

“Darlin ' '” He replied softly “I’ve gotta go. The Lordand the Lady’ll be wantin’ to speak with me, I s’pose.”

“The Lord and the Lady? Why in the Blessed’s name would Basharais be wantin’ to talk to you?” Xanna had quickly lost her perky demeanor.

“I’ve gotta go.” He repeated. 


Behind Berrick Xanna saw Jaxan, the head of her father’s scout group, riding up on a great white and brown stallion. She glanced up at him, but he didn’t bother looking down. Jaxon Pine, son of Lady Basharai and her first husband. Descended from the final king of Pinerock, as he was fond of telling people. Well, he could go run the Riftway for all she cared. Anyways, he wasn’t even Lady Basharai’s first child, so he didn’t much matter anyways.


“Berrick!” He cried “With me!”


Berrick shot her a sympathetic glance, before climbing onto his old gray horse and riding after Jaxan. Xanna raised an eyebrow when she saw, sitting in front of Jaxan on his horse, a young girl of around 20. She had dark brown hair and a round face, her lips drawn tight and her green eyes cold and harsh. Xanna squinted at the girl. What on all of Fal-crag was Jaxan doing with a she-elf 4 times his junior? She shook her head softly and walked off back towards the castle. Maybe she could find Berrick before he spoke to the lord. He was a cousin in law of the Basharai princess, but that didn’t mean much, for elves had cousins like the Riftway had corpses. Any reason her pa had to speak to the lord was bound to be a bit of good gossip.



Jaxan shifted awkwardly in his seat, adjusting his grip on the reins of his horse. The mute girl sat in front of him, body quivering like a leaf. Her hands shook as she stroked his mare’s soft hair. Berrick followed close behind him, jaw set as he spurred his old, bony horse forwards. Jaxan felt a tinge of anger at his young guard, who was so often distracted by an unruly daughter with fireflies where her brains should have been. He urged his mare onwards, racing dangerously through the streets while Berrick fell further and further behind. When at last he arrived at the keep he had lost sight of Berrick in the crowded market. He strode onwards, up towards the great gates, born of oak and iron. They were open, as they usually were. Keep Basharai was the furthest east of the 15 noble castles of Pinerock. There was nothing to fear in the east, where there were only farmers and merchants and the occasional boater coming in from the Bloodrush.


Jaxan pushed his way into the keep, nodding to Derrix Featherboast as he passed by. Derrix was the young squire of General Dywere Basharai, great granddaughter of Lord Basharai’s brother. Derrix hurried after him, joining in step with the elder elf.

“Where are you off you then m’lord?” Asked Derrix casually, glancing awkwardly back to the girl who trailed behind Jaxan.

“Nowhere.” He replied. 


Jaxan felt a growing dislike towards Derrix, who was far too young to make a proper squire, and far too lowborn to be talking so casually with him, second son of the lady of the keep. 


“Right.” Said Derrix, fading back into the crowd of people moving through the keep. 


It grew more and more crowded these days, with the noble family growing larger everyday. Jaxan shook his head and grabbed the girl’s hand, making sure they weren’t separated in the hustle and bustle. He sighed. I suppose that Derrix will tell Dywere I’m off to see the Lord and Lady. He groaned at the thought of confronting the haughty general, who had ever known all the goings on of the keep. Walk into the wrong room, talk to your cousin, fetch some water for your hallmate, and Dywere would know. Well curse her anyways. I’ve no time for politics today.  Jaxan groused.


They burst through the doors together, him and the girl. Berrick, who had finally caught up with them, followed closely behind - At a respectful distance, of course. The oaken doors open with two loud creaks and the group of elves inside all glanced up at once, meeting Jaxan’s eyes and taking in his haggardley appearance. 

“My Lord and Lady” Said Jaxan, dipping his head respectfully.

“Ah, Jaxan.” Sijish interrupted, before either Lord or Lady could reply. “It is good to see you returned safely from your scouting mission. How fares the Riftrock?”


The Lord and Lady Bahsarai’s council was made up of twenty elves, from all the stretches of Pinerock. There were farmers, minors, fishers, merchants, and nobles alike. Each of them, however, wore rich suits and dresses, sewn from fine fabrics. However modest they may have liked to call themselves, a seat on the council was a coveted position with a pay to match the reputation. Each of the council members smirked softly into their glasses at Sijish’s comment. As innocent as the words were, they were spoken with a harsh bite that said much more than words ever could.


You’re not a noble, was what Jaxan heard in those words. Just a lowly scoutboy who calls himself “highborn”. Jaxan’s face reddened, but he forced himself into the room. He turned so as not to have to look at Sijish, the elderly he-elf who held such open disdain for the Lady Basharai and her kin.


“My son,” Said the Lady Lyrashinn Basharai. Her voice was light and soft as a twinkling star, at least Jaxan had always thought so. She had been born and raised in one of the low noble houses, far to the north of Pinerock. Many had thought her too lowborn to wed a Lord, but she was as clever as any elf could be, and ruled side by side with the Lord as best as anyone could have.


“It is well that you have returned. My husband was worried about what may have befallen you.”


The Lord Ekk Basharai nodded along with his wife’s statement, false though it may have been. There was no lost love between Jaxan and the Lord, but even he knew that now was not the time for that old squabble to resurface.


“I must apologize then, father” Jaxan winced at the word father, but pressed on. “For having caused you anguish. I bring no news from the Riftrock other than that the stone is still hard and cold as ice. That the wind still blows and the sun still shines. And perhaps, something else.” 


He led the girl forwards, pushing her towards the two masters of the land.


“We found a girl, out on the rock.”


“A girl?” A voice sneered from the back of the chamber. There stood the young son of the Lord and Lady of the Basharai house. He was in line for the lordship, even before Jaxan or his elder siblings.


“You mean to say that a woman has finally captured your heart, my dear half-brother?” The court snickered. Jaxan bristled, and ignored the young lordling.


“We found her, out on the Riftrock. Someone had left her there. Taken her shoes. And… “

“And what?”


The girl stepped in front of the lordling and opened her mouth, showing the entire courtroom the emptiness inside.


“And her tongue.” Jaxan finished.






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  • 2 weeks later...

Nice! But don't forget the rules of dialogue paragraphing, you're adding unnecessary line breaks at:



“You can come out now.” He said, forcing the courage into his voice. It wavered, as casual as he had tried to sound.
“You needn’t be afraid.” He clenched his fists and wrapped his long, bony fingers around his scimitar.

“By the blessed hounds themselves..” He whispered, and pulled the child towards him.
“Berrick!” He cried, waking the guard with a start.
“Light the fire! Hurry now, get us some light!”


“Oof!” Xanna shouted as she crashed into the body of a man blocking her path.
“Sorry mister!” She said quickly, glancing up to see the face of the elf she had hit and praying silently that it was not a noble or anyone important.


Other than that, I'm really excited to see where this goes!

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6 hours ago, The Sibling said:

I have no idea how to format dialogue,

:lol: Same. I like it though. The storie's quite interesting. I think AltonicKeys is just saying you can keep what the person says in a single paragraph until it gets decently long. It makes it easier to see who's speaking. 

Edited by Gregorio
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