Hi friends! Sorry for the long note, I have a lot to say before I start. After much deliberation, I have decided to carry on with this story. I know many of you are not fans of The Seeker and, consequently, this one, but I
want
to write it. I feel like I need to, to tackle some of my regrets about some of the evil things Venlen did in the last story. Like I said, if I ever try to re-write The Seeker, I would change some things, but it was my first, and I made some mistakes, so for now I'm sticking by them. I also left some loose ends, and I'd like to tie those up. I hate it when stories end without wrapping everything up.
I also have gotten a lot of feedback about how I should abandon this and focus on Poison Ivy, however, it just doesn't work like that. I agree, that story is most definitely my favorite, and as such, it takes A LOT of time and effort to write. Not that this one doesn't, but when I've got a plot in my head, I want to write it down, and I refuse to force myself to write parts that don't come easy. So sometimes, I want to write this, and sometimes, I want to write Poison Ivy.
In short... For those of you who aren't fans... Suck it up, buttercup, and find another story. :) Even though I love you all, and continue to read all your feedback, even the mean or negative. I also had a comment about the use of religious terms in the last chapter. You're absolutely right, and I'm going to go back and change that. Thanks for pointing it out. Nobody has said anything yet, but you might notice that all three of my female characters are virgins. Yeah, yeah. I know. It's getting old. I'd like to think that all three are very different characters, besides having that (and their foul language) in common. All I can do is tell you, change is coming in the next one.
For those of you who did enjoy the last chapter, I should warn you that this one is going to move slow, and it's probably going to be a few chapters of not-so-smutty plot. So you can probably skip this one if that's what you're looking for. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!
If this chapter had a soundtrack, it would be:
Beautiful Girl by Junge Junge, Kyle Pearce, Beautiful Girl -EP
In My Dreams, by Tonight Alive, Underworld
Innocent by Fuel, The Best of Fuel
The Madness by Art of Anarchy, The Madness
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"Not like that. Like this." Amlen leans down and adjusts her grip on the hilt of the short sword she's spent all afternoon practicing with. He straightens, towering over her, and nods for her to try again. She faces the makeshift dummy they had mounted to a wooden pole in the back of the garden. Mimicking the moves Amlen had just demonstrated, she lands an awkward blow across the hay sack dummy's leg. Adrika growls in frustration. "What am I doing wrong?" she huffs, dropping the sword to her side and pushing stray strands of hair away from her sweaty forehead.
"You're thinking too hard," Amlen tells her, placing a patient hand on her shoulder. "You don't become an expert overnight, little warrior. This will take practice. Look." He draws his own short sword from its place at his side, although
his
weapon is about as tall as Adrika. With the deadly speed and strength she knows makes her uncle Amlen one of the scariest men to ever walk this planet, he brings his arm up and then back down, slicing the dummy clean in half. The pieces fly from the wooden pole and lay lifeless at their feet. Amlen looks down and frowns at the felled burlap foe.
Adrika giggles.
Amlen grunts unhappily and turns his gaze back to her. "Your weapon is an extension of yourself, Ri. Imagine stretching your fingers all the way through the steel of the sword. Intention is just as important as technique. When you fight, you fight to kill. Never leave an enemy alive. There is no place for mercy in war, and you can be sure your enemy will not give you the same courtesy."
Adrika frowns and looks at the ground. "What if I don't want to kill?" Without warning, an image that has been haunting her for weeks flashes through her head. Her father's hands, covered with blood, clutching the silver leaf pendant at his throat. "What if I
never
want to kill, no matter what?"
Amlen hooks a finger under her chin and brings her face up to his. "Things won't always be this way for you, Adrika. You are too special to live an easy life. A day will come when you will have to choose between dying and killing. And when that day comes, you will remember what I tell you now, yes? Your heart is pure, but it is also that of a fighter. You can be kind and ruthless at the same time. But you must never, ever, confuse compassion for weakness." His eyebrows draw down in a thoughtful grimace. "You are so much like your mother. You both are many, many things." He smiles sadly, and it is an emotion she has never seen on his face before. "But weak has never been one of them."
He releases her chin and steps away, the sad look from just a moment ago disappearing behind his usual intimidating scowl. "Now, let's go build another enemy for you, little warrior."
Adrika's eyes snapped open, the memory-dream fresh in her mind. She could almost hear Amlen's deep, baritone voice reminding her to be strong and patient. Look for weaknesses. Wait for the right time to strike.
She sat up, groaning slightly at the pain in her side and scowling down at the thin, uncomfortable bedroll that was undoubtably the cause of her discomfort. The kind of chill that can only belong to an autumn dawn hung sharply in the air around the clearing. Looking at her surroundings, she watched the last of the dying embers release a gasping breath of smoke to trail up into the dusky, grey sky. Two figures were laid out nearby, much closer to the warmth than she had been. She climbed to her feet, re-thinking her decision to stay so tucked into the shadows, the stiffness of her joints admonishing her for sleeping so far away from the flames.
Stepping lightly, she crept closer to where the two men slept, careful not to make a sound. She scowled down at Blue, remembering the inexplicable burst of hate she'd felt from him the previous night when he had almost pulled her hair out of her scalp.
Jerk
. Moving past him, she stood over Killian's sleeping form, the steady rise and fall of his chest reminding her of the waves that crashed upon the Eastern shore. Her father had taken her there once, to a small sea-side fishing village, so she would know what the ocean smelled like.
Her eyes danced over the unconscious giant, taking in some of the features she had missed at first. His light hair was streaked with splashes of a deep golden color, like the sun just before dusk. At rest, without the glower or glares he normally leveled at her, he looked... Well, he looked peaceful. The silvery skin of the raised scar that ran the length of his cheekbone stood out in stark contrast with his olive complexion. His features were meant for a happier face, his full, sensuous lips made for smiling instead of scowling. She wondered at what kind of a life had turned him into the man who had stolen her Green and had nearly drowned her. Who kept friends like Bastard Blue over there.
A breeze swept through the small clearing, and she hugged her arms to herself, shivering. Her eyes trailed down Killian's body, noting how the muscles of his broad chest strained against his tight black tunic whenever he breathed in. An inky black tendril curled up in a strange pattern from below the shirt's low neckline, staining his skin, and she wondered what the rest of the strange marking looked like, and what it was for. Heat rose to her cheeks when she looked further down at his leather riding pants, remembering the feel of something long and hard pressed up against her when he had almost kissed her last night. And what the hell was that all about? What was he --
Her thoughts cut off as she caught sight of the little sheath laying on the ground at his side, the hilt of her mother's dagger unmistakable in the soft morning light. She smirked, remembering Amlen's words. He was a fool for keeping it. It was the one weapon she was the most familiar with, the most skilled with. She stepped closer, watching his face for signs that he was awake. She crouched down silently by his side and reached for the dagger.
Suddenly, his hand shot out and grabbed her, yanking her down onto him. In a flash, she had the blade pressed to his throat. She brought her knee down into his chest, her other foot on the ground beside the arm that gripped her wrist, just above the bracelet. Her breath stilled as she glared down at him, the easy, relaxed look on his face doing nothing to slow the pounding pulse in her ears.
Silently, Killian tapped a finger against the silver band, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth, the threat clear. For a long moment, they just looked at each other, Adrika now unsure about her course of action. She hadn't planned on killing him, not yet anyway. Amlen's words echoed loudly in her head.
