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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

Your new commander


maglinvinn

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Alrighty folks. Its been a considerable amount of time since i was last active on these forums, and i don't see much in the way of motion around here but still i think i should post at least some a day to keep a fire going on my own. What i'll be posting is the story of Maglin Vinn, as designed in an OLD PSW, back in DM5. Tarwin's gap had taken place, but at the time of this writing, the seanchan still hadn't made themselves evident. Near the end of my tenure however, my seafolk character, Jio DinSorin, for any of you historians out there, had been on an RP that had just spotted odd ships and sails on the horizon.

 

To introduce you to my character, i've decided that a re-posting of the original bio is in order, and thankfully i found a binder that contained the 52 pages of it. yes... 52 pages. :) I'll be posting, in order, elements of that story of the course of the next few days.

 

Lets start here:

 

Vinn stands just under 6 foot, though with feathered cap and his riding boots, he could be confused for an aiel in height (heh). He dresses in a primary red sorta way, his hat a blood red felt, with a bleached white ostritch feather, and a pair of peacock feathers next to it. He has hair down past his shoulder blades, a mix between wavy and curly, depending on how short it might be, tied back with a simple red leather strap. His face is angular, defined by blue eyes beneath hard eyebrows, a mustache that reaches for the side of his face, and a pointed goatee that doesn't connect to the hair above the lip. his complexion is of a darker sort, not so much tanned as is his heritage. He wears the outfit of a coastal courtier, a ruffled light blue blouse under a red diamond patterned vest, covered with a coat matching the cap in color. the coat itself is usually open in the front, collar turned up, heavy cuffs and edging, much akin to a sailor's great coat. There's four pockets on the front of it, the lower two big enough for his hands, the upper two, a pipe, or perhaps something of a similiar size. His belt is wide, holding two swords over his right hip, and on occasion, one over his left. two pouches hang from the belt as well, one with tabac, the other with the necessities of life. his breeches are of a middle quality, a deep red brown color, and tucked into the tops of turned down riding boots. the boots are brown, with black bands, and small silver medallions in the front of the ankle. He walks with a rolling gait, and seems to have a smile on his face at all times... a sarcastic one at least.

 

He drink ale with the best of them, and can be found with a small cask under his arm as often as a small silver flute in his hands.

 

Tied about his neck is an embroidered cloth, though what it depicts is unknown, as he's never seen without it on.

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Prologue: Silence

 

Silently the fire burned in its place. The shadows on the walls danced, free, yet somehow captive to the light. The light creaking of wood on wood and then the sudden snap of a stick in the fire. Slowly the world came awake, as did young Maglin. He sat up, slowly of course, and shook his head. The result was a mild dizziness but the confusions of the sleep world were chased away in the end. As he did, he could see his mother, oh so beautiful, rocking back and forth in her chair, watching the fire as her hands automatically sown yet another exquisite scene of some unbelievable world. He watched for a moment, but a not so silent yawn alerted her to the otherwise quiet audience, and she turned to see him awake. She smiled once, told him to sleep more, and turned back to the fire.

Silence, once again. Awakened by the slight sound of crying and mourning. Maglin had closed his eyes, grieving, not understanding what was happening in front of him truly, as his mother was laid to rest in her coffin. The polished oak panels were something of a pride of his father’s, who offered only a short while from his fields to carve one last beautiful thing for his wife. The coffin itself was shrouded by one of her most magnificent embroideries. The cloth was one of a man dressed in reds, holding a slight and slender sword, watching with a look on his face that yelled anger and relief at the same time. An army of sorts, men on horse and with bows, standing over the bodies of their last conquest, bordered him in a very non-specific way. It was as if the man stood surrounded by the armies, as if he might lead them, but from a very subtle place. Maglin let his tears fall, as his mother did the same into the earth.

Silence. Then the thumping of something heavy nearby. Jarring like being on a very unstable horse. Then water flew through the air, crashing into his face as he coughed and sputtered. His eyes flew open, if a sluggish and lazy sort of motion could be called flying, to see blue without impurities with a depth so great that it must be the home of the creator himself. Then the sudden interruption of an ugly face, that of his father, as the man reached down and yanked Maglin to his feet.

“Boy! I haven’t the time to waste on you! You best be starting to turn this bloody hill before I beat you with the plow itself!”

Suddenly the sun became unceasingly obvious and Maglin knew why he was laying on the hill as opposed to working it.

“Water father. I need water.”

The man, who had started to walk away, turned back around. “What!” He walked to Maglin who fell to his knees from his lack of balance. “Boy, the crops need water, not you! Blood and ashes boy, what do you think I am, your waiter?”

He reached out a slapping strike to Maglin’s head, knocking him the rest of the way down, returning the poor boy to silence once again.

Silence and darkness, hand in hand, as the night shrouded the truth from others. Maglin walked out from the shadow he hid himself in as he saw Mahaga walk past.

“Mahaga. I needed to tell you. I’m leaving. I cannot stay here.”

Mahaga looked at him, and then at the hand Maglin had grasped his arm with. “Why in the bloody light would you do that?”

Maglin looked back to where the far sat. “I cannot live with my father anymore. He’ll end up killing me before it’s done.”

Mahaga followed Maglin’s gaze, and nodded. “Well, I don’t suppose you got any bloody idea where you are going do you?”

Maglin shook his head. “But I do! I am going to go north, to the city, and become a mercenary for a caravan. Maybe after that I’ll work my way up!”

Mahaga scoffed. “You will need a sword before you can do that.”

The sword was in Maglin’s hand fast enough to impress the other boy. “My father’s sword. Its not much, but its sharp.”

Mahaga laughed. “Maglin. I have been your friend for bloody ever, and I’m going to tell you straight. This goes past your commonly stupid antics, its bloody insane!”

The silence was short this time. “I know, but I must.”

 

 

 

***

Some notes about this entry. Mahaga was a real RPer, back many years ago. He's also a very close IRL friend... he's actually married to my sister. You'll see many names in these series that you might recognize. I had explicit permission from every last one of them to use their characters and persona in this. I also wrote this ... well. years ago. many years ago. I might be forced to 'clean up' some of the text, which i'll be typing from the hard copy as i go. If you catch errors, let me know :)

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Chapter 1: Discovering the Blood of Innocence

 

Silence, but the woods lived with a fury of action. Night had come again, and Maglin found himself in it as he followed the vague map he was able to get. The frightening place had soon become his home of about a week, and he spent much of the time resting playing his flute he had been giving by his mother. He felt wildly free, and moved as fast as his feet ever wanted. He had found himself in a predicament though some time ago when he had run out of the provisions he had arranged for himself. It had taken hunger and a little creativeness for Maglin to make his first snare, and to catch his first game. Today had been different from the last few however. For some reason the life of the forest was dead and quiet, and the feeling was that of danger. Maglin looked around quickly, not wanting to trust anything, and drew his sword slowly. Bringing it to a ready position in front of him, he waited in the clearing where he was camped. Suddenly a yell filled the air, and as it did the birds hidden in the trees took flight, and with them Maglin. He abandoned his camp, and ran, to hide in the tree he had selected for that very purpose earlier. He perched between the twisting branches and looked back to the camp. He watched as a small group of men entered it, their actions showing they were aware there were people nearby. One man standing in the fore turned and motioned to his men. Maglin could barely hear the words spoken, but enough where he could understand them.

“All right. Whoever’s camp this is isn’t here, but will be close by.” He gestured to the fire. “Lets go find him, and see if we can share the camp for the evening.” As the men moved out to find him, Maglin began to wonder if these people were friendly enough to welcome, without making them come look for him. Sighing, and making the first true decision regarding his faith in people, Maglin jumped down from the tree and began to walk toward them. As he did, he could see an odd motion form the other side of his little camp, and immediately he ducked. Suddenly men poured from the trees, and the one that had spoken spun, his sword already drawn and at the ready. The man took one of the new comers in the chest, and quickly looked around, assessing his group. He yelled at the others, who raced back to help, but unawares of another attacker who had started to flank to come up behind, right next to where Maglin had fallen to the brush to hide himself. As he passed, Maglin jumped up from his hiding place and stabbed at the man, catching him firmly along one side of his middle. The apparent leader of the first group of men spun at the sound in time to see Maglin staring at the sword in disbelief and obvious grief. As Maglin started to blank out from the stress, he was dimly aware of the man he had saved stepping forward to stand over him, sword at the ready.

 

Maglin woke to a light breeze that carried the cold of winter with it. Looking around he found himself in a neatly wrapped bundle of blankets. He could hear the sounds of men moving nearby so he turned in the makeshift bed to see a considerable amount of action in his tiny camp. Men had expanded the campsite, clearing brush out and making a hitching post for the horses. Three wagons were lined up nearby, meticulously covered, but clearly packed with goods. The fire was much larger, and so was the pile that was to feed it. Beyond that a string stretched between two trees held small game that was gutted and cleaned, most likely waiting to be cooked. The man who had yelled order sat nearby turned his head to look at Maglin, as if sensing that he was awake.

“Hah! The boy’s awake men!” He chuckled and a few of the others come over. The man adjusted his seat so that he was facing Maglin more comfortably and directly. “So, boy, you’ve a name?”

“Maglin, sir, Maglin—“ Maglin stopped a moment. He had left his father, does that mean he left his name as well… jos’Vinn was his real name, but now… he stopped. “Maglin Vinn, sir.”

The man laughed. “Well Maglin, thanks to your courage, I am shy one sword in my back. What happened exactly?” Maglin saw a few sit down nearby.

Maglin looked at each of them. He didn’t know who they were, but they were friendly. “I left home, sir, took my father’s sword. I wanted to get to the city so that I could be a mercenary.”

He stopped. There was laughter, or rather, a few not so well hidden chuckles. “I had a camp here, and then I heard your voice. I didn’t want to see what was yelling, so I ran and hid. Then when you came here, men came out of the woods and attacked you. I was hiding in the bush-“ he gestured behind himself “and I saw a man come around you. He lifted his sword, as if to charge and strike, so I attacked him.” Maglin thought for a moment. “Is he dead?”

The man’s eye changed their mood as he caught what was bothering the youth. “Yes, the man is dead. Thankfully it was he instead of I, but I would have rather kill him than you.”

Maglin nodded, and noticed a few of the others looking at each other, the situation becoming more clear.

The man spoke again. “It is a shame you had to kill him, but we do things that we do not like in life, that being one of many. My name is Silisn. Silisn Gusitis Captain of the Resid Eagle Mercenaries. You saved my life and for that I must return the favor. You say you wanted to go north, and learn to fight?” Maglin nodded. “Well then, let me make you an offer. Learn to fight with my men and me. After we pack up for the winter and head home to our families, come with me, and I will teach you even more. How bout it?”

Maglin looked at Silisn, as the other men nodded their agreement to the idea. Maglin looked at the man’s outstretched hand, holding an odd sword, as he handed it to him. He looked up at the man, and nodded. “I will join you. I may only be 12 summers old, but I can fight, or at least learn to.”

Silisn sighed, after the tension had been broken. “Then here, it is one of my swords. Your father’s was broken in the fight. Wasn’t worth much, his sword, almost like tin.” He and the others laughed at that. “I will teach you to use this one. It will be easier for you, being that you are younger, and it lighter.” Maglin nodded, and Silisn stood. “Well then that settles that.” He turned to one of his men. “Break camp, prepare the wagons and let’s get on the move. I am sure you felt winter this morning? It is time to go back to our women men.” There was a light cheer as the others stood and made to take down the camp and move out.

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Chapter 2: A new home

 

Night had fallen by the time they urged the horses through the gates at Silisn’s home. A stable boy rushed forward, and grabbed the mounts, bidding his master a good return home. Maglin was started by the presence of the servants, and Silisn noticed.

“Ah, he’s a good one, my stable boy. Surprised he’s here?” The man grinned and ruffled Maglin’s hair. “He’s paid and all, and he doesn’t even live here, he lives with his parents down the way, does that make it better, hmm?”

Maglin looked at Silisn and laughed. “Yeah, I suppose. I am just used to having to do it myself though.”

Silisn shrugged. “Aye, It’s a good thing to exercise your own ability to work, but every now and then we got to be able to relax.”

Maglin smiled, “How relaxed is it around here?”

Silisn looked at Maglin and begun to walk to the big house. “For me, very much so. For you, well, not so much so.”

Maglin looked at him. “How so?”

Silisn laughed again as they mounted the steps together, “Well, lets see. Number one, you can’t even swing that sword like my daughter could when I left, and she’s probably better at it now, or rather, better be better at it now.” He looked at Maglin. “Sorry for your ego, but I think she could probably best you in a even duel.”

Maglin was startled. That was a first, never had Silisn compared and otherwise, well… insulted him before. He shrugged it off, and tried to make a joke of it “What about in an unfair fight?”

Silisn roared with laughter. “Then she would probably be sending you to the healer down the street.”

Maglin glared at him, but didn’t say anything as Silisn opened the heavy oak door to the house, letting the heat from the fire place just inside engulf them, and he step through. As Maglin followed, he gaped at the sight. The anteroom to this house alone was a sight large even that his own living room back home, and definitely richer in adornments. A large painting, with Silisn and a woman, probably his wife, hung from the far wall, under it a long couch padded with what looked like horsehair cushions. Maglin removed the riding cloak he wore, and hung it beside Silisn’s and followed the man in. The floor was stone, and as they walked through the inner door to the main part of the home so were the walls. A woman sat in a large cushioned chair, a needle and thread in her hand, as two younger ladies sat on the floor watching. A fire burned cheerfully and brightly just to the side of them, casting out warmth into the room, making it peaceful and relaxing. Silisn looked at Maglin and motioned him to be quiet like he had taught him on the trail. When the man had opened the door he had done so quietly, obviously to surprise the women. Silisn let out a large exaggerated yawn, and stretched his arms into the air, as the two young ladies spun their heads, and yelled with glee.

Silisn laughed as he caught the two girls when they ran to him and he smiled widely at the older woman who had put down the sewing materials and stood. “Its been a long day my dearest.” She said, walking over. “No, no. its been a long two months. I was imagining that you were probably down in Cairhein getting drunk with all the pretty ladies there.”

Silisn chucked as he put his two daughters down and kissed the woman. “now Witian, you know those ladies down there have blades sharpened than mine they like to play with when a man tries to play with them.”

The woman smiled. “Oh silly, I know that.” She looked at Maglin, as did the two girls. Maglin put his arms behind his back and stood uneasily under their watch. Silisn laughed again as merrily as ever as he introduced Maglin.

“Witian, Nikalea, Kristani, this is Maglin Vinn. He’s the young man that saved my life on the trail on our way back home. Given that he didn’t have a home of his own, and winter was going to catch he before he had any luck, I decided to bring him here. He gave me another chance with my life, and I figured I could give him a room. Not so even, I must say, he’s certainly getting the better deal, but hey, what am I to do?” Witian giggled and slapped Silisn lightly on the arm, and then reached down to Maglin. “I am Witian Gusitis, and these are my daughters.” She looked at the pair expectantly.

Maglin turned to them and watched as one, the eldest, stepped forward. Her youthful face held a promise of mature beauty, her eyes green like the leaves of the woods, and her hair blonde like that of the rays of the sun as they spilled over the edge of clouds. She walked with a court grace, and curtsied gentle in front of him. “I am Nikalea Gusitis.” She stepped aside, after a curtsy, allowing her sister to step forward. The brunette girl did so and curtsied like her sister. “I am Kristani Gusitis.”

Witian grinned proud as she shooed the two girls away. She turned back to Maglin, “Now now. My dearest husband hasn’t been keeping that good a care of you.” She sniffed the air, “Or himself for that matter. I will have the two baths set up right away for you. The guest bedroom is already prepared; perhaps you should take your belongings there? Nikalea will show you the way.” The girl stepped forward, and Witian turned to her husband. “Now you,” she tsk-ed jokingly “I don’t think the great one himself could help you but we shall see what we can do. And you better be telling me the names of all the pretty ladies you saw on your little vacation.” She ended with a not so gentle poke in Silisn’s chest.

Silisn grimaced, “Aye, and where they live, and what time of day they sleep of as well I assume?” he looked at Maglin. ‘Go ahead and follow Nikalea to your room. Get your stuff all unpacked as you like. It shouldn’t be too long before that bath is ready though.

Maglin nodded, looking to Nikalea, who smiled and turned, walking away. “This way Maglin.”

Maglin complied, watching as Silisn walked away himself, to another part of the house.

“Maglin, are you a warrior like my father?” Nikalea asked as she walked down the hall.

Maglin shook his head “No, not yet, Soon though I hope.”

She nodded, without looking at him. “So dad is teaching you how to fight?”

“Yeah, I guess that is what he is going to do. Has he taught you?”

She shook her head. “Some. I can handle a sword but I wouldn’t get into a fight with it.”

Maglin shrugged. “Same here, I got lucky I didn’t get killed. Luck, I think, is the only reason I’m here now.”

“With daddy there, I don’t image it was a matter of luck.” She giggled. ‘He can win most any fight.”

“I know, I watched him fight. Its, it is…”

She stopped and turned to look at him. “Amazing?”

Maglin stopped as well, looking at her. “Yeah. Something like that amazing.”

She giggled, gesturing to her right. “Here’s your room.” She reached won and pulled the door latch on the last door in the hall. The door swung open when she pushed it, and let Maglin past her. He stepped into the room and gasped. This room was more the size of the main room of his old home, and like every other aspect of the house, much nicer. A real mattresses bed sat along the far wall, two windows closed against the cold above it. The floor here was of polished hardwoods, and he could see his face in the wax that covered them. The bed stand sat against he wall, and it had a lantern on it, full of clear rich oil, not the lumpy oil he was used to, and a few books sat on the desk as well. Across from the bed stood a wardrobe and dresser combination. He turned back to Nikalea quickly, “This is my room?”

She could obviously see the surprise on his face and she laughed lightly. “Yep. Its smaller than mine is, but I still say the view from the windows is prettier. I used to come in here and sit on the bed and read, watching out that window over there.” She looked at Maglin. “Now that you’re here I don’t suppose daddy will let me do that anymore though.”

Maglin looked at her intently. “You can read?”

This time she giggled freely. “Oh yes, all of us. You can’t?”

Maglin shook his head, embarrassed and feeling surrounded by somewhere he didn’t belong. “No, my mother could, and she was going to teach me, I think, but she died too soon.”

Nikalea watched him “Your mother is dead?”

Maglin nodded and walked to the window she had pointed to. The view was indeed quite gorgeous. “Yes. She died about 3 summers back.” He looked out over the view, a riding field, a orchard of apple trees, pear and a single cherry tree. Beyond that a considerable woods spanned, a single cart on the path could be seen. He turned to Nikalea. “This is what you would watch hen you were bored?”

She nodded and walked over to the bed, her eyes on the scene outside. “Yeah. My mother can sew pictures like that into her cloth. She sews things never seen before into it… its beautiful.”

Maglin nodded quickly. “My mother used to do the same.” He reached into his pack, pulling out the cloth wrapped over his flute, and handed it to Nikalea.

She gave a slight sound of surprise when she saw the cloth, and did the same when she saw the instrument. “You play this?”

Maglin nodded.

“Can you teach me to?”

Maglin grinned, and reached over to pick up a book off of the table. “IF you can teach me to read.”

She looked at him and smiled “Oh yes, that is fair. I learn to play this and teach you to read. Even daddy would be happy with a trade like that.”

Maglin grinned. “Keep the flute for a while. I find it is the best way to learn by just having it around.”

“Can you play something for me?”

Maglin looked at her, then at the flute. He was no gleeman, sure, but he was confident enough. “Yeah, I guess.” He took the instrument and ran a hand down the holes along it. Sighing as he selected the piece he’d play in his head, he put it to his lips and blew so slightly, the first note he had played since the summer after his mother had passed away. As he thought about her, the note went deeper, and more drawn out. He played along the same scale, notes low and mournful, but then started to climb, until the pitch was quick and notes bright. Nikalea had sat on the bed, and closed her eyes, listening.

“Seems I have a little song bird in my home.” Witian said as she walked through the door, and Nikalea jumped out of the bed, subconsciously straightening her dress as she did so. Maglin was also startled, and made as if to hide the flute.

Witian laughed. “Its quite all right Maglin, I must hear more of it later.”

“It was beautiful wasn’t it mother.”

Witian looked toward her daughter. “Yes, it was my dear. Surprisingly so for such a youth.” She looked at Maglin again, her eyes seeming to dig into him. “Your bath is ready, young man.”

As she turned to leave Nikalea made to follow her but stopped to look at Maglin. He handed her the instrument and the cloth for it, and she started for the door. Maglin himself turned back to the window, and opened it to close the shutters. Looking back to the door, he realized he had no clue where this bath was.

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Chapter 3: Warmth in Knowing

 

Silisn handed Maglin his axe and grinned. “You been warm?”

“Yeah.” Maglin looked at the axe. As an after thought, “Thanks.”

Silisn chuckled. “Ok. There’s a little saying then. A man who cuts his own wood warms himself twice.” He pointed to the cart and the splitting block next to it.

The two of them were at the end of the little path Maglin had seen through his window the day he had arrived. After pulling the cart through the deep snow that had come to them in the winter, they stood with axes as Silisn talked to him.

“All right then. I told you was going to teach you to fight, and that’s what I mean.” He stopped and Maglin watched him. “Now, that axe you’re holding. That is a weapon, if not a sword. Hit has a grip, and it has a blade. It has a technique of use that could be called a swing. Now. We are going to see what we can do to develop your technique and strength this way first.”

Silisn turned and brought the ax overhead, swinging it down with an awesome motion, splitting the piece on the block. He set the blade in a nearby stump, and turned to grab another piece. After setting it on the block, the turned to Maglin. “Your turn.”

Maglin looked at the piece, having done the exercise himself back at his father’s farm. He lifted the ax and brought it down on the piece, but not splitting it. He rocked the blade free again, and split the piece on the second swing.

“Not bad. Two is good enough for this. At least you didn’t give it up. Your form is what disallows you to split it on the first stroke.” He pointed at the rings in the wood, and bent to pick up his own piece. “You see those rings? The wood is the weakest there. Try it again, but along the grain.”

Maglin nodded, and lifted the blade again. As an experiment of his own, he iddn’t even try to power the axe, just aim it and let it fall on the grain. It did, and the two halves fell away.

Silisn smiled, “Well then, Seems like you are already getting into the next part of this little lesson. It doesn’t matter how hard you strike sometimes, only that you do strike, and accurately. “ He through the pieces already split into the back of the cart.

“This isn’t just a little lesson now. Take that grain for instance. It’s a point of attack, much like an archer’s bullseye. Armor, if hit the same way, will give way.” He removed his cloak to reveal that he was wearing leather armor. “This,” he said “is the best example of that. You hit here just below the chest padding, or here, under the armor. If you strike at the straps over the shoulder, the armor just falls off, and is now useless to your opponent. Its your fight after that.”

Maglin made to set his axe in the cart, but Silisn stopped him. “Not just yet. WE have to fill that before we are done here. There’s another block over there, you can work there. With both of it shouldn’t take that long at all.”

 

Maglin sat in front of the fire, watching the flames lick at the wood that had been cut earlier that week. The lessons had continued, and Maglin was now considered a little bit better than a ‘granny with a broom stick’, as Silisn put it. He had not much to do that day, it was as slow as any yet this winter. It only took a moment before he was roaming around the house, and found Nikalea with a book in her hands, sitting by her b ed. He saw the flute nearby and had an idea. He walked over, and sat on the edge of the bed; Nikalea only looked up from her reading, and he picked up the flute. She had taken good care of it. Apparently someone had something to remove the light tarnish from it, and it sparked like a gem he had seen at the fair in town. He admired the cleanliness of it, it had been since his mother was alive that it was last cleaned properly. He looked at it a second more, and placed the flute to his lips. He started again with that single note that set the mood for the entire piece. The note started a tune that he imagined could be heard just about anywhere, but simple enough not to have a name. He started to play another tune, one played at Beltane celebrations, a holiday for the harvest and life in general. The song was common enough on strings, so the flute ended up giving the song a flowing feel. Nikalea looked up, and smiled.

“You have to teach me that.”

Maglin grinned as he set the flute down. “Which would you like to start first? Reading or the playing?”

“Lets start reading first, I can wait to play, you need to be able to read the sooner.”

Maglin nodded. “So, where do we start?”

Nikalea reached into a small drawer next to the bed. She pulled out a slate board, with a small piece of chalk. Maglin had seen the type before, but that was the rich children, down the road from his fathers farm, that had enjoyed that privilege. He looked at it, and shrugged. “So what’s that for?”

“You can’t read without knowing the letters right?”

Maglin shrugged again. “Sure.”

“You’re going to be a rough student, you know that?” She giggled.

With a laugh, Maglin took the slate. “Sure.”

She reached over and grabbed the pillow from the bed and threw it at him. “Enough of that ‘sure’ business.” She said with exaggerated frustration. “Its annoying”

“S- well… OK.”

Nikalea glared at him, but it was obvious she knew he was just poking fun at her. She ‘harrumphed’ and picked up the chalk. She reached over, and wrate a single figure on the board with it. “This is the first letter of the alphabet. It is “A”. go ahead, repeat that.”

Maglin shrugged and did so.

Nikalea pointed to the letter. “It is pronounced ‘ah’ when you are reading. Repeat that.”

Maglin complied. Nikalea took the board back, erased the figure, and drew another. “This letter is the “B”. it is pronounced ‘beh’ when you read, or talk even.” Maglin nodded and repeated both.

Unbeknownst to the two, Witian and Silisn sat in the living space below their room, enjoying the fire and listening to the conversation.

“Hmm, seems like those two have taken a liking to each other, doesn’t it dear?”

Silisn chuckled. “Ah, I love the winter.” He stopped, looking outside. “Well, maybe not really. But it is a great time for love isn’t it Witian?”

His wife glanced at him. “I wouldn’t take it that far. Neither one of them know what that is, so it’s a little hard to assume that’s what’s going on.”

Silisn scoffed. “The boy is 12 or 13 summers old. If not this year, then next. Besides, Nikalea is saving me a whole lot of headache and trouble by teaching him. Means I get to spend more time helping do what I promised him.”

Witian nodded, and put the needle through the cloth she was working on, completing one of the many roses. “I know that you promised him that, but how far is it going to go.”

Silisn looked from the fire to her. “He’s a boy, all the same. I am not going to turn him loose, on a whim. He needs my protection as much as I needed his the day in the woods. I am going to give it to him.”

Witian was silent. She made a few more strokes with the needle, then put it down. “Silisn, I am sorry I never gave you a son.”

Silisn glared at her. “No. you never did, but you did give me our daughters. I can not complain about that.” He looked back to the fire. “I will admit that Maglin however is as close as he can be to being a son to me. I will treat him that way.”

Witian nodded. “And our daughters?”

Silisn looked back to his wife, and took her hand from the armrest into his own. “I will love them as I always have, provide for them as I always have. Never doubt that.”

 

It had been 3 months since Maglin had first sparred with Silisn and at least a month since the snow had melted. Spring had revealed its many glories, and it was a great time. The family had discovered that Maglin’s birthday wasn’t that far from Nikalea’s own, and both of them aged another year in their lives. Now considered to be well on their way to adult hood, their repertoire had changed drastically. Nikalea could now play the basics to the flute, and at the same time Maglin could read the words from the books on his table in the room. Silisn had requested that Nikalea teach Maglin numbers as well, then the mathematics that went with them. Maglin had proved to be a quick student, understanding mostly because of work experience on the farm, dealing with quantities of harvest. Silisn had also begun to teach Maglin the more advanced methods of horseback riding, showing him special things about battle ,regarding formation and methods of advancing and retreating. Maglin soaked the lessons up like a sponge, living off of the stories and experience Silisn had to offer. Life was as if it had never been interrupted by Maglin’s presence. Seemingly, at times, it was almost as if he had always been there, a constant part of the family. The only odd thing was that Kristani had been taken that spring to the Tower in tar valon, because of the Aes Sedai there who inspired her. Other than that, it had been as always, life in the remote Gusitis Estates.

Time passes again, and much is the same, except Maglin was now 17 and a man. Nikalea had perfected her used with the flute, and even performed at the court once in fal dara for the nobles there. Silisn was aging, but it really wasn’t obvious. Maglin had joined him on the quest the last summer, and found that the mix of mercenary and merchant life wasn’t all he thought it would be. Kristani had returned the year prior, revealing herself to be too much of a prankster and ultimately unable to do anything with the power. Her prankish nature turned on Maglin, whom frequently had to watch his every step to avoid something unpleasant. Silisn didn’t mind, and in truth, Maglin believed he encouraged it, part of his training and all. The end of the season had been uneventfully, aside from a fire that broke out in the home, causing Maglin and Silisn to rush and douse the flames. They had since sealed the home back up, but were still working on the roof.

It was Silisn, actually, who attacked Maglin while he was on the ladder, and without a weapon. Maglin, who was now used to such surprise exercises, simply dropped the bag of shingles, aiming for the man below. Silisn stepped curtly out of the way, and Maglin dropped down the ladder to grab his baldric and scabbard, his sword in hand immediately. Silisn was silent as he attacked, pushing Maglin to the absolute limit of all the training of the last 5 years. Maglin returned each attack expertly and adequately, holding Silisn at bay. The fight continued and somewhere during it they knocked the ladder over, alerting Witian and the two ladies inside to come look. They stood by, and watched as Maglin and Silisn spun around and around, each trying to take an upper hand, but neither finding it. Finally, Maglin, who had taken to wearing a new weapon, a long dagger at his side called a Main Gauche, realized he hadn’t been using it. He drew it with his off hand, and begun to use it in supplement to his blade, getting a feel for using both weapons at once. Silisn immediately switched to a heavily defensive style, letting his sword catch both, moving quickly out of reach to make the dagger useless. Both men came to a point where it would be the first mistake that would choose the winner. Maglin tapped his heel, and lunged with the sword, catching Silisn’s with the hilt. Bringing the dagger up, Silisn responded by kicking Maglin in the knee forcing him down, while swinging over hand with his own sword. Maglin brought his two weapons together, catching Silisn’s in the pocket they formed, and pinching it. A moment of awkwardness followed, but Maglin took the initiative, twisting and ripping Silisn’s sword from his grip. That move was followed by a kneeling lunge that resulted with the tip of his blade at Silisn’s throat, and the Gauche at his stomach. Silisn looked down at the two blades, and made the sign of parley. Maglin grinned, and jumped up to the applause of Witian and the daughters.

Silisn himself gave Maglin short applause, and then clapped him on the back. “I was wondering if and when you’d draw that little pig sticker of yours. I saw that you had it, thought I might see how you were with it, apparently not bad.”

Maglin grinned again, and looked over to see that Nikalea had walked over, and was standing nearby. When he looked back to Silisn then older man smile wasn’t hidden. “Yes. Been seeing this coming for a while now. Its is all right with me. Its not as if you two haven’t been enjoying yourselves already as it is. Not only that, it seems that you are as good as I am, and as long as you keep practicing, you will remain that way. If not get better. My daughter needs a protector, and I am starting to get old, believe it or not, and I think I might just have you take up the job.”

Maglin nodded, and turned to Nikalea who was smiling. She looked at him intently, the smile slipping from her face only a moment, and returning again. She reached out to touch the side of his face and hugged him.

Silisn watched as his daughter declared her love without words for Maglin. “There is a problem, however. Maglin, you may be a man of the sword, but you are not one of the dance. I am sending you to the courts of Fal Dara, so that you and Nikalea can both learn how the nobles live life. To help pay for it all, I’ve sold the Resid’s to Guy Du Gasid. I need to focus on supporting you two over there. Don’t be afraid to let me help you, but I know you two can play those instruments like minstrels. Play the same music you dance to, it will do wonders for you.”

Maglin nodded, and turned to Nikalea. “Finally huh?”

She looked up into his eyes. “Yes. Finally.”

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*makes herself comfy on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate and waits for her cameo*

 

oh, this auta be good!

 

 

hehe... i hate to be the harbringer of bad news, but its been a LONG while drea, i think you might not remember exactly. the copy i have, where as you were around, your RP wasn't tangled into mine all that deep. It wasn't until after the conclusion of the story that we started RPing together in earnest, and well... other things. If you'll remember, i was captain general of the scouts when you started your training, actually, and it wasn't until shortly afterwards of this bio that shrike left the band, leaving the spot for me, and then later when odilion stepped down for ehlana, and she promoted me into the assistant commander spot.

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