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"I want something to do."
This remark being addressed to the world in general, no one in particular felt it their duty to reply; so I repeated it to the smaller world about me, received the following suggestions, and settled the matter by answering my own inquiry, as people are apt to do when very much in earnest.
"Write a book," quoth the author of my being.
"Don't know enough, sir. First live, then write."
"Try teaching again," suggested my mother.
"No thank you, ma'am, ten years of that is enough."
"Take a husband like my Darby, and fulfill your mission," said sister Joan, home on a visit.
"Can't afford expensive luxuries, Mrs. Coobiddy."
"Turn actress, and immortalize your name," said sister Vashti, striking an attitude.
"Go nurse the soldiers," said my young brother, Tom, panting for "the tented field."
So far, very good. Here was the will--now for the way. At first sight not a foot of it appeared, but that didn't matter, for the Periwinkles are a hopeful race; their crest is an anchor, with three cock-a-doodles crowing atop.
They all wear rose-colored spectacles, and are lineal descendants of the inventor of aerial architecture. An hour's conversation on the subject set the whole family in a blaze of enthusiasm. A model hospital was erected, and each member had accepted an honorable post therein.
The paternal P. was chaplain, the maternal P. was matron, and all the youthful P.s filled the pod of futurity with achievements whose brilliancy eclipsed the glories of the present and the past. Arriving at this satisfactory conclusion, themeeting adjourned, and the fact that Miss Tribulation was available as army nurse went abroad on the wings of the wind.
In a few days a townswoman heard of my desire, approved of it, and brought about an interview with one of the sisterhood which I wished to join, who was at home on a furlough, and able and willing to satisfy all inquiries. A morning chat with Miss General S.--We hear no end of Mrs. Generals, why not a Miss?--Produced three results: I felt that I could do the work, was offered a place, and accepted it, promising not to desert, but stand ready to march on Washington at an hour's notice.
A few days were necessary for the letter containing my request and recommendation to reach headquarters, and another, containing my commission, to return; therefore no time was to be lost; and heartily thanking my pair of friends, I tore home through the December slush as if the rebels were after me, and like many another recruit, burst in upon my family with the announcement--
An impressive silence followed. Tom, the irrepressible, broke it with a slap on the shoulder and the graceful compliment--
"Old Trib, you're a trump!"
"Thank you; then I'll take something:" which I did, in the shape of dinner, reeling off my news at the rate of three dozen words to a mouthful; and as every one else talked equally fast, and all together, the scene was most inspiring.
As boys going to sea immediately become nautical in speech, walk as if they already had their "sea legs" on, and shiver their timbers on all possible occasions, so I turned military at once, called my dinner my rations, saluted all new comers, and ordered a dress parade that very afternoon.
Having reviewed every rag I possessed, I detailed some for picket duty while airing over the fence; some to the sanitary influences of the washtub; others to mount guard in the trunk; while the weak and wounded went to the Work-basket Hospital, to be made ready for active service again. To this squad I devoted myself for a week; but all was done, and I had time to get powerfully impatient before the letter came.
It did arrive however, and brought a disappointment along with its good will and friendliness, for it told me that the place in the Armory Hospital that I supposed I was to take, was already filled, and a much less desirable one at Hurly-burly House was offered instead.
"That's just your luck, Trib. I'll tote your trunk up garret for you again; for of course you won't go," Tom remarked, with the disdainful pity which small boys affect when they get into their teens. I was wavering in my secret soul, but that settled the matter, and I crushed him on the spot with martial brevity--
"It is now one; I shall march at six."
I have a confused recollection of spending the afternoon in pervading the house like an executive whirlwind, with my family swarming after me, all working, talking, prophesying and lamenting, while I packed my "go-abroady" possessions, tumbled the rest into two big boxes, danced on the lids till they shut, and gave them in charge, with the direction,--
"If I never come back, make a bonfire of them."
Then I choked down a cup of tea, generously salted instead of sugared, by some agitated relative, shouldered my knapsack--it was only a traveling bag, but do let me preserve the unities--hugged my family three times all round without a vestige of unmanly emotion, till a certain dear old lady broke down upon my neck, with a despairing sort of wail--
"Oh, my dear, my dear, how can I let you go?"
"I'll stay if you say so, mother."
"But I don't; go, and the Lord will take care of you."
Much of the Roman matron's courage had gone into the Yankee matron's composition, and, in spite of her tears, she would have sent ten sons to the war, had she possessed them, as freely as she sent one daughter, smiling and flapping on the doorstep till I vanished, though the eyes that followed me were very dim, and the handkerchief she waved was very wet.
My transit from The Gables to the village depot was a funny mixture of good wishes and good-byes, mud-puddles and shopping. A December twilight is not the most cheering time to enter upon a somewhat perilous enterprise, and, but for the presence of Vashti and neighbor Thorn, I fear that I might have added a drop of the briny to the native moisture of--
"The town I left behind me;"
though I'd no thought of giving out: oh, bless you, no! When the engine screeched "Here we are," I clutched my escort in a fervent embrace, and skipped into the car with as blithe a farewell as if going on a bridal tour--though I believe brides don't usually wear cavernous black bonnets and fuzzy brown coats, with a hairbrush, a pair of rubbers, two books, and a bag of gingerbread distorting the pockets of the same.
If I thought that any one would believe it, I'd boldly state that I slept from C. to B., which would simplify matters immensely; but as I know they wouldn't, I'll confess that the head under the funereal coal-hod fermented with all manner of high thoughts and heroic purposes "to do or die,"--perhaps both; and the heart under the fuzzy brown coat felt very tender with the memory of the dear old lady, probably sobbing over her army socks and the loss of her topsy-turvy Trib.
At this juncture I took the veil, and what I did behind it is nobody's business; but I maintain that the soldier who cries when his mother says "Good-bye," is the boy to fight best, and die bravest, when the time comes, or go back to her better than he went.
Till nine o'clock I trotted about the city streets, doing those last errands which no woman would even go to heaven without attempting, if she could. Then I went to my usual refuge, and, fully intending to keep awake, as a sort of vigil appropriate to the occasion, fell fast asleep and dreamed propitious dreams till my rosy-faced cousin waked me with a kiss.
A bright day smiled upon my enterprise, and at ten I reported myself to my General, received last instructions and no end of the sympathetic encouragement which women give, in look, touch, and tone more effectually than in words. The next step was to get a free pass to Washington, for I'd no desire to waste my substance on railroad companies when "the boys" needed even a spinster's mite.
A friend of mine had procured such a pass, and I was bent on doing likewise, though I had to face the president of the railroad to accomplish it. I'm a bashful individual, though I can't get any one to believe it; so it cost me a great effort to poke about the Worcester depot till the right door appeared, then walk into a room containing several gentlemen, and blunder out my request in a high state of stammer and blush.
Nothing could have been more courteous than this dreaded President, but it was evident that I had made as absurd a demand as if I had asked for the nose off his respectable face. He referred me to the Governor at the State House, and I backed out, leaving him no doubt to regret that such mild maniacs were left at large. Here was a Scylla and Charybdis business: as if a President wasn't trying enough, without the Governor of Massachusetts and the hub of the hub piled on top of that.
I never can do it, thought I. Tom will hoot at you if you don't, whispered the inconvenient little voice that is always goading people to the performance of disagreeable duties, and always appeals to the most effective agent to produce the proper result. The idea of allowing any boy that ever wore a felt basin and a shoddy jacket with a microscopic tail, to crow over me, was preposterous, so giving myself a mental slap for such faintheartedness, I streamed away across the Common, wondering if I ought to say "your Honor," or simply "Sir," and decided upon the latter, fortifying myself with recollections of an evening in a charming green library, where I beheld the Governor placidly consuming oysters, and laughing as if Massachusetts was a myth, and he had no heavier burden on his shoulders than his host's handsome hands.
Like an energetic fly in a very large cobweb, I struggled through the State House, getting into all the wrong rooms and none of the right, till I turned desperate, and went into one, resolving not to come out till I'd made somebody hear and answer me.
I suspect that of all the wrong places I had blundered into, this was the most so. But I didn't care; and, though the apartment was full of soldiers, surgeons, starers, and spittoons, I cornered a perfectly incapable person, and proceeded to pump for information with the following result:
"Was the Governor anywhere about?"
No, he wasn't.
"Could he tell me where to look?"
No, he couldn't.
"Did he know anything about free passes?"
No, he didn't.
"Was there any one there of whom I could inquire?"
Not a person.
"Did he know of any place where information could be obtained?"
Not a place.
"Could he throw the smallest gleam of light upon the matter, in any way?"
Not a ray.
I am naturally irascible, and if I could have shaken this negative gentleman vigorously, the relief would have been immense. The prejudices of society forbidding this mode of redress, I merely glowered at him; and, before my wrath found vent in words, my General appeared, having seen me from an opposite window, and come to know what I was about. At her command the languid gentleman woke up, and troubled himself to remember that Major or Sergeant or something Mc K. knew all about the tickets, and his office was in Milk Street. I perked up instanter, and then, as if the exertion was too much for him, what did this animated wet blanket do but add--
"I think Mc K. may have left Milk Street, now, and I don't know where he has gone."
"Never mind; the new comers will know where he has moved to, my dear, so don't be discouraged; and if you don't succeed, come to me, and we will see what to do next," said my General.
I blessed her in a fervent manner and a cool hall, fluttered round the corner, and bore down upon Milk Street, bent on discovering Mc K. if such a being was to be found. He wasn't, and the ignorance of the neighborhood was really pitiable. Nobody knew anything, and after tumbling over bundles of leather, bumping against big boxes, being nearly annihilated by descending bales, and sworn at by aggravated truckmen, I finally elicited the advice to look for Mc K. in Haymarket Square.
Who my informant was I've really forgotten; for, having hailed several busy gentlemen, some one of them fabricated this delusive quietus for the perturbed spirit, who instantly departed to the sequestered locality he named. If I had been in search of the Koh-i-noor diamond I should have been as likely to find it there as any vestige of Mc K.
I stared at signs, inquired in shops, invaded an eating house, visited the recruiting tent in the middle of the Square, made myself a nuisance generally, and accumulated mud enough to retard another Nile. All in vain: and I mournfully turned my face toward the General's, feeling that I should be forced to enrich the railroad company after all; when, suddenly, I beheld that admirable young man, brother-in-law Darby Coobiddy, Esq. I arrested him with a burst of news, and wants, and woes, which caused his manly countenance to lose its usual repose.
"Oh, my dear boy, I'm going to Washington at five, and I can't find the free ticket man, and there won't be time to see Joan, and I'm so tired and cross I don't know what to do; and will you help me, like a cherub as you are?"
"Oh, yes, of course. I know a fellow who will set us right," responded Darby, mildly excited, and darting into some kind of an office, held counsel with an invisible angel, who sent him out radiant. "All serene. I've got him. I'll see you through the business, and then get Joan from the Dove Cote in time to see you off."
I'm a woman's rights woman, and if any man had offered help in the morning, I should have condescendingly refused it, sure that I could do everything as well, if not better, myself. My strong-mindedness had rather abated since then, and I was now quite ready to be a "timid trembler," if necessary.
Dear me! How easily Darby did it all: he just asked one question, received an answer, tucked me under his arm, and in ten minutes I stood in the presence of Mc K., the Desired.
"Now my troubles are over," thought I, and as usual was direfully mistaken.
"You will have to get a pass from Dr. H., in Temple Place, before I can give you a pass, madam," answered Mc K., as blandly as if he wasn't carrying desolation to my soul. Oh, indeed! Why didn't he send me to Dorchester Heights, India Wharf, or Bunker Hill Monument, and done with it? Here I was, after a morning's tramp, down in some place about Dock Square, and was told to step to Temple Place. Nor was that all; he might as well have asked me to catch a hummingbird, toast a salamander, or call on the man in the moon, as find a Doctor at home at the busiest hour of the day.
It was a blow; but weariness had extinguished enthusiasm, and resignation clothed me as a garment. I sent Darby for Joan, and doggedly paddled off, feeling that mud was my native element, and quite sure that the evening papers would announce the appearance of the Wandering Jew, in feminine dress.
"Is Dr. H. in?"
"No, mum, he ain't."
Of course he wasn't; I knew that before I asked: and, considering it all in the light of a hollow mockery, added:
"When will he probably return?"
If the damsel had said, "ten tonight," I should have felt a grim satisfaction, in the fulfillment of my own dark prophecy; but she said, "At two, mum;" and I felt it a personal insult.
"I'll call, then. Tell him my business is important:" with which mysteriously delivered message I departed, hoping that I left her consumed with curiosity; for mud rendered me an object of interest.
By way of resting myself, I crossed the Common, for the third time, bespoke the carriage, got some lunch, packed my purchases, smoothed my plumage, and was back again, as the clock struck two.
The Doctor hadn't come yet; and I was morally certain that he would not, till, having waited till the last minute, I was driven to buy a ticket, and, five minutes after the irrevocable deed was done, he would be at my service, with all manner of helpful documents and directions.
Everything goes by contraries with me; so, having made up my mind to be disappointed, of course I wasn't; for, presently, in walked Dr. H., and no sooner had he heard my errand, and glanced at my credentials, than he said, with the most engaging readiness:
"I will give you the order, with pleasure, madam."
Words cannot express how soothing and delightful it was to find, at last, somebody who could do what I wanted, without sending me from Dan to Beersheba, for a dozen other to do something else first. Peace descended, like oil, upon the ruffled waters of my being, as I sat listening to the busy scratch of his pen; and, when he turned about, giving me not only the order, but a paper of directions wherewith to smooth away all difficulties between Boston and Washington, I felt as did poor Christian when the Evangelist gave him the scroll, on the safe side of the Slough of Despond.
I've no doubt many dismal nurses have inflicted themselves upon the worthy gentleman since then; but I am sure none have been more kindly helped, or are more grateful, than T. P.; for that short interview added another to the many pleasant associations that already surround his name.
Feeling myself no longer a "Martha Struggles," but a comfortable young woman, with plain sailing before her, and the worst of the voyage well over, I once more presented myself to the valuable Mc K. The order was read, and certain printed papers, necessary to be filled out, were given a young gentleman--no, I prefer to say Boy, with a scornful emphasis upon the word, as the only means of revenge now left me. This Boy, instead of doing his duty with the diligence so charming in the young, loitered and lounged, in a manner which proved his education to have been sadly neglected in the--
"How doth the little busy bee,"
direction. He stared at me, gaped out of the window, ate peanuts, and gossiped with his neighbors--Boys, like himself, and all penned in a row, like colts at a Cattle Show. I don't imagine he knew the anguish he was inflicting; for it was nearly three, the train left at five, and I had my ticket to get, my dinner to eat, my blessed sister to see, and the depot to reach, if I didn't die of apoplexy. Meanwhile, Patience certainly had her perfect work that day, and I hope she enjoyed the job more than I did.
Having waited some twenty minutes, it pleased this reprehensible Boy to make various marks and blots on my documents, toss them to a venerable creature of sixteen, who delivered them to me with such paternal directions, that it only needed a pat on the head and an encouraging--"Now run home to your ma, little girl, and mind the crossings, my dear," to make the illusion quite perfect.
Why I was sent to a steamboat office for car tickets, is not for me to say, though I went as meekly as I should have gone to the Probate Court, if sent. A fat, easy gentleman gave me several bits of paper, with coupons attached, with a warning not to separate them, which instantly inspired me with a yearning to pluck them apart, and see what came of it. But, remembering through what fear and tribulation I had obtained them, I curbed Satan's promptings, and, clutching my prize, as if it were my pass to the Elysian Fields, I hurried home.
Dinner was rapidly consumed; Joan enlightened, comforted, and kissed; the dearest of apple-faced cousins hugged; the kindest of apple-faced cousins' fathers subjected to the same process; and I mounted the ambulance, baggage-wagon, or anything you please but hack, and drove away, too tired to feel excited, sorry, or glad.
Introduction: Louisa May
Alcott's Civil War
The Alcott Family
The Struggle for Work
Alcott's Early Literary Career
The Coming of War
Becoming a Nurse
Battle of Fredericksburg
Hospital Life and Medical Care
The Creation of Hospital Sketches
Alcott's Literary Style
Claiming a Place for Women in the War Effort
The Social Landscape of the Hospital
Hospital Sketches and the Meaning of the Civil War
Hospital Sketches, by Louisa May Alcott
I. Obtaining Supplies
II. A Forward Movement
III. A Day
IV. A Night
V. Off Duty
VI. A Postscript
Chronology of Louisa
May Alcott's Life
Questions for Consideration
Posted July 10, 2012
Posted July 25, 2014
"Shh! Someone's coming!" I hiss to the boy standing in front of me. I jump into the air and continue up, landing silently in a tree as a scruffy man walked to where l had been hovering just seconds before. <p>
"I'm tellin' ye, boy. Ye needa stop runnin' off!" <p>
"Yes, Uncle Josia." <p>
"Do l catch a whiff o' fairy?" <p>
My breath caught in my lungs as those words were spoken. 'Please don't find me, please don't find me!' I prayed. <p>
"I just scared one off, Sir." <p>
l slowly let out my breath. <p>
"Sonny, somethin' else is here." <p>
"What do you mean?" <p>
Josia and the boy whom l had been meeting walked off. I waited and then nimbly leapt out of the tree. I soared through the air to an isolated clearing. <br><br><br><br><br><br>
"Psst! Pssst!" I lifted my head and zipped through the forest. Seeing him there, with tussled brown hair, l smiled and rest my wings as l ran into his arms. I buried my head in his chest, and breathed in the scent of pine needles. <p>
I yelped and jerked back as my ankles began to burn. I tripped and fell, and hazel eyes gazed down at me in horror. Josia came from behind him and pulled him away from me. "Caught in the act!" He growled. <p>
Strong hands grabbed my hands and l screamed as the iron burned my wrists. An iron collar was buckled around my neck and an iron voice-blocker was placed around my head, freezing my mouth. I struggled, and saw the pain on his face. I was picked up and tossed in a wagon. <br><br><br><br><br><br>
l woke up to a very uncomfortable feeling. I sat up and iron scalded my neck. I nearly screamed in pain, but was unable to. Then, l realized what had happened. The door to the cell was opened and he stepped in, holding his sword. Josia was in the background, watching. "Remember, traitor, unless you kill the beast, you will be killed." <p>
My violet eyes flashed, and he solemnly looked into them. 'I'm sorry...' They seemed to apoligize. Then a ruthless, guarded look passed over and covered his face. He took the voice blocker and one of my multiple, newly aquirred collars. <p>
He raised his sword above his head, and it peirced what remained of the heart he stole so very graciously. <p>
l sucked in one last breath, and whispered four final words. <p>
"l love you, Jonathon."
Posted July 24, 2014
I hear sharp noises around me, and slowly I force my eyes open. Dust rises around me, and I see silver and black bodies everywhere, and the quick movements of the ones still alive. Blood flows over my eyes, and I feebly lift my hand to my head, immediately covering it in blood. "Da<_>mn it," I say as I realize how bad the wound is. I wipe the blood from my eyes and spot my arrow not but three feet away. I scramble frantically for it, and my fingers curl around its beautiful silvery bough. I go to pull it back when a black foot comes down on my hand. I writhe in anguish, and look up to see the boy standing above me, an arrow sticking out of his other leg where I had purposely shot him.
"That," he sneered, "was for shooting me." He lifted the club he'd had when I shot him. "And this," he said as he raised it over his head, "is for Staland!"
The club was coming down quickly, so without thinking, I grasped his other leg with my free hand, sending him tumbling backwards, freeing my bow and my now black and blue hand. I grabbed my bow and leaped to my feet, walking towards him. I yanked the arrow from his leg and ignored his screams of pain as I drew back the string. "I should've shot to kill in the first place," I said as I released, striking him dead in the heart. I left my arrow in his chest; it had done its work; and found another on the ground. I scanned the crowd for Gabriel, and spotted him, fighting off a circle of black suited men professionally.
I drew back my string. This was the dreaded moment; the moment where I must put aside my feelings to save two kingdoms who would slaughter each other otherwise. Gabriel stumbled a bit to the right when he fought off his last attacker, and a well built man in a silver and black suit came up behind him sneering. I recognized him instantly. Unfortunately so did everybody else in the fray of the fight.
"Tamal," I muttered under my breath. No wonder he never fought. He secretly became leader of both kingdoms. Everyone around me stopped fighting to watch Tamal and Gabriel. Tamal held two staffs in hand. "This has to be done, my boy," he said, cackling. I couldn't shoot now; everyone would notice. I spied the tree behind us and slipped away, stealthily scaling the tree until I was well hidden from everyone.
I drew back my string. I had to be precise. My arrow moved with my target, but I had to wait for the right moment, or I would kill the wrong person. Silver and black flurried around as the two battled it out, and I drew my string back even farther, aiming to kill. They paused for a moment, and that was my chance. I let go, and the arrow flew out of the tree like a frightened bird, and hit its target dead in the heart...
I smiled as I walked down the hall, my teal dress flowing behind me. I adjusted my silver crown, and took Gabriel's hand. He smiled and kissed me on the forehead, blue eyes beaming.
He had become king after his father died; "A stray arrow..." they said when they told how it happened. Gabriel was heir to the throne, and is now king over both Magina and Staland.
"I wouldn't rather have anybody else be my queen," he whispered as he lifted his lips away. His hand rubbed my belly, where a tiny bump was forming from our baby due next year. I smiled. "And I wouldny rather be anybody elses queen," I said as i kissed him back. We came to doors, and theh were opened. We smiled, and walked into our coronation together...
THE END ~ Gwen
Posted July 23, 2014
"My name is Snowtronz, what is yours?" He asked before gliding away. <br> <br> Flameala was about to respond, but the dragon flew away to quickly. She had a chance to kill him, but didn't. But couldn't. <br> She clenched her gas sacks and rubbed her iron teeth, sending an uncomfortable feeling through her throat as fire burst out, blazing down a swarm of darkness pixies. She flew forth, slashing at a shadow dragon's muzzle. The shadow dragon breathes his toxic plume of black gas on her and she blazes it in a fury of a blast, killing him using his own attack. <br> She then trekked onward toward a fire lion and shadow lion fighting. The fire lion whisked lava from his tail. The shadow lion dodged and hurled an eclipse sun at the fire lion, where he was sucked in and his soul remained on the plane of excistence, it had not been sent to the magic. <br> It is barbaric to do something like that. But, of course, Moonrar didn't care. <br> She flew on, coming up to Snowtronz. <br> "Oh, hello." He said while freezing a sun leapoard. <br> "Ugh. You again." She says, trying to offend him. <br> "Why thank you! I love compliments so much!" He knew her trick. "So, have you remembered your name." She hadn't forgotten. <br> "I'm Flameala," she snorted, flying away into the blaze of flame and frost and shadow and light. <br> <br> LATER... <br> <br> She flew into Magma City, preparing to land. A black dragon burst out of the landing post and shoved her into a large black bag. He pulled her into the landing post, in an underground tunnel. Snowtronz looked at her. <br> "Sorry, Flameala." He said, but she did not trust him. <br> She shot him a look of hatred. <br> "We need you to rule all the kingdoms." Said the black dragon evilly. <br> "And you need to mate with Snowtronz, him." Said a dragon of her own kind, pointing at the icy snow dragon. <br> "Yeup." He said, coming closer. "A little privacy?" Flameala's scales heated up to burning. Even with true love, a forced mate is lawbreaking. They would have to be able to keep her captive if he did this to her. Her scales now started to build up small fires. The other dragons left the room. <br> Snowtronz nudged closer and secured the latch on her mouth, she could not blast his face off with fire. He pinned her down. Now her scales were burning, but he was growing icicle armor across his. She could not manage enough energy to throw him off, without a unicorn to aid her. She looked around for the glistening of a unicorn, there would have to be one, because dragons cannot survive without them. <br> There it was. The silvery mane lifted up and sensed her need. <br> "Tut, tut. Silvyr, no." Snowtronz hissed. Unicorns were often kept as personal pets to dragons, but Flameala believed sentient creatures alike should live in harmony. She hissed through the hinge and tried to push him off, going unconscious from energy loss. <br> <br> THE NEXT DAY... <br> <br> She was in a prison of darkness, surrounded by a void, sucking out her life, her soul, her spirit, her world. She was violated and will be imprisoned, nevermore. That is how it all works, if any of the tribes report a forcemating, the king of the tribe will personally kill them in public. So the violater(s) must keep her locked up forever. Nevermore. <br> She then remembered her companion, Evermore. He was her unicorn. She sent out despret cries for Evermore. <br> Unicorns and dragons have a telepathitic conection. <br> Her awnser was: *Where?*Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted July 23, 2014
The cold autumn breeze buffeted the soldiers in their silver jumpsuits lining the field, waiting for their opponent to dare show their faces. Each had a weapon, some staffs, others bows and arrows, maces, and swords as well. In the middle stands Gabriel, his blue eyes scanning the field, staff in hand. I am position right behind him, bow drawn and arrows ready, and Sam is to my left, nunchucks in hand. And behind us, the whole army of Magina, each warrior specializing in one type of battle. I am tense, heart racing, as I look for the black formation that should be across from us; the Staland clan colour is black while ours is silver.
I scan the field, looking for movement where none can be found. Not even the birds dare to fly in these winds. My cheeks are chapping when I notice a rustle in a tree not far off. Gabriel nods, and I silently lift my bow and draw the string and arrow back. My two fingers release the string, and the arrow flies by Gabriel's head and right into the spot where the rustle occurred. I wait...
Three and a black mass falls from the tree where my arrow dissapeared. I never miss. I quickly take another arrow from my sheath and reload as a battle cry erupts from the far side of the field. Gabriel motions for all of us to stand and points his staff in their direction. "Attack!" He yells, and we are now like a lion on the prowl, running towards it's prey so that we might demolish it. Black figures begin to advance towards us, and I fire my arrow at a young man in a black jumpsuit, hitting him right between his green eyes. The battle field is now a flurry of black and silver colliding, and I yank my arrow from the mans head, and quickly turn around, gouging an older blonde haired woman holding a knife in the thigh, and then yank her knife from her hand. With a swift movement, blood is pouring from her chest, and she keels over, likely to never rise again.
I then yank the arrow out of her and draw it again, hitting a pale brown haired man who was overpowering Sam. Sam nods in his gratitude and turns around, striking two well built soldiers with his nunchucks. I see Gabriel fighting off three men to my right, and my heart swells at what I must do.
In the next instant im on the ground, caught off guard by a scrawny red haired girl with a sword. The hungry gleam in her eyes shows no mercy, and like the rest of us, she was trained to kill or be killed. Her sword is thrust down on me, only to be blocked by an arrow I had swiftly grabbed from my sheath. I shove her upwards, knocking her off balance, and kick her over while getting up. I take her sword and hold it over my head, and bring it down upon her. I quickly grab the bow that I had dropped and my arrows and fired one at a big man with a staff advancing towards me. Behind him was a young boy, no older than 14, holding a club, fear in his eyes. My heart broke as I drew my arrow and shot him. I turned so I wouldnt watch him fall, a tear running down my cheek. I looked up and saw Gabriel. This has to end. I have to do it now.
I step over bodies in silver and bodies in black, all one, all dead now, and make sure he is fighting and he can't see what I am about to do. I draw my arrow and aim for his heart, following it until he stops moving. As I go to release, something hits me hard in my head, and the arrow fires, hitting the ground beside him as my world went black...
Part three will come out in a bit:) ~ Gwendolyn
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