Don't ask why I called it Fairy Operation but I did; it's just a temporary title.
This story is a fantasy romance, containing Magic, mythical people, and magical artifacts. I hope to finish this story, well book, by the end of 2006. I cannot garrentee it, but will do what I can. Any input on the part of readers around the world will be appriciated.
Some symbols used in this story may be confusing, so I'll explain what they will be used for.
"Quotations are pretty obvious, dialouge."
Words in Italics are thoughts.
-word enclosed by dashes are sounds that a character or characters may hear in the course of the story.-
Thank you very much,
CG
A copper-haired girl watched the dreary weather outside her window, rain cascading down the window in sheets. Wiry curls framed her morose face, it as dreary as the weather she watched. The rain usually had a calming effect on her, all storms did, but she was as jumpy as a jack rabbit this night. Something was amiss and the girl could feel it.
Something thudded heavily against the back door startling Krissandra McAndry out of her dream-like state. She stared at the door, afraid to open it. She had seen no one pass the window in which she sat. -THUD- There it was again, softer though, but still there. Krissandra just stared at the door knowing what could be on the other side. Then she heard it; a call barely above the thunder and wind, a faint call for help. She couldn't believe her ears. Who would be ot on a night like this? There it was again, a soft plea for help that faded into the storm. Krissandra flung herself out of the window seat and ran to the door. She would face what was there to help the person in need. She threw the locks, switched on the porch light, and stepped into the rain.
The light cast a weak circle that showed a person laying on the steps. It was a young man, his hair and face streaked with mud. His eyes were fluttering in the rain and his long hair was an indistinguishable color under all the mud. She suspected he was probably handsome under all that, but she couldn't be sure. She was sure that he would catch a dreadful cold, if he didn't have one already. Krissandra crouched to pull him into the house and paused when the wind died down. Something was wrong.
Her bare feet rested in water draining onto the ground. Her magic, that with nature, told her that someone was coming and had evil intentions. Then she saw him, the rain running off him, not daring to stick. She didn't like the look of him or the sound of him when he spoke.
"Give me the boy." His voice was low and sinister. Krissandra wouldn't have heard him had the wind still been blowing. Everything about him said bad and evil. He stepped closer, into the light of the doorway and porcg. "Give me the boy." he repeated.
"Why?" Krissandra asked, narrowing her eyes. "Of what iportance is he to you that you cometracking him, ready to kill? Is he such a danger thatyou come to kill him? He is one of goodness, while your heart is fillled with hatred and death. He is innocent compared to you and your wicked heart. I'd be just as likely to give you myself as give tyou him. Now be gone and ask for him no more."
"You will regret your decision sooner or later, sooner rather. He is not as innocent as you may believe. Heed my warning and take my lesson well." The man in black moved still closer to her, pulling a long, thin blade from his coat.
Krissandra swung her left arm in an arc over her body. Normally this would have left her torso open for attack, but se was not normal. Krissandra's power kicked in and rain pounded on the man, driving him back. He tried to slash at her but was forced to drop the blade. The man glared at er, as if saying the battle was not over, and disappeared into the darkness. Krissandra sighed heavily and released the rain to pur down on them. She raised her face to the sky and enjoyed the icy wetness.
The young man stirred next to her, his hand coming to rest in her open hand. She never would have noticed had his hand been warm nor the slight squeeze he gave the hand, but his hands were ice cold. Both of them were soaking wet, him even more so. Krissandra gently dragged the boy into the kitchen, where he promptly tried to cover his eyes. She shut off the light and stepped back into the rain. The knife the man had dropped lay in a puddle, repelling the water from it. Krissandra hefted it and left the rain once more.
The moment she stepped into the kitchen, with the knife in hand, the youth, which she had rescued, began to writhe in unseen pain. Krissasndra stepped sloser and his writhing changed to kicking and near screaming. She stepped back and he reverted to his former actions. She wondered where she could possibly set the blade so that she could help him. The only open places were the table, four feet beyond his head, and the counter, a foot to the left of the table. Either way she would have to bypass him to get it there--or would she? Her knife throwing skills wern't the best, ut the could work in a pinch.
Krissandra gripped the end of the blade and aimed for the wall. She drew her had back and let it fly. She closed her eyes and prayed it would stick; she listened for a sound that never came. Slowly she opened her eyes and saw an incredible feat. The blade, a foot of sharp steel, had soundlessly sanl up to hits hilt in the wood. Krissandra was in awe of her throw, but was shaken out of her stupor when the young man boounced off the floor and then remained still. She watched him, waiting to see if he would seize again. He didn't and Krissandra dropped to her knees besided him. She placed her hands on her shoulders to wake him and felt him shivering.
Darn it! I forgot he was wet. Krissandra cursed herself. She quickly ran down the hall to the, removed a heavy blanket, and laid it beside him. She wrapped her arms around him and prepared for a heavy lift; she almost fell over when she exerted too much force . Wow! He's so light and--and delicate, I guess . Krissandra had various thoughts running through her mond as she wrapped the blanket around him and lifted her unknowing rescuee. She bore him out of the kitchen and upstairs to the guestroom. Krissandra gently laid him on the bed and fetched a bowl of warm water and a washcloth.
Krissandra placed her cleaning supplies on the night stand, then pulled back the blanket. He was still cold, but not icy, as he had been a little but ago. She took the washcloth and dipped it in the water, wringing it thoroughly. As gently as possible, Krissandra cleaned the young man's face, gingerly touching the bruise forming at his left temple. The girl liked what she revealed, a light borwn face with a dusting of freckles and a slightly upturned mouth; he was apparently enjoying this too.
Krissandra's mind argued over her next option: remove his shirt and take care of any wounds or leave it and possibly kill him. Her reasonable side won and she began to strip her patient of his shirt. When it was tossed into a pile on the floor, Krissandra took a good look at what was before her, tan, muscled skin and a pair of gashes crossing his midsection. They were shallow but long and wide and already were becoming infected. They ran hormizontally across his stomach. she changed the water and began again. Cleaning around the wounds was easily done compared to the wounds themselves.
Bareky had she touvhed them when the boy sat yo, then lay back down again. His eyes were open and, thoug she was scared, Krissandra couldn't help but stare at him. His peaceful face was gone, replaceed by a mask of pain and shock. The eyes drew her the attention the most. His eyes were wide on his now clean face, wide and silver. He stared at her even as she gazed back. His mind was working quickly, Krissandra could see, working on what she could not guess. Krissndra dipped the cloth in the water again and, as she turned back, the young man tried to roll away.
Krissandra gently laid an hand on his bare arm and told him softly, "Don't even try it. I've already saved you once and am in the process of caring for you. So be still. Talk, if you can, or jus lay thereand watc, or go back to sleep for all I care. Can you tell me your name? So I don't have to call you boy or young man."
The young man debated with himself before anwsering her. "My name id Zachary, but you can call me Zach." Zach let out an ear-splitting yawn. "What's yours, oh rescuer of mine?"
Krissandra, athough I'd prefer Kriss. Go to sleep, you look so tired. I should be done when you awake." Zach nodded before yawning and slipping into sleep. Krissandra, or Kriss now, studied his sleeping face onve more as if looking for the innocence she claimed he had. She thought she found it in his peaceful slumber and returned to work.
Zach woke several hours later to find Kriss, with bandages in hand, staring at him. She blushed deep pink when he caught her.
"Stand up and raise your arms," she asked him, frustrated.
He obeyed as a smile spred across his face and let the girl wrap the bandages around his mid-section.
At first Zach thought Kriss's hands were soft, gentle, and sure; however, he soon realized they were acctually stiff, chapped, and clumsy. When she came around front of him, after checking the layers of material, he took up her hands in his own. He felt the many cracks and cuts around the edges and the stiffness of her fingers when she tried to pull away.
Zach gently squeezed her hands and raised his face to hers. "None of that, now. You cared for me, let me care for you in return." He looked back to their hands and nearly dropped them like hot coals; blood stained her hands and oozed onto his skin. As he turned them over and studied them this way and that, Zach demanded an anwser, something he rarely did. "How long has it been since you began to care for me?"
"Um..." was the reply.
"Damn it, Krissandra! How long?" he nearly yelled this time, another thing not often done. Zach stopped moving her hands and glared at her, still waiting. Shock, fear, and mistrust met him. "Krissandra, Kriss, please forgive me. I-I didn't mean to yell. Why are you so scared of me?" Krissandra only shook her head, eyes wide in fear.
She was mumbling something and Zach caught only snatches of what she said. "...regret your decision...not innocent..." She jerked her hands from his and fled. He flinched slightly as a door slammed downstairs and silence settled in.
A piece of the room became blurry and revealed a solid object, a person, fairy to be technical. This fairy was almost equal to Zach in height and age, but the similarities stopped there. The newcomer had firey red hair and pale skin. Brilliant green eyes glared at Zach, who bowed to his fairy kin. The other did not care and stood stoticly, clearly dissapointed in something--someone.
"Real nice job, Zach, scare the poor girl! We need her despretly and you make her run away. Why didn't you go after her?"
"Prince Niro, I would have but I'm injured." Zach reamained bowed though it pained him. "Prince Niro..."
"Yes, yes, of course, stand up. My goodness man, is that where you were injured? Why didn't you heal yourself?"
"I tried, but the blades I was cut with were coated in numbmagic. It is gone now, thanks to Kriss, but my magic is not yet restored."
Niro placed his hands on either of Zach's shoulders. "Get her back. I'm depending on you to keep her safe 'till I call. Keep her from harm, especially Mem. You know what would happen if he got a hold of her. Now go, reason with her." Niro reached into one of the pouches hanging at his hip and removed a small jar. "Here, take this too. It's Heal-all; use it sparingly, it's the last bottle I have. Good luck my friend." Niro left as he had come, leaving Zach holding the jar.
He sighed heavily as he set the jar on the night stand, beside the empty water bowl. It was then he saw the pile of clean clothes. There was a pair of jeans and a loose white shirt, all about his size. Zach figured Kriss had laid them out for him before he had woken the second time. He changed into the jeans and realized they fit relativly well, as did the shirt. The clean clothes felt good against his skin. He took a deep breath and headed downstairs.
It may have taken a while to find Kriss had there not been sobs coming from the kitchen. Zach cautiously crept to the door and listened to the girl crying. Occasionally she would call herself stupid or hit something. Zach couldn't listen very long and tried the door; it swung open effortlessly.
"Stupid! I tried to help and find that-that innocence I claimed he had, but-but..." Here she sobbed, not realizing Zach was watching. "I'm so s-stupid; I'm an id--"
"No, you're not." Kriss spun around to face him, hair bouncing to a stop. Her green eyes were red with crying and tear trails stained her cheeks. Her hands were still bleeding, a pool forming on the table. "You're not stupid or an idiot." He didn't notice Kriss's hand tighten around the knife from earlier.
When Zach started to step towards her, Kriss pointed the blade at his throat. "Take even one step and you'll regret it." Her eyes were narrow and, though still puffy and red, very menacing. Zach eyed the blade and circled around, trying to get between Kriss and the door.
"Kriss, put the blade down. You don't know where it came from. I don't want to hurt you."
"You hurt me? Ha; if you react anything like you did earlier, it will be you hurting, not me. And for your information, this balde came from the man who wanted to kill you. I made him drop it and now it's mine."
Zach's eyes widened as he realized who's blade it was. "Kriss, put it down. You don't know what it can do."
"I suppose you do?" Her emerald eyes narrowed farther as she spoke.
"Yes. It will turn on you if you don't have control. Please, put it down." Zach stepped back, trying to put as much space as possible between him and the blade. Kriss took a step closer, bringing him all the closer to pain and death. He reached behind him and felt the back door; there were counters on either side of him. Zach was trapped. If Kriss took one more step, he was toast.
Sweat beaded on his forehead and tension built in his heart. He didn't know whether she would take that final step or realize what she was doing and stop. He hoped she would stop then saw she wouldn't. Her eyes were dull, the knife's magic had already taken her over. That one step was all Mem needed to destroy him.
"Krissandra, I know you're in there. Please listen to me." Zach began to reason. "You don't want to do this; you want to find my innocence. I swear, I have innocence, just think about this. Think about your family, your friends, your brother!" As if waiting for those very words, the knife tumbled from her hand and clattered to the floor. Recognition sparked in Kriss's eyes and she came back to herself. Unfortunatly for Zach, this revalation came too late. The knife stopped moving two and a half feet from Kriss, a whole two feet inside Zach's safe zone.
Zach had been unconcious the last time, but now he was awake to feel it all. First his body went numb and collapsed, no longer able to hold his weight. He looked up at Kriss before the first fit came over him. The fear and regret in her eyes haunted him even as pain threatened to pull him apart.
What is she regretful of? Zach thought even as he cringed and kicked out in pain, never screaming. Is the regret my fault or some other thing? Zach watched through far away eyes as Kriss tried to help and he kicked her; he watched helplessly as he hurt her uncontrolably.
"K-k-kr-i-i-s-s-s-s-s..."
"Zach, I'm here, just hold on. I'm going to try and help. I don't know how but I'll try."
"K-n-n-ni-i-i-f-f-e-e..." Zach's fist came up and slammed into Kriss's face; she didn't flinch. "M-m-m-o-o-v-e..." He bit back another scream, the only thing he could control.
"Move? Move what?" Kriss watched Zach's eyes as they darted from her to where the knife had dropped and back. "The knife, of course!" The girl looked around, but the knife had disappeared. "I can't find it, Zach! The knife's gone!"
Zach knew; he could feel it moving of it's own accord up his side. He tried to squeeze Kriss's hand repeatedly; she got the message as the blade lined itself up to stab Zach. She grabbed for it, Zach saw her do it, but she was a second too late. She gripped the hilt after the blade had buried a sixth of its lenght into his side. Zach saw Kriss throw the knife before his world went black.
-Sob, sob, sob- That is what Zach heard as his brain came into semi-conciousness. The sob of someone in pain, the pain of losing a friend.
Where am I? Have I died and gone to Heaven? I wish I could see Kriss, tell her-
"Zach, why? Why did it have to be you? Everything was my fault. -Sob, hiccup- I can't even apologize, b-sob-because you're gone." As he listened to her monolouge, Zach felt tears on his face.
I can feel things, that must mean I'm alive! I must move and tell Kriss I'll be fine; that this wasn't her fault. Zach began to sense his surroundings, the hard floor beneath him, the hard surface against his left side, and the pain throbbing in his right side. Most of all, though, he noticed the quivering weight on his chest. Kriss...please stop crying. He resumed listening to Kriss as she ended her tirade.
"...deserve you're memory. Even if it is only from the past few hours. I don't deserve to live with your memory or to join you when I die. What I do deserve, though, is death." Kriss's voice steadied as Zach's mind snapped to full alertness.
-Sssshing!-I know that sound! Zach cracked his eyes open, a movement unchecked by Kriss. She held a sword of middle length, a kodachi. The handle was sparkling white with an inch of sterlng silver arounnd each end; a curled wisp of cloud wsa the only decoration. That kodachi, its mine. She must have found it upstairs. She isn't...is she?
Zach watched as she turned his sword over in his hands and prepared to take her own life. Zach's hand flew at a speed that suprised him and he put it on the blade. It cut into his fingers as he wrapped them around the kodachi and began to pull. It slid easily from her grasp, her mind in shock.
"If you did that, your family would really kill me." Zach smiled weakly as he out his sword aside.
The shock ware off of Kriss's mind and she flung herself onto Zach. "Zach, you're alive! I-I-I-" she stuttered, unable to convey how she felt.
"You're hurting me. I'll be fine and this wasn't your fault. I came to you, causing Mem to come as well."
"Mem?" Her face was puzzled, a look Zach thought was unfitting.
"He's the man that tried to kill me. Niro's going to hurt me for this, but Mem is acctually after you. Before you even try asking who Niro is or why Mem's after you, I'll say Niro will be here soon. For now though, this one needs to sleep. I'm sorry I can't be of more help, but..." Zach dropped into sleep before he even finished.
Kriss settled her body by Zach's head and cradled it in her lap. She smoothed his hair, softly humming to herself. Zach's hand still rested on his kodahi and the evil blade was in the hall, not out of sight but out of range. She smiled as she watched him sleep.
She was so zoned out that she didn't see the jar that seemingly floated down the hall. She did not notice it until it was in front of her face. Kriss automatically pulled away and stayed silent. It scared her even more when a man materialized.
"It's fine; I'm a friend of Zach's. My name is Niro, as Zach would tell you, but he's kinda out of it right now. Will you let me help you and Zach?" Krissandra nodded and watched as he unscrewed the lid of the jar and dipped two fingers in. The substance he removed was pale green and smelled like mint. Niro saw her looking at it and explained, "Heal-all, very usefull. It can heal and cure just about everything. I'm suprised Zach didn't have this with him and in easy reach. I'll show you; pull his shirt up above the stab. Ewww." He had a right to saw that. The skin around the cut was green and gross. "I should have gotten here faster, but our, I mean, my father wouldn't stop talking."
As Niro applied the balm to Zach, Kriss thought about what he had just said. "Why did you say 'our father'?" Niro ignored her, though she knew he heard her by the way his hands clenched and unclenched. "Niro, anwser me. Why did you say our father? And why did Zach say your brother? When he said that, are you who he meant? Please tell me."
Niro finished healing Zach and covered the jar again. "I wasn't going to tell you until Zach woke and was here to back my story. Kriss, I don't want to do this to you; telling you could make things harder and more complicated. Don't make me do this, not yet. It's been twelve hours since you met Zach. Let at least a day pass before you ask again. Please for my sake as well as yours."
Kriss frowned at Niro. "Fine, twelve nore hours, ho more. Will you tell me more of your family? Why did your father keep you so long?"
"Uh...the storm's almost over. I should be going. Father will want to know where I have been." Niro stood and prepared to depart. Then he was sitting on the floor again, virtually nose to nose with Kriss. "Wha-what are you doing? I really must-" Before he coud finish his excuse, Niro's cheek was smarting. He put his hand to the spot and took in what had happened. "What'd you do that for? I'm trying to go see my fa-" Niro saw it coming; Kriss smacked him again. "Do you mind tellin' me what that was for?"
"Quit lying to me and I'll stop. You weren't going to see your father and you know it. He's been gone a while; your mother too, I'd bet!" Kriss was about to continue when she saw the sadness and tears in Niro's eyes. "Oh Niro, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I see now why you wanted to get away from the subject of family." Kriss looked down at her hands, feeling very rude and ashamed. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You'll find everything out soon enough. I just need time to prepare. That's why-" Kriss put a finger to his lips, silencing him.
"Someone's here." she whispered. "Take Zach and go upstairs. I'll call if I need help. Now go." Niro nodded and picked up his friend, turning at the stairs. He only nodded again and left Kriss's sight.
-Knock, knock- Kriss snapped the kitchen lights off as the front door opened. "Hello! Kriss, are you here? It's Jessie. Are you still awake? I saw your lights on. Kriss?"
"I'm here, just a minute." Kriss turned the lights back on and laughed at the young woman in the hall. "You walked over here, in the rain, without an umbrella again, didn't you?" Jessie nodded causing Kriss to laugh harder. She pointed to the kitchen sink and Jessie wrung her shoulder-length hair out into it. Kriss chuckled as she called up the stairs. Jessie raised her brows in question. Kriss glared at her as Niro came in.
When Niro saw Jessie he turned tail and ran back out. Kriss snapped her fingers and had the air currents bring him back. He ran twice more before he gave up and stood gasping for air.
"What are you trying to run for Niro? It's only my friend Jessie." Jessie turned at Niro's name and tried to run as well. Kriss snapped her fingers again and again her friend didn't get very far. "What is the meaning of this? You get one look at each other and run in opposite directions. Explain yourselves." Neither offered an explanation. "Now!"
"You don't want to go there. They've been at it for fifteen years." a familiar voice said. Kriss looked up from the floor and squealed in delight. She ran to the young man in the doorway. To everyone's suprise, including her own, Kriss wrapped her arams around Zach's neck and nearly kissed him. She let go and quickly backed away, tripping over Jessie and falling on her butt in the process. Evryone except her thought it was funny. Zach helped her up and suprised her once again. He did so by doing what she had almost did seconds ago; he kissed her, on the cheek, mind, but kissed her no less. Kriss fell in suprise or would have if her new favorite person had not snaked an arm around her waist.
"You really must quit falling over yourself; it's not very healthy. Now, let's go into the living room and talk about your mysterious family."
"But Zach, Niro said a whole day should pass first. I'll only do it if he comes too."
"Sometimes he is like the prince he truley is, wise and just. Other times, like now, he is my best friend, stubbon and air-headed." Zach ignored the glare given him by Niro. "It's time this came out. Come on." As Zach pulled Krissandra with him, he whispered, "Don't forget to release them." Kriss blushed, ashamed she had forgotten about the airlocks. Niro and Jessie followed, niether in a very good mood, the total opposite of the other two.
Kriss turned on the living room lights and immediatly regreted it. She put her face into Zach's shoulder, away from the sight. In the middle of the living room floor, spread for all to see, was a teenage girl. She was bloody, wounded, and dead.