Silent Laughter

Silent laughter rings
Echo’s down halls of dust
Lost children forever

Dust falls to the floor
With the recall of children’s
Laughter and soft joy

Once these old halls rang
With the running feet of those
From those children of the night

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Anillos silenciosos de la risa
Del eco pasillos abajo del polvo
Niños perdidos por siempre

El polvo cae al piso
Con memoria de los niños
Risa y alegría suave

Una vez que estos viejos pasillos sonaran
Con los pies corrientes de ésos
De esos niños de la noche

Trying Again

Speeding into the future has always been very, very dangerous, this face has been proven in such things as the space shuttle Challenger blowing up on Jan. 28, 1986 and the Columbia disaster in 2003. But now, with out new, fat more advance technology, NASA is planning on sending seven astronauts into space on the shuttle Discovery and followed by Atlantis. These two shuttles will be testing new safety procedures and cutting-edge techniques for shuttle repair
"We've spent the better part of 2 years making upgrades and improvements to make sure that doesn't happen again," Allard Beutel says.
One goal of the mission, called STS-114 or "Return to Flight," is to continue building the International Space Station. Sixteen nations are working together to build the station, which will serve as an orbiting base for further research and exploration of space and, I assume, earth.
And, this time, NASA has a team of aver 10,000 working to prevent another Columbia or Challenger-type disaster from occurring once again.
"We've spent the better part of 2 years making upgrades and improvements to make sure that doesn't happen again," Beutel says.
Columbia's failure began 83 seconds after launch, when a chunk of foam, put there to keep ice off the hull, broke off its external fuel tank and hit the left wing, damaging it.
When a spacecraft comes back down to Earth, the body can heat up to as much as 3,000 degrees, Beutel says. During Columbia's reentry after 16 days in orbit, the intensely hot air broke apart the weakened wing, and the whole shuttle shattered.
To avoid another such disaster, Discovery is equipped with electric heaters to keep the ice off the fuel tank. And, if any damage should be inflicted on the ship, NASA has impact sensors in the wings and they will alert ground control if ice or bits of debris slam into the shuttle on its way up.
In addition a bunch of high-definition cameras will take pictures and use radar to record every second of the launch from more angles than ever. These images should show any impacts that the impact sensors miss.
And when the shuttle gets to the space station it will undergo a full digital checkup by a bunch of computers, taking pictures and giving any damage assessments that it might have received while traveling.
In the off chance of something going wrong the astronauts will use the space station as a platform for taking spacewalks and making repairs to the damaged shuttle. If, for whatever reason, they can't fix what's wrong, the astronauts will take refuge in the space station, and Atlantis will take an emergency trip to pick them up and return them to terra firma.
With such precautions it seems very unlikely that anything will go wrong and, even if it does, no one will get hurt with the back up plan to the back up plan to the back up plan.
It should take 28 more shuttle flights to finish the space station project, Beutel says. Once it's done, the station could serve as a way station for trips into the distant solar system and beyond, just like in those little sci-fi books and movies we like so much.
"We're not just trying to go to Mars or the moon," Beutel says. "We're trying to put people out in space permanently."
Eventually, NASA plans to launch a whole new, updated fleet of spacecrafts. It's not clear yet what the new vehicles will look like, but they're sure to be safer and better than what's available now. Today's shuttles were built in the 1970s and 80s. Technology has come a long way since then.
The first unmanned test flights of the new craft should go up in 2008, Beutel says. By 2014, NASA plans to use them to send people to the moon on lottery trips and vacations.
"It's very possible that the elementary and middle school students reading this right now are the ones who are going to be going up on missions to Mars and the moon," he says. "The work we're doing today paves the way for them."

Citations:
http://www.sciencenewsforkids.org/articles/20050427/Feature1.asp

Asamosa and Damia Blayton Character Sketches

In the newfound land of Ilgainsa, settled by the Nameless emperor seventeen or eighteen years ago, there are four lands, each different and beautiful in its own way. Each land, or province is ruled by a steward or stewardess, each one picked by their family name.
Haline is the southeast province, closest to the Black Tears and is ruled by Richard Blayton who, in his infinite perseverance and tenacity wanted a son to be his heir, though the law of the Nameless Emperor says that the first child is to be the next steward, or stewardess as the case may be.
Tarebe is the southwest province, known simply as the south, is lushly forested and fertile and ruled over by Lady Ami, who is known in Ilgainsa as The Red Lady, and feared for her temper and infinite cruelty. It is said she rides into battle herself on a great roan warhorse dressed in red armor and brandishing a sword already soaked in lambs blood.
Escan is the northwest province known simply as the west. This is the land of finery and jewels. And secrets wrapped in secrets wrapped in riddles. This land is the furthest away from the Black Tears and is therefore the most civilized of the four provinces. The steward of the west is Lord Martin, merciless and dangerous in his flattery he has never uttered a single word without his own life and land in mine.
Stanstra is the land to the northeast, known simply as the north and is the place of eternal winter. Mountains like great, jagged teeth surround the land on all sides and it is filled with black pines and wolves the size of carts. In this land of eternal ice there is a bitter rule, carried our by the steward: Lord Harold, do not trust any outside the mountains.
These four lands surround the Silver Tower and are each as different from one another as the seasons or the elements and each of them has a bloody history. However it is not the time for those tales but only the heiress of Haline and her sister.
Asamosa and Damia Blayton were born to Richard and Abigail, who were the lord and lady of Haline. Asa, who was the oldest of the twins, was chosen to be heir to the province known as the shadow realm.
Asa, as she was called by her family, was a perfect child. She never cried and did what she was told, but she was more intelligent than anyone cared to give her credit for. If you told her to do something that she thought foolish or useless she would point it out and argue the cons and pros to each side.
In short, she was the perfect heir and Richard felt blessed to have had such a daughter.
Asa and her sister, Damia, were never far apart from each other, despite the fact that Asa had to read and study the politics and dance of each different province, Damia often ran back and forth between her big sister and some new trouble she was creating, often getting Asa to join in with her.
In her time in the library Asa found out she could control and manipulate water and air. At first she thought it was a great blessing and was going to tell her parents when she read in one of the most recent history books that all people with her gift, they were called Witches, a word completely new to the young girl, were all sent to the silver tower and never seen again.
Needless to say she kept her head down and did not tell anyone, even her sister, who adored her and she loved dearly back.
Asa began lose sleep and was soon without an appetite. In these months when she kept her secret she didn’t eat much and slept even less. The poor girl was terrified that someone would find out about her being a Witch and nearly stopped talking, throwing herself into her work more and more until it seemed to the rest of the household that read and study was all she did.
Damia noticed the change in her sisters attitude and immediately began to poke at her, trying to get her to talk about what was bothering her. After a week of silence for Asa, Damia was tired of waiting for her sister to come around and pinned the girl and demanded the answer.
Asa told her little sister everything and when it was done was shocked when Damia burst into laughter and told Asa that she had the same secret, except she could control and manipulate earth and fire.
The two girls were both witches, and because this they became closer than ever. Asa never felt the need to socialize with other children her own age so it was not taxing to her to keep the secret from the children of her fathers household.
One day a man by the name of Edgar visited Haline to see the two nine year old girls and was enchanted by them both and promised to return one day and talk to them in earnest.
When they were fifteen Edgar returned with the two sons from Escan; Argento, the heir to the jeweled province and Aureus, his younger brother.
The girl’s both hated Argento on sight and when, later that evening, for the three of them had come to stay the night, Argento made some off hand comment on witches being plague bearers both girl responded with instant hostility; Damia being verbal with hers and Asa shutting out the surrounding area.
In that space of three minutes Edgar found out the girls were witches and followed them when they walked into the surrounding forest. When he found them he confronted them about their unique characteristic and nearly lost his life.
But he admitted her was also a witch, or warlock in his own words, and could summon and influence wind. He threatened the two girls until he realized the extent of their power then he had to sit down or faint.
Once again his life was threatened and he was presented with a question. If he said anything Damia would kill him, if he stayed quiet Asa would protect him, but it was his choice. He chose to keep his life and stayed silent.
Through there rather tense meeting the three of them became close friends and they left one another in fine spirits, though Edgar was now wary of what the two girls could do.
That night Asa found out her mother hated witches and had a private huntsman to kill the witches her husband had missed in his purge. Asa’s anger is like a glacier when she does allow it to grow, which is rarely and that night she had no outlet so when, the next morning, Edgar tripped the wire that held back her temper she almost destroyed her fathers land with a storm, though even she did not know the extent of the damage she would have caused.
After Damia calmed her sister with a slab of milk chocolate and a joke Edgar was again floored by the way they canceled each other out but, at the same time encouraged them
The storm Asa brought from the depths of her mind attracted the huntsman who was trained in the way of finding witches, he found Asa and immediately adopted a fawning manner before she could use him to cool her rage more.
He made a mistake when he went into the library; Asa now knew the face of the enemy, sadly now Abigail, the girl’s mother, now knew they were witches. After being informed by her huntsman, Abigail went to her husband and her in turn confronted the two, only to be slapped back to his sense, literally, by Edgar.
The sisters were banished from the manor and sent to live in Richards hunting lodge. As the two girls grew they no longer hid behind masks of ladies. Asa became a full time scholar and Damia became the Amazon that was hiding beneath her skin.
They lived in this harmony with nature and people for one year and then, one fateful evening, Damia found a young boy by the name of Karayan, who was the Nameless Emperor’s child.
At first both girls were wary of the boy but, after Damia questioned him closely they found out that Karayan hated his parent, for even he did not know if the Nameless Emperor was a male or a female, and despised how it treated the witches which were also known as the forest people.
Karayan found out what kind of people he was living with when two men found Asa and Damia’s hunting lodge. Damia killed both of them with an axe and Asa, the analytical mind of the two, planned a perfect place to bury them.
While he was shaken, Karayan was not repelled by this quick, brutal way of life. Damia and Asa both found this amusing and comforting, hoping they had found a friend.

Asa is slow to anger and just as slow to love and become friendly. She is careful and formal and courteous but under that silken demeanor is a woman that was a born assassin.
She can lie and hide her emotions as easily as another woman blinks her eyes. She is cold, untrusting and intelligent to the point of scary. Asa does not warm to many often and when she does it is, at first, a shaky relationship that can be broken with one ill word.
However; the girl is also gentle and compassionate, and will aid any who ask for her help to the extent of her powers. She is also mature and calm, never losing her head, no matter the situation. With these virtues and vices she is like the elements she controls.
Damia is quick to anger and hot headed, though friendly and fun to be around. She is brash, passionate and physically strong and with these things on her side she makes a formidable foe and a dangerous friend.
Like her sister, Damia holds grudges and it takes a long time, if ever to forgive a flaw or wrongdoing to her, she does not excuse her flaws and, indeed, embraces them, though she is immature and spiteful.
In her flaws she is, as fire, quick to anger and quick to hurt those who she may think threaten her sister, who is the one person she fully loves and would forgive in anything.
Together these girls cancel one another’s vices out and bring out the best in them; next to angry, dangerous, reckless Damia, Asa is a cool oasis in the middle of a sun baked desert and next to cold, reserved and untrusting Asa Damia is a fun, friendly child who would as soon argue with one as protect.

Asa and Damia have different ways of dealing with people they don’t like. Asa infiltrates that person with her charming personality and Damia tells them outright that she would love to see their guts spewed all over the wall.
To sum up how they deal with people who question them I’ll turn to The Nameless Emperor:

…. I want you to answer one question,” Edgar replied evenly. Asa perked an eyebrow in curiosity. “Which one of you is more dangerous?”
“Damia is the fire that draws your attention, she keeps you occupied,” Asa replied looking at her sister with a grin.
“But it is Asa who is the dagger hidden in the shadows, or the hand that pours the poison into your cup,” Damia said, returning the grin.
“Together we can be more of a threat than you could ever imagine,” the two girls said in unison. Edgar smiled weakly.

This scene is the real turning point for Edgar and how he sees the two sisters, he realizes, perhaps belatedly, that he is dealing with two very dangerous females and shoufl tread carefully.

In their looks, Asa and Damia could not be more different in fact they are as polar opposite that any can get without being ridiculous and being of the same father and mother.
Asa is all and slender with child like curves and a luminescent beauty that does her credit in courts. She has large silver eyes that seem full of knowledge and infinite wisdom and have been compared to a unicorns eyes. Coupling her fragile, pale appearance is her white-silver hair, falling to her knees in spun locks of unicorn silk.
Damia is, however, short and strong with a voluptuous body and a strong, handsome face that, while not pretty draws the eye and her skin as a rich golden tan of a girl that works out in the field all day. Framing her face is a thick mane of wild black hair that curls and waves all the way down her back and often, to Damia’s infinite annoyance, into her face. Her eyes, opposite of her sisters, are narrowly exotic and a rich gold that speak of her emotions very commonly.

The story that these two are characters in is titled The Nameless Emperor and I plan to make a humor/tragic/action/adventure drama following the story of the two girls from the beginning of their lives to the end… when one of them, oh so tragically dies.

Burakku "Runner" Almeta, Character Sketch

Burakku “Runner” Almeta is the unwanted daughter of Kane Almeta, who is king of the Hinomi Mountains.
Her father as well as her two half brothers have made it their mission to break her for their own sadistic purposes. Her father, Kane, beats her whenever he can catch and her brother’s taunt and mock her endlessly, but after living with their tempers and cruel jeers she has become quick and tough skinned, willing to ignore them. Her nickname, Runner, was given to her by her father when she bolted from him when he was going to beat her.
Burakku lives in the Red Palace that has been carved from the Hinomi Mountains themselves. She knows every secret and hidden trap door in the palace and can run the halls as fast as any thief, which is what she has become to survive.
Kane ordered her to be starved for an entire month until she went to him to receive her beating. Instead of succumbing to his orders and going meekly to her father, Burakku stole from the massive kitchens.
First she only snitched small things, like slivers of fruit or slices of travel bread but she became more and more confident in her skills and she began stealing whole sandwiches and bowls of fruit. What she found was interesting, and what renewed her faith in humanity, was that the cooks left food out for her until Kane found out about it, but she still managed to survive on what she did steal.
One day while she was creeping behind the walls and in the endlessly twisting and turning labyrinth of her families palace she heard her brothers speaking of Kane’s dragon’s clutch. Apparently where there should have only been two eggs, for the two heirs, there had been three. And that last egg was uncommonly small and pitch black, glistening like obsidian.
Curious, Burakku went to the stables where her father’s dragon, Nishi had had her clutch. The dragon, like her owner, hated Burakku so it was difficult for the girl to get close enough to see the glassy surface of the black egg. When she reached out and touched the surface, however, she was burned on the palm of her hand. When she looked down at the blistered skin she saw that burned into the soft flesh of her hand was a scar that is, as described in the book:

…. staring out from her palm like an angry red eye, almost in the form of a crown with a straight triangle pointing at the base of her index finger and surrounded by two smaller curving tines on either side.

This mark, clearly defined on Burakku’s skin marks her out from her race as not only a dragon rider but also a royal child, no matter how much Kane would try to deny it, and he had done that plenty. In short it would force a king of a race who thought women were ill luck to recognize his daughter as a potential heir to the throne.
Burakku was stunned when she saw the scar on her palm, for she had thought only males of the royal family could become a dragon rider. Not only that but the next person who touched that egg would be burned badly enough to lose the dexterity in the hand they touched the shell with.
Not wanting anyone else to be hurt she went to her second oldest brothers mother, Dai, who had treated her kindly when no one else did.
Dai was joyous for her step daughter and went to Kane to tell him of the news. When Kane found out he was livid and would have struck Dai had Burakku not shoved him into a wall. He raised his fist to her but he saw she was suddenly wreathed in coal fire and he could not touch without angering the dragon inside the egg.
From that day forward the people of the Hinomi Mountains were in awe and fear of their new princess for she had been marked with the sign of the mercenary and was the dangerous of the three types of dragon riders, the other two being warrior and mage.
Burakku took the black egg, which was now as dear to her as her own life, back to her chambers and guarded it carefully, wary of her brothers who may try to take the precious stone from her and try to get it to hatch on her own.
After a few weeks the egg hatched and out sprawled the wiry, slender black dragon. Having a dragon of that color was literally unheard of and was immediately greeted with superstition.
Not only was the little creature as black as onyx and coal but his diamond hard claws were filled with a ruthless poison that ate at the skin and body until nothing was left, his teeth and the point of his arrow head tail were also filled with similar venom, though he was immune to it.
Burakku named her dragon Kado, after the king who had claimed the mountains as his home, and raised him on what she found in the kitchens, though she was now invited to sit at the grand table and eat the great meals that were served there she did not trust the people of Kane’s court and continued to filch her meals from the kitchen, though now she also stole for the growing Kado.
As the dragon grew, he showed his metal by defending attacks on Burakku from her brothers and father, once nearly killing her second older brother with a gash on his hand left by Kado’s wickedly curved claws.
As they two of them grew together, Burakku taught the hatchling Kado of the world he had been hatched into, the hot, thick red stone that made up the palace and the wickedly screaming wind of the winter months. And Kado, the coal eyes nightmare creature, taught Burakku of the world outside the palace, the places his mother had told him of when he had been curled up in his little egg.
Together they taught each other that the world did not care for them, that they would be hurt if they depended on any but each other.
Burakku became increasingly violent and often snapped at maids who had dared speak of her in the darkness of the night. She lengthened her nails and they acquired a natural curve, similar to Kado’s. She painted those long nails in Kado’s acid poisons and they became stronger than diamonds and sharper than knives, both she and Kado now had poison in their system.
The people of the red palace of the Hinomi Mountains feared the silent shadow that had once been a skinny, wretched girl who was frightened of her own reflection. She became lithe, quick and dangerous, moving through the crimson halls with animal grace and instinct that came to the dragon riders.
Burakku was trained in the weapon of her choice and when taken into the room of weapon’s she chose something she had never seen before, as it is described in the book;


…. Glittering on the wall like a sliver of Artemis it hung there, it’s blades hone to the point where it should have been cutting the air around it…. Burakku starred at the steel device and smiled a slow, lazy smile then looked down in the palm of her right hand where the scar was shining out from her skin like a beacon. The same single straight blade surrounded on either side by curved thorns hung on the wall. She had found her weapon….

Her choice was crafted by the finest weapon designers in the mountains, the blade made from a blackish metal that had been mined from the base of the great ridge. The eight food handle was carved from white oak and carved with words of protection while the blade was carved with symbols of death and destruction.
The weapon was named Tempest and road out many storms and wars in the hands of the creature that was once a trembling shadow.
Kane, king of the red mountains declared was on the Elves that lived across the desert and river, challenging for the land that had been theirs since the beginning of written records.
With four dragons at the head of an army of berserkers it was indeed a terrible and awe-inspiring sight, though the elves were neither impressed nor intimidated and rose to meet what they thought to be barbarians.
The battle was long and hard, and many lives were lost. When Kane fell on the battlefield his eldest son and heir became the king of the Hinomi Mountain people and continued the campaign against the elves. Only now his brother, a man who had devoted his ever spare moment studying and practicing at war was at his side and showing him what he should do.
During these long years of brutal and violent warfare, both brothers began to respect the absolutely cruelty that was there sister. Her heart, linked with Kado’s was drowning in the battle blood she lived for and she completed every task they sent her way, soon all the Hinomi people knew Burakku as “The Black Terror” for she war armor of the darkest coal and flew an ebon banner above her great dragon.

….and saw, standing out against the crimson skies was a shadow of his sister and her Kado, riding from the darkened sky as death it self might ride down from the heavens, her Tempest held high over her head and shining with blood in the shadow sunlight in her right hand and a great flag that fluttered in the smoke filled air. The Black Terror had come to claim the battlefield.

Even the most traditional of warriors was filled with awe and terror at the sight of her.
But the battle, which was foolhardy and thoughtless in the first place, was lost to the Hinomi people and they were forced to retreat, and while they were all bitter about it they turned and went back to their crimson mountains to nurse their wounds and scheme once again.
All except for Burakku, who stayed, alone in the blood drenched sands and fought until the elves cast great silver nets over her and Kado and brought them deep into their forested territory to stand before the king as the black dragon.
The Elf King, Horatiu, oldest and wisest of all the living beings in the known world, spoke to Burakku and learned of the dark fire that burned within her. He was reluctant to kill her for she could not only be a wealth of knowledge but also a great compatriot in battle. He had seen her at war and knew of her skills and lack of fear.
King Horatiu kept Burakku in his palace as his guest and slowly she began to learn the language of the long-lived. She was impressed and surprised by their sophistication and elegance, which she had never encountered before in her own home. Even the most learned of men were crude and boorish in comparison to these light bringers.
As Burakku grew accustomed to the strange ways of the Elves she also found that she enjoyed living in their splendor and peace. She became skilled at their form of writing and often entertained her host with stories of the battle her brother had lost.
Slowly, so very slowly, she began to warm to the Elves themselves and, after a time, became fast friends with many of them and even attracted the eye of general and prince, Sorin, who had fought bitterly with Burakku on the battlefield.
When Horatiu announced that he was going to attack the Hinomi Mountains and put Burakku on her brothers throne, Burakku was of two minds; one was screeching that this was not the way of the dragon riders and she would not attack her own blood while the other snarled that her older brothers and father had never given a damn about her until she showed she could fight.
Burakku was in turmoil, and the voices in her head were constant. Finally, not being able to take it any more she went to Horatiu and told him to postpone the war until she returned. When he inquired upon where she was going she told him, truthfully, that she didn’t know. He recognized the slide toward insanity the Burakku was leaning towards and gave his consent for her to leave.
But when she was packing her saddle bags, Sorin came to her and asked her to take him with her. Burakku, who had never found it necessary to coat or soften her words, told him bluntly, and perhaps untruthfully, that he was not welcome where she was going and that she would not depend on him.
This broke the elf prince’s heart and he left her in a cold rage, unwilling to forgive, and Burakku did not care or at least acted as if she didn’t.
When the next morning dawned she mounted on Kado’s back and took to the clear skies and flew towards the east, further inland and further away from her home.
So ends the first book of the Untitled Series, Ashen Tears.

Burakku was born with brown eyes and soft brown hair. However, when kado hatched her eyes changed significantly. The iris turned white, as Kado’s was, and the outer whiteness that had been there before turned pitch. She had no pupil and yet she was not blind. Marked with these strange eyes, as well as the scar on her hand she was easy to pick out as a dragon rider.
And as all dragon riders become to look like there dragon, her hair turned to a deep black and her skin to a pale ivory, leaving behind the golden glow that was oh-so common among the Hinomi people.
It was normal for dragon riders to change to fit their dragons colorations but to have white eyes was unheard of, marking her out even more.
Burakku sees eye to eye with most men and is careful to keep in shape, so she is trim and lean though sheathed with muscles from her endless hours of training to learn how to use her tempest, for the thing ways half of her weight and, when she is upon Kado’s back stabbing at people, her arms require great strength.
Her face is gently rounded, as that of a young Asian girl’s, and is framed with a long thick sheet of black hair that is tipped in white and grey, she is quiet pretty, though underneath her flesh she is ruthless beyond measure.

The Hinomi Mountain people are a long lived race and while they do not come near Elvish ages they do live over three thousand years, and most of it is spent in their prime.
While the Hinomi’s are very similar to humans in most ways they do have slightly curled forward ears and delicately sharpened teeth.
However, they do not have the curved claws that are so dear to Burakku, those she inherited from her nameless mother, along with her facial features.
Being a dragon rider elongates one’s life even more so, as they would better learn all of the world they were, supposedly, created to protect and serve. The oldest dragon rider lived to about twenty thousand and was killed by an arrow through his eye.
The Hinomi people are a savage race of warriors and berserkers, willing to fight with the last breath that they exhale for a scrap of land or their honor. They farm wheat and barley and raise herbivorous hound-beasts that they eat.
In the mountains they have claimed as their homes are enormous whisper-cats that grow to roughly twenty feet long and ten or so feet high. They are incredibly hard to kill but if one was to be slaughtered its pelt would be a fine treasure. Also in their mountains are rare and precious gems of all kinds. Mining these and killing the whisper-cats is part of their trade and has painted the incorrect picture of elegance and taste.

This story is Ashen Tears and is going to be part of a series of six ore seven books I plan to write from an ancient story, like the Dark Tower Series by Stephen King, if all goes wall. If not then this will be the only story and I’ll finish it in some way or another.
It was inspired by a story I wrote with my friend, Gayle a few years ago and I really liked it, even after we called it quits so I decided to keep the characters until I was ready to use them. Know I’ve found an excellent story which to play with them in and I really hope this is one of my first books.

Alita Sicath, Character Sketch

Alita Sicath was born to Nadia Sicath and Alessandro Sicath in a small Gypsy camp at the edge of the sea. Her little brother, Atra was born two years later and was a constant shadow to Alita, who had always, even at that young age, preferred solitude to the company of others but she allowed her little brother to sit near her as she stared at the forest in the deep concentration that only young children seem to have,
When Alita was eight she began to watch young men fighting with wooden sticks that were roughly shaped as swords with her unwavering eyes that, after long days in the baking sun, seemed strange and judging.
When she sat patiently, watching they play war her brother would sit next to her, watching with his head cocked to one side and sometimes calling out encouragements where Alita stayed eerily silent and still.
She did not say her first word until later that day, and when she did it was in a perfectly formed and well spoken sentence, as if she had been practicing the phrase for her entire short life.
“I want to learn how to fight.” Was what Alita had uttered, rather abruptly in a moment of utter silence around the great fire that the Gypsies sat around, preparing themselves to tell stories that they had saved up for the night.
Not a soul brayed laughter. The Sicath family was one of the oldest in their camp and their daughter, who rarely smiled and almost never laughed, was not a child that you patted on the head and told to be quiet because the grown ups were talking. This was the first time Alita spoke and the words were deadly serious.
After some questioning and probing the camp learned that little Alita wanted to learn how to defend herself with a sword so she could live away from the camp and become a part of civilization which, to her family, seemed strange and unsettling. Despite his significant doubts, Alessandro agreed to teach Alita how to defend herself.
Alita learned very quickly and devoted herself to the art of fighting and, often proved the entire camp wrong, by using moves that, if it had been a real sword in her hand, would have killed her opponent in the most painful fashion.
As the years progressed Alita became better and better until she could best any of the fighters there. When she beat her father, who was one of the best fighters in the camp, he took her into town and got her a sword that he had ordered to be made especially for Alita.
After she was equipped with her weapon, Alita lapsed back into her quiet, mild nature but no one, not even the blatantly ignorant, mistook her silence for stupidity. Four hours at a time she would sit silent and still, watching the sun shine off the waves of the great churning ocean.
To the suspicious in the camp it seemed Alita was casting spells on the world but to those very few who knew her well, they presumed that she was waiting for the time when the world was ready for her.
The world let Alita know it was ready for her in a most disturbing way. Nadia had killed Alessandro after he had learned that Atra was not his son but another man of the camp. Alita had come home to find her father’s dead body.
The silence that Alita had lived in was suddenly broken and her emotions, so carefully hidden came bursting forth. Alita, lost in a haze of rage and hatred had turned to her mother and slaughtered her without a thought. She would have done the same to Atra but the camp had heard Alita’s anguished howl and had hurried to her family’s wagon.
Alita left the camp that night, taking nothing but her sword with her. The silence that she had so carefully cultivated herself to live under had been destroyed by the image of her father’s mangled body and she found herself winning back her sanity by the skin of her teeth.
Now out into the civilized world, Alita, known simply as Sicath now, carved a name for herself in the cultured world of art and fine wines. She guarded her past jealously, making up lies that she pieced together to form a false history that she paraded around as if it was her battle flag.
Soon the news of her skill with the sword spread through the kingdom like wild fire and she was called to King Leon to serve as part of his personal guards. While she accepted his offer, no one was fooled into thinking this was what she thought she was made to do.
Eventually she killed the man who employed her and turned fugitive, running for her life to a new home where they could not find her.
The large portside city where she made her home was called Tetaro and survived well off its fish and pearl trade. Sicath, as she was now known, melted in with the crowd on the shadier part of town and was lost to the guards.
She survived there, living easily in a small apartment that she seldom left, for two years of anonymity, until a young man by the name Ashe. He was not fooled by the bitter silence that she had once again started to build around herself. He also knew who she was and what she had done in her recent past, though he was not aware of her matricide.
After Ashe told her of his knowledge in her assassination of King Leon she tried to kill him, only to find herself bested. This, of course, brushed against her ego and she insisted he teach her all he knew.
Ashe was persuaded, after much arguing and haggling, and became her tutor, and though he was only a year older than Sicath his skills were far better. Sicath learned many tricks, both dirty and fair, under Ashe, and inevitably the two fell in love with one another, but for their safety they decided it be better they were not together for too long at a time.
After a year of meeting secretly and quickly, Sicath was called back into the open by the promise of a job. When she arrived at the meeting place she was propositioned by a man who needed someone to vanish. He had heard of Sicath and wanted to employ her. Sicath, she who killed her mother at fourteen, accepted her first assignment at sixteen.
Over the next two years she became apart of a small group of assassins that called themselves ripples in the dark. One could not apply to this group. When one was good enough at killing silently, one got a ring that had a small, flat and black stone in the center, rippled with white.
Sicath’s lover, Ashe, was also part of this deadly group, this is what led to his death.
Sicath was contacted through a friend by the name of Aurora Unlokes who told her of an employer that would pay a great sum of money to have a few people killed. Sicath accepted and made her way across many miles to a tavern that Aurora owned.
An hour or two after she checked in Ashe followed and the two of them attempted to kill one another. Sicath won and killed Ashe, leaving her own sword and taking his, despite the fact that her father had had that sword made for her.
Sicath never looked back.
At the present time Sicath’s whereabouts are unknown and, until she wishes other wise will remain as such, though there are many who wish to see Sicath dead and rotting.

Due to her upbringing and severe emotional scars, Sicath has never been able to get close to many people. She mistrusts and judges easily, and is not quick to forgive, perhaps because she does not expect to be forgiven herself.
Despite all this and more, Sicath has faith in such things as destiny and fate, sometimes making reference to ‘plans not yet seen’ and the like. She does not believe in any sort of god or divine intervention, choosing instead to believe that stretched ahead of her is miles and miles of paths, waiting for her to tread upon them and make her own choices.
Sicath does has a nifty trick that allows her to lock away her emotions until they are needed again and, in her skewed opinion that is not often. Without emotions she is able to kill anyone as easily as one would kill an ant.
While Sicath is cold, distant and cruel she does not enjoy killing or hurting others, but does it as one would do a hob, this does not make her any less dangerous but it does lead one to believe that there is a loving soul under the wounds she has inflicted upon herself and others have inflicted upon her.
This side of Sicath, small and easily silenced by her ruthlessly trained mind shows it self when the late king Leon’s young brother took the throne and started the slave trade once again. Sicath, born a Gypsy, believed all people should be free to do whatever they wished and made it her life’s pursuit to bring down the tyrant king and put a good man on the throne.
Patriot, murderer, death dealer, Sicath walks under all these banners but still she has not a care what others think of her, calling their opinions unjustified righteousness. Whatever the crowds think of Sicath, there is one thing about her that they will all agree on; to her, mercy is a meaningless word.

Sicath deals with strangers as another would deal with a business college. She is formal, efficient and to the point. Many people find this quite disturbing about her but their opinions mean little or nothing to her.
Surprisingly, Sicath does have friends, though they are far and few between. And though they are her friends, if it was needed she would kill them herself or let them die. At first the people who consider themselves her friends are shocked and dismayed by this but then, after realizing she will not repent they accept it as a part of life.
After killing her mother, Sicath’s only family was her younger brother, whom she despises as if he was a parasite. She blames him for her father’s death and, if she were to meet him, would not hesitate to run him through with her lovers sword.
As she is with strangers, Sicath is calm and formal with her victims, telling them it would be useless to fight and that they will die. She does not go on about the sorrows of her life, and does not try to justify their death to them, Sicath is not much of a talker, and so, after telling them what to expect she kills them.
Sicath, unlike her family and most the Gypsies from her camp who all shared a dusky reddish skin, is fair to the point of looking sickly, the reasons for her unhealthy looking pallor is because of all the time she spends hiding from guards and in the dark, when it is easiest to disappear down narrow alleys.
Matching the appropriate evil look, Sicath has large silver eyes that seem to reflect little and take in all, if one was to look closely one would see the pupil is not round, as an average human but a narrow cat like sliver, which hints of her unknown heritage.
Sicath wears her curly dark hair held back by a simple blue ribbon that keeps it out of her eyes, unless she is working, then she puts it in a tight braid that reaches her tail bone.
She is tall and wiry, with a narrow face and hips and long hands and fingers, each tipped with a slightly curved black claw that she keeps long and sharpened to a dangerous point, these nails, or talons as she calls them, are her back up weapon and she is careful to keep each edge keen and edged with scorpion poison.
Sicath has a strange, dangerous kind of beauty, perhaps likely to be compared to a black widow spider in her web or a wild cat crouched to pounce, and it is not below her to use her pretty face to her advantage when on an assignment.

While Sicath looks quite humanoid, there are hints to another heritage buried deep in the history of humans. She is aware she’s not human but she guards that part of herself as aggressively as she guards her real past.
The hints of her unorthodox species are the curved nails, the cat like pupils and the silence she moves in, sometimes making no sound even in the middle of a forest where twigs and brush are like to call attention to a single misstep. These, along with a few others are pointing to the direction cat like or, perhaps, wolf like.
Though Sicath is unaware she is a distant descendant of an old rave of people who were more like felines than humans, sometimes growing thick fur or even ears and tails.
Luckily, fur, ears and tail on Sicath are all normal or, in the case of the tail, nonexistent. And though she does not have these unusual traits she has the upper hand in the cutthroat world where she has made her home.
Sicath’s story, Ripples in the Dark: The Red Dove, circles around Sicath and her life after killing her mother and meeting Ashe, it actually starts right before she checks into the tavern of Aurora Unlokes and kills Ashe.
The story is mainly action or adventure with romance and mystery thrown in for good measure. She is the main character and goes through a series of obstacles until she comes to the capital where King Leon’s younger brother, King Tule, lives and rules. Here she finds a small group of people who are planning on taking the throne from Tule. Sicath joins their small number but also lets herself be seen by men who have been trained to hunt her down.
The story, which I am currently writing, ends when a great battle is joined, though I am not yet able to tell if the story will end happily or sadly.

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Current Mood: Relaxed
Current Music: In The Long Run, The Eagles