The Beginning of End - Reaconia Chapter 1

Two young brothers discover an evil rising in the land and are forced to leave home, starting an unknown adventure.

Reaconia

 

            The night sky, so cloudless. Never-ending. Wind, cold and welcoming at the same time. It was the perfect night. Looking out to the city below seemed like the mirror of the stars with its sparse candle lights. So beautiful. He felt the grass between his fingers, heard the crash of the ocean coming from not far behind him. Let me know where I belong... What more does this life deserve... What can I do? His thoughts race throughout his mind bringing him to the verge of tears. Tears, it’s been a while since I cried.

 

One: The Rise of Reality

 

            Aleksandar Keilrich loved to sit here. He sighed and let the atmosphere of the night envelope him. He took in every sound and let himself get as comfortable as he could sitting on the grassy cliff. The candle lights slowly started to go out, one at a time, until only a few remained. His thoughts turned to the fact that it was getting late.

            Out of the corner of his eye, behind him, he saw tiny flashes of light and turned in their direction. They were far away, but extremely bright, amazing. He squinted in an effort to see what was happening. It looked as if the lights where dancing, appearing out of nowhere, only to disappear again in an instant. There were two of them, spinning around each other and flying across the water. Whiter and brighter than anything he had ever seen. He then realized what it was.

            I should get back.

He turned back towards the tiny city and began his descent down the hill, holding out his hands to feel the brush of the tall grass between his fingers, watching for things in his path that could be a potential threat: a loose rock, tree roots to catch his feet, anything. He reached the bottom of the hill only to find his brother coming up the same path he had used not long before.

“Roanan,” Aleks said, “what brings you out here, coz?”

“What? More like who,” he replied back, chuckling. “The old man was worried, started talking to me about how you should know not to be out here this late and all. So I told him I would come bring you back home just to get him to calm down.”

The two smiled. “Yah, sure sounds like old Buur,” Aleks said, “But how did you know to find me out here?”

Roanan walked over to Aleks and put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back towards town. “You are not the only one with a lot on your mind lately, brother.”

They walked in silence the rest of the way, making the journey longer than it actually was. They met the cobblestone edge of the trail leading into the city, Pilant, their footsteps echoing eerily in the night silence. Lights and noises where dissipating for the final time of the evening as they passed. They turned a corner and saw their home. It was an old place, one in need of fixing, but it was home to them, and it was always nice to return. Roanan led the way up the mangled wooden steps and tugged at the front door, whose hinges squeaked in protest. One candle sat, burning faintly on a table. It flickered as they walked in. Buur Garning sat with his head drooped behind him, asleep on a chair in the corner of the room. He was an elderly man with a young heart; he cared for the two boys dearly and it was apparent that he had tried to stay awake and wait for them to return. Roanan went to him and touched his hand, waking up the old man, who rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“I am back, grandfather, both of us,” he said, “all in one piece.”

The old man lifted his head and smiled.

“We will talk on the morrow, get some rest,” was all he said, stern but loving. He strained to give his grandchild a hug and placed his hand on the side of Roanan’s scruffy face. He looked at the taller man and a tear welled up and sat on the wrinkled lid of his eye. The two nodded, not saying a word. They had more in common than Aleks would ever understand. The old man shuffled over and gave Aleks a hug as well, which he returned. He owed his life to this man, but didn’t know how to show it. The hug was sufficient for the evening. Buur tussled Aleks’ long blond hair before he turned and walked down the dark hallway. They heard a door close.

Roanan sighed and grabbed the candle and the two stumbled their way through the dark and up the stairs to their room. Roanan blew out the candle and the two began to get ready for a much needed night’s sleep. Aleks sat in the dark and began to think about how this had come to be, his mind went back to a dark night ten years past. He was only a boy of seven when he came to live with Buur and his ten-year-old grandson. It pained him to think of the reason he had to leave his home in Shadowcrest. The Garning’s were a longtime family friend of the Keilrich’s and there was nowhere else he could have gone. Aleks found it hard to imagine him and Roanan ever being strangers, if there ever was a time, the two were inseparable growing up and quickly became brothers.

They both finally crawled into their beds, said their “good night’s” to each other, and nothing was spoken after that. Aleks laid there in silence for a long while. He noticed a small beam of moonlight landing weightlessly on his chest and he followed it through the small window and looked up at its source. It was a clear night, warm and silent. More tears came from his memories, he rolled over and clutched the thin blanket that covered him and pulled it tight. After long hours, he closed his eyes and finally fell asleep.

 

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

 

            When Aleks opened his eyes, the room around him was much brighter than when he had closed them. The dawn of a brand new day. He sat up in his bed and held his head in his hands. It always took him a while to get going; he loathed mornings. After a few minutes in silence, he finally stood up and walked across the room to his brother’s bed. He tapped an exposed shoulder in an effort to wake the sleeping man.

            “Roanan,” he called sleepily. “It is dawn now and there is much to get done.”

            The mound of blankets shifted as Roanan rolled over. He clutched the blanket and pulled it up over his head, not saying a word. During the movement, a small white pillow fell off the bed onto the dusty floor. It was a square pillow trimmed and decorated with lace, and in its center was a crudely embroidered rainbow, small and fraying. He had only seen it a couple times before. Aleks bent down to pick it up when Roanan quickly flipped over and snatched the pillow up off of the floor. He clutched it tightly to his chest and laid back down, pulled the covers over himself again and finally said: “Not now, Keil.” He seemed very sad and Aleks decided it was best to leave him be. He got dressed and walked downstairs to start the day.

            I’ve only ever seen him like that a couple times before.

            Roanan Garning was never the kind of person to let his feelings get the best of him. He always seemed to have a smile on his face, even in the worst of times. He was one of the strongest people Aleks had ever known, aside from his parents, and admittedly, himself.

            He stepped into the main room to see Buur putting on his travel attire. Aleks saw a pack of clothing, kitchen items, knives, spoons, pans, a wooden bowl and a flask, with lanterns and candles, along with bedding, woolen blankets and a pillow. It looked like it was going to be quite a long journey for the old man. Buur looked up slowly and noticed Aleks standing in the doorway with a questioning look on his face.

            “You must be wondering where I am off too on such a short notice,” he said.

            “Yah, you haven’t said anything. Where are you going, pa?” Aleks replied.

            “Just a, ah, short trip. You see, ah, I have to… just a little business needing to be done in Plock. Just over yonder hill. I’ll be gone naught a fortnight,” the old man said with a smile, like he always seemed to do after saying something, especially when that something wasn’t true.

            “Have you talked to Roanan? I’m sure he would want to know even more than myself what you’re doing.”

            “He should be comin down any moment, just like yourself.”

            “Not today, something seems to be on his mind. He won’t get out of bed.”

            A look of sudden realization flashed across Buur’s face. He sighed as he seemed to internally collapse.

            “Has it been a year already? I can’t believe I almost left him,” Buur muttered to himself. “I’ll be right back down Keil. Get ready for your chores.”

            Buur walked past his adoptive grandson, turned, and went up the stairs to the boys’ room. I can't remember the last time I climbed these steps; his old age made it harder every day. He felt the strain on his knees increase with each step and reached the top achy and out of breath. The air seemed heavier around him, and it was growing hotter with the rising sun. Lying on his bed in the corner of the room was his grandson, drowning in his self-pity. Buur walked over and sat on the edge of the small bed, partly to relieve his complaining legs, but mostly to console his grandson. Roanan shifted in response as Buur folded his hands and set them in his lap. He felt horrible for forgetting about his grandson and this moment which had inflicted his life for these last couple years.

            “I know why you are upset, son,” he said after a moment of silence. “It’s been two years to the day, and I know you must be hurting. I know what it is like to lose part of your family, the loved ones who you are closest to.” He opened his mouth to say more, but the words were absent. There is only so much you can say to someone so young who has been through so much.

            The dark haired man fought to sit up, his eyes were red and his face was flushed. He looked discomposed as his eyes circled the room in a world of emotion and thought. He held the tiny white pillow in his lap and looked at it. It was almost as if he was looking through it and saw it for what it represented. A smile creased his lips as he said:

            “I will be fine; I just needed a moment alone.” He looked at his grandfather and sighed. Buur reached out and hugged his grandson, and squeezed the young man as hard as frail arms would allow, holding Roanan as he wept. The two had more in common than anybody would understand. Buur also shed a tear for the loved ones that he had lost, but he had to stay strong for this child.

            Roanan tried his very hardest to hold in the tears. He wasn’t a child anymore and was trying and failing to show this. He was a young man, twenty-two years of age, and he had to be strong for others. But every time he saw her face, he broke down.

            His mind raced back to a woman, young, beautiful, gentle smile, long blond hair, perfect. She was everything he could have ever dreamed of having.

            Elisabell Lioulail, the loving and caring girl that became his wife. She was from a small family in the neighboring town of Dark Canyon, a little city, a gloomy place at the bottom of a giant ravine, not far from Pilant.

            How could someone so beautiful and pure come from such a place?

They were betrothed and married within a fortnight upon meeting, and the young couple fell quickly in love. She was his. They started a life anew; they had their own home, their own dreams, they had each other… and the day she told Roanan that they were expecting a child had been the happiest day of his life. They were going to be a family, a whole… until that fateful day changed everything, two years ago to the day. There were complications; the baby did not survive, a small girl, Nadalie, and was slowly followed in death by her mother, Roanan’s beautiful wife. A white pillow was all that remained of their entire life, the one that he clutched in his hands now. A small token made for his child. The rainbow he had sewn himself, the symbol of his wife’s house. A sigil of happiness to lead him through those dark times, it had helped him through the first two years of his hardship, but now it was time to help himself.

“Long day ahead, we should get moving, pa.”

“Aye,” Buur said back. “Just one other thing, as I’ve told you before: ‘You will get through this.’ Your mother left this realm the very same way that your young miss did. And I will not let you have the same fate as my son. I loved your father, Roanan, but you are stronger than he. Nero couldn’t handle the fact, and ran away from it. I know you will not do the same, I will not let you. So let us get up and start the day, eh? Aleks is waiting.”

“I’ll be right down, pa,” Roanan said, wiping the last tear from his face.

Buur stood up from the bed and started walking back towards the stairs. He put his hand on the old banister and turned back towards his grandson.

“I love you, son.”

Roanan smiled in response.

Buur continued down the steps; they were easier this time around. Just as he was out of Roanan’s sight, he froze. He placed his hand on his heart, which pained him, and he stopped to breathe. He hated those times. How many hardships must one person go through in a lifetime? Only he knew, though, that there was one more endeavor he must face. He stumbled down the rest of the stairs and went to finish packing.

Roanan collapsed back onto his bed, and laid there for another moment, breathing, looking up at the ceiling above him. After another minute of thought, he threw his covers off and carried the little pillow over to a chest that sat in the corner of the room opposite his bed. The lock was opened the night previous so he lifted the wooden lid; on the surface, it appeared as if it was full of his clothing: small clothes and shirts. He lifted the stack of cloth that was piled on the very right of the box; underneath was a small painted picture, one holding the visage of his young, beautiful, dead wife. He kissed his hand and placed his fingers on the small portrait just where her lips were, as if she was kissing back. He placed the pillow that represented his innocent daughter carefully on top of the portrait, replaced the stack of clothes over the top and closed the lid. He threw on a new pair of clothes and headed down the stairs; the morning was almost already past. It was time to get moving.

Another year gone past, another year ahead of me.

He came around the corner to see Aleks lacing up his boots. Aleks stood and walked up to Roanan and placed a hand on his shoulder, an apparent form of comfort from the young man. Aleks didn't know how to help Roanan, but the simple gesture told his brother that he was there for him anyway. Roanan smiled.

“It is late, we should get moving. There is much to be done,” Buur said.

            The three men ate whatever sort of breakfast they could quickly find, some bread and fruit, and started their day’s journey. Roanan cracked the door, and the cool, crisp morning air flooded their senses as they stepped out into the risen sun. The mangled steps of their house creaked in protest as they exited the old building, stepping down onto the main road and turning towards the southern gate of town. The small town was quite empty and silent, their friends and neighbors already gone to do their part of the day’s chores. Their footsteps were the only thing that could be heard, drowning out the sound of the early morning birds, fluttering about. Aleks and Roanan led the way, followed shortly by Buur, who seemed to have something on his mind. He walked with his head facing the ground, he seemed to be happy, though, and the boys paid no attention to it. They walked in silence for a long while, it wasn’t out of sadness or confusion or anger, it was just that there was nothing needed to be said. They simply walked, enjoying each others company before they parted. Buur spoke first.

            “While I am gone, you must keep busy. The fields to the south need weeding and the two to the west will be ready for harvest soon,” he said hobbling behind the other two. “I will be back before nightfall come a fortnight. I’m sure I can trust you both to stay out of trouble for the duration of my absence.” A smile emanated on his face as he glared at his boys, especially Aleks, with a stern look, “that means be home before curfew too.”

            “We’ll be fine, pa,” Aleks said.

            “Be home before dark and stay away from those cliffs. There are more of them coming around every day; you must use every precaution.”

            “We know, grandfather,” Roanan said. They both knew what Buur was going to say next. The two looked at each other, smiling.

            Buur kept talking, “They’re only here for their own personal gains. They’re intruders, taking what is not theirs and with no reason to be here. Don’t you know what would have happened if they found you last night? They’ll take you away without any question of who you are and where you are from, do you want that? To be taken away?”

            Aleks bit his bottom lip, thinking of something to say; this was one of those moments when it was hard to tell if Buur was lecturing or joking. He finally said:

            “No.”

            “Simple enough, boy,” Buur said with a slight smile, “and that’s good. I can’t risk losing you, or else I would be down on these old knees picking weeds right alongside my grandson.” He laughed after he said that.

            Stern and loving. Aleks laughed too.

            The three continued walking and came to the bottom of a small hill. Years of travel had left the path to the top disheveled and broken; the boys struggled to make their assent. At the top was the southern gate in the city Plock. For a small town, it was quite the imposing structure: two large flat boulders were stood upright, parallel to one another, at least four paces high, and near the top there was a large wooden beam that ran through the two boulders, making an archway. There was a small stone wall that ran off in a straight line on either side.

            “Well, boys, this is where we must part ways,” Buur said with a hint of remorse in his voice.

            Roanan was the first to step forward. He leaned down to give his grandfather a hug. He held the older man the same way that he had been held not long before.

            “Thanks for everything, pa,” he said.

            “You are a good man, Roanan. Your parents would be proud, as I am.”

            That last statement shocked Roanan; it sounded like a resolve, an end to something that he couldn’t quite understand. Roanan gave one last squeeze.

            Then Aleks stepped forward and gave Buur a hug as well.

            “I really don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you, and how they’d be treating you… especially after what you have endured already. Your parents would be proud too.”

            “I know, pa, thanks.”

            He took a step back and looked at them both. “I trust I can leave you both to manage things?” he said.

            The men nodded. They all stood apart from each other now.

            “I am blessed to have you two in my life; I could not have asked for better sons. All right. Go.”

            The two young men smiled.  With everything being said, Buur nodded at his two boys in a way of saying ‘goodbye,’ then he turned and started walking down the hill in the same direction that they had just come. As he was walking away, Buur yelled out:

            “See you both in a fortnight!”

            He wanted to say it to them earlier, but lying to their faces would have proved too difficult, he knew he could not do that. An uncontrollable sob fought its way to the surface but Buur caught it in his throat. He had seen his Light and he knew that he might never see those beloved boys again; he did the best he could at sustaining himself as he walked back towards their house to finish packing his things.

            Aleks and Roanan watched as their grandfather walked away from them down the hill. They both knew something was wrong.

            “Well, those fields aren’t going to weed themselves,” Roanan said, breaking the silence. The two turned south and walked under the arch of the gate. Once they got over the ridge, there was nothing to see but farmland. It stretched an expansive distance and they could see others working their share of land. It was getting very warm out. Aleks and Roanan stepped up to the entrance of their plot and sighed, they could see weeds sprouting out from the tops of the wheat harvest.

            “Let’s get going,” Aleks said as they moved forward to start working.

They walked to the other side of the field, wading through the waist-high foliage; it was easier to start at the end and work their way back towards the gate. They reached the fence, which was nothing more than pieces of wood sticking vertically out of the ground, and prepared. There was a large wood cart there ready for them to use, where they put all the weeds that would be used for new thatching for the roofs of the town’s buildings. Roanan went over and grabbed the cart and pulled it to them. He then bent down and grabbed his first root from its base and pulled, shaking off the earth that came up with it. He threw it into the cart behind him and bent over to grab the second one.

 

The walk back to the house was the longest walk Buur had ever taken. He felt sick and full of sorrow.

That may be the last time I see my boys again.

He pulled himself up the stairs and through the door, which he closed behind him. He started to sob uncontrollably. He fell against the door and collapsed onto his knees. It was as if he couldn’t breathe and for a moment; he thought his heart had stopped beating. After a moment, he composed himself and fought to get back onto his feet. He stumbled through the door to his chambers and finished grabbing his belongings. The room was blurry as he looked through the tears welling in his eyes. He reached out in front of him and wrapped his hands around the straps of his bags. The weight of them seemed a lot heavier this time, they were almost unbearable to lift. He thought it was his emotions getting the best of him.

“Every move I make is another step away,” he said to himself.

He hesitated for a moment and considered unpacking everything and not taking this journey he had made for himself. He knew that whatever he decided to do though would hurt his boys. They didn’t know anything about what was happening with him, and it was better, Buur decided, to be away when he died than to be here, in this house. He took a moment to look around the place, his home. He had spent most of his long life in this house and he never imagined himself leaving like this; saying goodbye and walking away… The light was shining through the windows, giving the room a soft glow. He sat down on his bed and placed his head in his hands, his eyes focused on the tiny pieces of dust floating in the beam of sunlight. He sat there for a long moment, reflecting. He had made his mind up.

He stood up as fast as he could, picked up his bags and threw them over his shoulder, grabbed his mantle off the hook and went out the door before he could think otherwise.

Inside the house was a place to think about everything, but outside was a completely different scenario. His friends and neighbors were about, and he couldn’t let them suspect anything.

I must feign happiness.

A few stared and waved as he stepped down out of his house. He fixed a smile on his face and waved back.

“Buur, old fellow!! Where be you off to on this glorious day?” an elderly man yelled from across the road.

“Just some business in Plock, Orlon. I won’t be gone but a fortnight!” he lied.

“Well, come back soon, eh? Those lads of yours are depending on you, old man,” Orlon said back to him.

All he could do was stare. That last line was like a knife shoved into his gut. Finally he nodded and started down the road towards the stables. He walked quickly, staring at the ground; he didn’t want any more distractions. Every face he saw, every recognizing gaze made it harder to continue, and he had to do this.

He saw the stables just ahead of him on the eastern road and noticed the stable boy sitting on a wooden crate, carving pieces of an apple with a small blade.

“Boy!” Buur shouted, walking towards him. “Get my ride ready, and be quick about it.” The young boy shot to attention and ran back into the barn to get the supplies he needed. Buur was aware of his sternness, but didn’t think anything of it. He loaded his things into a saddle bag, while the boy returned with his horse. She wasn’t a pretty mare: white and spotted, with short legs and a slight bow to her back, but she was his escape, so she would play her part nicely. It took the lad another minute with the bridle and ropes, but then Buur was atop the horse and on his way. He tossed a copper coin down to the boy, who caught it eagerly.

He couldn’t believe he was here; he had one last quest before he took his final breathe and he was starting it. He applied pressure just in front of the horse’s hind legs and so began his journey. He breathed heavily and dared not to look back. This was the hardest thing he had ever done, and it took every last drop of courage bottled up inside of him to do it.

Once he was north of the city, the only sounds that could be heard were the clip-clop of his horse’s hooves on the rough roadway, and the singing of the birds fluttering above him. It was surprisingly peaceful, inside and out, and he felt very calm and focused. He only had one goal in mind now as he strolled into the countryside.

 

It was hot; the sun had moved high into the sky and all of the morning clouds had dissolved into nothing. The wind had also picked up, bringing in the warm salt air from the sea to the east of them. It made the wheat fields around them swirl and whisper, it also made the air dense and humid. Roanan stood up to get a drink from his water skin and a drop of sweat ran down his back. He looked for a clean spot on his ragged tunic to wipe his brow. He mopped off the grime and sweat out of his eyes and tied his shirt around his waist. He stopped a moment to breathe and looked at his hands, which had become brown and blistered from the mornings work; he dropped them to his sides and looked around the field. It was if they hadn’t moved, and the better part of the day was already behind them. There was still so much to be done. He sighed in frustration as he grabbed the next weed. He looked over and spotted Aleks a little farther off working away.

Aleks stood and stretched, leaning back with his hands on his hips. He looked around and sighed as he relaxed. He enjoyed being out here; the breeze felt nice against his skin, which was reddening in the afternoon sun. The silence and work kept his mind wandering; a long day of work gave way to a lot of thoughts. He tightened the fabric he had around his hands for protection and continued working. Time seemed to go by faster as the day went along. After what seemed like a short time, the sun was beginning to set and the other town folk had started on their way back north towards the village. He remembered what he had seen last night, on the cliffs outside of town; the fire out on the water, how they danced, flashing brighter than the moon. He wasn’t sure about it, but it could have only been one thing:

            Dragons… the war is getting closer.

            Their grandfather had told them about the war: the two opposing countries on either side of the world: Pyron in the south and Sheezen to the north, who, after some time, managed to involve the whole realm. From what Aleks had understood, it was more of a family rivalry than a political one. He never had interest in that subject of their studies. The previous night was the first time he had ever seen dragons before, and it scared him how close they were. Those are the people his grandfather had warned them about, the army, out recruiting. The two opposing nations have been scouring the nation looking for anyone to join their cause.

            “They will take you away without any question of who you are and where you are from...” Aleks repeated to himself, remembering his grandfather’s words.

            “What was that, coz?” Roanan said walking up to him, pulling on his raggedy tunic. It was wrinkled and spotted with sweat stains and dirt. “I have had enough of heat and weeds for one day, let us go home.” He patted Aleks on the shoulder, and grinned. The thought of dragging the cart full of thatching the mile home was not a pleasant one, but each of them grabbed hold of one side of the handle and pulled, the two back wheels creaking with every bump. They went through the gate and onto the road, joining the others in their trek back home. There was an elderly woman walking ahead of them, Marias. She was one of the townsfolk who lived near the eastern gate, down the road. She came over to their house occasionally to see Buur; she seemed quite fond of him. Aleks and Roanan caught up to her quickly, she was limping and carried a large burlap bag on her back. Roanan gestured to Aleks to go help her and took a hold of the cart with both hands, assuming that task. Aleks walked up to the old woman and asked her if he could take the burden off of her shoulders, which she happily condoned.

            “Thank you, sweet child,” she said. She was much better off from then on; she stood up straighter and it seemed like she could breathe easier, “I thought all courtesy left when your grandfather did this morning, such a wonderful man, though he didn't bother saying goodbye to me.”

Aleks and Roanan knew that she was in love with their grandfather. She was always cooking him things, and touching his arm and made sure to kiss him on the cheek each and every visit. Buur didn’t seem to mind, but the boys knew that he would only ever love one woman.

            “Do you boys know when he would happen to return?”

They could see the fantasy playing out in Marias’ mind. She was daydreaming as she tottered along in front of them. It was as if she was a young maiden again. The two exchanged a look.

“He told us a fortnight, but we don’t know as of yet, ma’am,” Aleks responded.

The three continued on their journey, Marias in front of Aleks, humming, and Roanan behind him, struggling with the cart. They finally came up to the southern gate of the town and crossed the divide between town and country. The shadow of the stone archway gave a moment’s respite from the sun. It lasted mere seconds, but for being in the sun all day, that was all they needed. The townspeople began gathering in the small courtyard in the center of the town to collect the plants that were picked. Tomorrow they would be bound and dried for new thatching. There was quite a large pile forming as Marias stepped to Aleks and gently lifted the bag out of his arms. “Thanks again, deary. Trea be watching over you.” She turned around and hobbled towards the pile and placed her bundle on top, fidgeting with it until it was stacked neatly to her standards. She nodded to them again and walk down the eastern path towards their houses.

Roanan used his body weight to pull against the cart, bringing it closer to the mound of thicket. Two children darted in front of him and he was forced to stop abruptly. He stopped to stare at the two youngsters, a boy and a girl about five years of age, as they ran passed him in their rough hewn dirty clothes. They seemed so happy, as if nothing in the world could stop them. In his mind, Roanan imagined a small girl tottering after them; she was younger than the two, clothed finer in a small green dress  that was a little too long, with blonde, curly pigtails that bounced behind her as she chased after the other children. She had the biggest smile on her face, which made Roanan feel a sense of longing for what would never be.

“Remember what it was like to be so young, brother?” Aleks said, noticing what Roanan was staring at and recognizing the look on his face. Aleks hopped up on to the back of the cart and started tossing down a bundle of weeds.

“Of course that was before we came of age to work.” Roanan said, catching the bunch.

After a few moments, the wooden cart was empty and the sun a little farther down in the sky. The brothers left the

cart behind and started on the journey home. It became increasingly harder to keep their feet on the ground and they

shuffled their way up to the steps of their house. The inside was dark and smelled stale, the day’s heat making it musty. Aleks

propped open a couple windows and lit some candles while Roanan prepared a morsel of food. The two ate in silence; they

could feel the exhaustion of the day’s labor pressing down on their shoulders.

            After he was done eating, Aleks walked into the sitting area and plopped down onto a sofa and sighed, finally able to

relax. He rotated his shoulders, feeling the bones crack and pop beneath his skin. Roanan hated when he did that, but the

release of pressure was a great feeling. He looked down at his hands, which were a bit rough, the bandage he had around

them had torn in places, leaving some exposed areas with a few cuts and bruises. He looked over at Roanan, who

was having a bit more trouble with things. His hands were blistered and scraped beyond measure, he picked at his hands and

winced every time he touched sections of newly exposed skin. The dirty water in the basis probably didn’t help the pain.

            “Let me go get some fresh water, Ro,” Aleks said, getting up to help.

            He grabbed a fresh pail from the washroom and walked to the door. The cooler air poured in as he opened the door,

which creaked on its old wooden hinges. The night gryllees where chirping loudly in the dark and they hopped away as he

walked by. He looked up towards the brilliant black sky, and only saw stars. “Must be a night of the black moon,” he said to

himself. He made his way down the road, a wheeled groove in the road making the perfect path. He could see the well just

ahead of him a few yards off. He glanced a bit of movement to his right and stopped where he stood. He looked over and saw

a silhouette of a figure standing in the road, a woman in a white shift, humming and strolling to her own pace.

            “Marias?” Alex said.

            “Oh, hello, sweet one!” she replied back, she seemed in a daze.

            “What are you doing out so late, ma’am?”

            “Not to worry child, I haven’t been able to sleep well for some twenty years. I just wander now, when I feel like it.”

            “Maybe we’re not supposed to sleep well,” he said smiling. The effort to reassure her was clearly woebegone.

Although it was true, Aleks rarely slept through the night, although the day’s labor and exhaustion may help.

            “Oh, and why can’t you sleep, son?” She seemed concerned. “Is it because your grandfather left?”

            “Just bad dreams,” he said quickly, “actually… one bad dream… from when I was a boy, and I haven’t been able to sleep since.”

            “You’re still a boy, child. Now run along and leave this woman to her silence,” she said as she started walking

down the road on which he had just come from. She hummed a sweet song.

            He stared after her for a moment, wondering. “Good night, Marias.” He turned and went to the well. He grabbed the handle of the pail and tied it to the rope line, dropping the bucket into the crude stone tunnel. After the splash, he grabbed the rope and pulled. The bucket appeared at the surface carrying fresh water, which glistened black in the starlight. He dipped his hands in the cold liquid and rubbed them together, the dirt on his hands making the water darker as droplets fell to the ground. A faint noise caught his attention; whatever was making the sound seemed far away, out of the city limits. He heard a rattling sound. It was as if a group of people were marching. He looked around and picked up the pail and turned back to the village. The bucket swayed as he walked and he swung the pail from arm to arm, the weight making him sway up to the house. The candlelight coming from inside the house gave the outside a soft glow. He opened the door and stepped into the warmth. He saw Roanan ahead of him still peeling skin from his fingers.

            “Here, this will help,” Aleks said, setting the pail behind him. Roanan knelt by it on the floor and braced himself. He dipped his hands in the water and winced, breathing heavily through his teeth. He sighed as he became accustomed to the pain, and began lightly started scrubbing the dirt and skin from his hands.

            “It’s as if I’ve been flayed,” Roanan said, smiling through the pain, “should have been more careful.” He dried his hands on a linen towel and tore strips from it to use as bandages. Aleks helped him tie a knot around the palm of his hands.

            “You’ll be just fine, brother,” he replied.

            The moment came for sleep and the two happily obliged. They blew out the candles and walked upstairs to their room. Aleks’ bed came up to him with a welcoming embrace. He looked and saw Roanan walk over to the chest in the corner, he knelt by it and said something quietly, Aleks assumed it was a little prayer, but he couldn’t be sure. His eyelids became increasingly heavy and soon his world turned to black.

            Roanan opened the chest and grabbed a newly cleaned blanket and threw it over his brother. He walked over to his bed and sat down slowly. He peeled off his shirt, grabbed a blanket for himself and lied down on his bed. He thought of his grandfather, wherever he might be. And then thought of his beautiful child and beloved wife, and then of his father, wherever they might be as well. He looked over at Aleks then, sleeping away.

            He’s the only one I’ve got left. All the others are gone.

With that, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and forced himself to keep them closed until he drifted into sleep.

 

            The next morning, Aleks awoke to the noise of people bustling outside on the street below. It was Alve, a day of prayer and worship to God, Trea. Aleks sat up in his bed just enough to see outside the small window to his left. He noticed Marias across the street, chatting with her usual acquaintances, he wondered if she had gotten any sleep; and he old Orlon, trying his best to walk down the stairs out of his house; as well as many others. There were carts darting this way and that, and the people were lively. It was the one day, he noticed, that most everybody in the small town was out. A day Aleks liked to avoid, and Roanan too, as of late. He wanted nothing to do with it; no people asking him questions they didn’t need to know anything about, and he didn’t want to worship anything or anyone he didn’t believe in. He felt like a fraud when he went into the prayer house, and after Roanan’s recent past, he would just as rather skip it too.

            Instead, the two decided long ago that they would use this time of day to get a head start on the day’s labor. So Aleks rose from his bed and walked over to the fresh linens and dressed.

            He walked to the bed where his brother slept and, once again, tapped Roanan on the shoulder. That was usually how days began. The dark-haired man fought to sit up and tossed his blankets aside.

            “Why must the day start so soon?” he asked.

            “It is well past daybreak and everyone is about,” Aleks said back. He tossed a shirt at his brother, who caught it just in front of his face. After a moment, the two were ready to go outside. The door cracked open, and they stepped down into the now empty street. Everyone was gathered down the block in the white gabled chapel, the 'House of Prayer.' There could be a faint singing heard from behind the closed doors and dark-paned windows. The church was by and large the most extravagant building in the town, tall and grand with carved moldings of intricate designs bordering the steeples. He remembered the inside had detailed murals that decorated the walls, depicting images of love and courage and friendship and wisdom, among others. They were all considered to be characteristics every man should posses, all under the symbol for faith, and the watchful eye of God, of Trea. Though he remembered the murals and symbols, he could not remember the last time he had been inside that place. He had lost faith in Trea when He had turned away from him, some ten years past; he was a small boy when he had made that decision. Roanan had stopped attending mass a couple years past.

            The two walked into the casted shadow of the building on their way out to the fields once again. Aleks glanced into a pane of dark wavy glass, and wondered if anyone stared back out at him; some man who felt like a fraud, or some woman who always was righteous no matter what she did, or some small infant who didn’t even know where he was. He turned his head and kept walking past, feeling no regret. He squinted as he stepped back into the light.

            The job today was simply to go collect the piles of thicket that were left yesterday and bring them into town to be bound and dried. The dirt clouded under their feet where they stepped. Roanan shuffled his feet to cause a stir, and kicked some dirt towards Aleks, joking around. Aleks jumped out of the way and kicked some back.

            “What the devil is that about, brother?” he said, laughing.

            “Eh, you only live once, got to have some fun. Saw you were pretty deep in thought, as usual, so I intervened.” He grinned as if he was proud of himself. Aleks just smiled and nodded at him.

            “Well, ta very much,” he said.

            “What were ya thinking about anyways?”

            “Maybe while grandfather is gone, we should go to the House of Prayer,” he said. “He left very suddenly and he is not in the best of health. We should pray for him, or maybe we should have offered to go with him.”

            “Old Buur is tougher than anyone I know, brother. That man has been through more and seen more than either of us will. He is clever and blessed,” Roanan said. “A little trip to the neighboring town is not going to harm him. He said he would return in a fortnight. Don’t let a little worry fuddle your judgment, you know better.” Roanan rested an arm on his brother.

            “I know. I am sure he’ll be fine, but it couldn’t hurt to try.”

            “The saints I believed left long ago, and they won’t do anything for pa, just like they didn’t for me, brother.”

            Aleks knew to end the conversation then; the two had had this talk many a time, and when Roanan was convinced, there was no changing his mind.

            Nothing but the wind could be heard for a long while. Aleks walked, feeling the small rocks and dirt beneath the thin sole of his shoes. Today was a lot cooler than it was yesterday, there was an abundance of clouds that dotted the sky, and a refreshing breeze emanated from out on the ocean to the east.

            There was an empty cart left just outside the city. They grabbed it, and walked out to the uneven ground of the first field. It seemed quieter than it had been in a while. The breeze whistled through the tall grass and made Aleks’ blonde hair swirl around his eyes. He brushed his face clear as he lead the way through the crops. The first pile of thicket came up on them and they threw it in the back of the cart and made their way to the others, which could be seen dotting the horizon.

            The sounds of children running and playing could be heard, faintly, from just over the nearest hill. They popped out of the woods and darted across the vast golden fields, laughing and shouting, five total, who didn’t have a care in the world. They kept themselves occupied while their parents were in town.

            Roanan watched them for a moment. “Remember when we were younger?”

            “It wasn’t that long ago, brother,” Aleks said back.

            “For you, maybe! I had eleven name days before you came along! …Seems like ages ago.”

            “By then, you were old enough to be working, and I came of age not long after. We rarely had moments like they have now,” Aleks said, referring to the children who disappeared beyond the cliffs, off to explore.

            “Oh, think again, brother!” Roanan dropped the cart and grabbed Aleks around the neck with his arm and wrestled him to the ground. Aleks fought back, punching and pushing his way free. He kicked Roanan from off of him and stood to meet his aggressor. The two spun around each other, throwing jabs and knees. Aleks made the first move, lunging towards Roanan, throwing his shoulder into the older man’s stomach and picking him up, just to drop him back to the ground, flat on his back.

            “You’ve learned a few moves since the last time,” Roanan said. It had been a while since the two sparred. Roanan spun and kicked his way to his feet and began to chase Aleks, who had taken off running down the hill, a smile plastered to his face. Roanan pursued his younger brother, hopping over rocks and lumps and cracks in the earth. He saw his moment arise when he noticed Aleks stumble and lose his balance. He was gaining quickly and when his brother tripped, Roanan picked him up and tossed him over his shoulder. Aleks resisted as best he could, but Roanan was always stronger, and had a couple more years experience. Fighting was useless; Aleks used all his energy and gave in as Roanan carried him back up the hill. At the top, Roanan laid Aleks on the ground and kicked him back down the hill. Aleks rolled a few paces and stayed there, stretching out on the ground. Roanan stood at the top of the hill with his hands raised in the air, like he had won some sort of victory. He was breathing heavily, and placed his hands on his hips.

            “Perhaps we are past our playing days,” he said, out of breath, “It was fun while it lasted, though.  Aye?”

            “Aye,” said Aleks, smiling. He was still lying in the grass; he stopped a moment to look up at the soft white clouds, which stood out against the pale blue sky, surrounded by a frame of golden wheat. It was peaceful.

            Roanan stretched, letting the wind cool him off. His shirt clung to him where sweat gathered around his neck, back and sides. He turned and walked towards his brother, when a glare caught his eye, coming from across the field, at the edge of a wood. The reflection had a red tint to it, and glistened in the high sun.

            “Keil,” he said. “I think I may have found something.”

            Aleks sat up in the grass, facing Roanan. He stood and turned around. Swatting the dirt from his clothes, he looked in the direction that his brother was, but saw nothing. Roanan walked past him. “It’s right down this way.”

            They walked through the fields, wading through the tall foliage, lifting their feet high through the undergrowth. As they made their way to the wood, Roanan noticed other people coming out into the fields to start their chores. Worship must be over, he thought to himself, scoffing. The woods came up to them and they started to search for the light-reflecting object. The grass looked trampled at the edge of the trees, all of the wheat flowing in the same direction.

            “What are we looking for, brother?” Aleks asked.

            “I saw a glare, red in color, and very bright.”

            “It looks as if something came through here, like an army.”

            Aleks’ mind flashed back to the flashes of light over the sea and the words his grandfather spoke many times.

            They are getting closer.

            “Do you remember all those stories grandfather told about the war? About the invasions of the armies scouring the countryside?” Aleks said. “Do you think this might be them?”

            “Our town is halfway ‘round the world from either army’s nation. I doubt that it would be them,” Roanan said back.

            Aleks’ eye caught a flash of sun, a red glow that made him squint. He raised his arm to cover his eyes as he stood up and headed towards the object. Roanan ran past him, and dug in the grass. A small piece of metal caught his eye, laying out in the open, it was a deep crimson color, and it was curled around a piece of cloth. Roanan picked it up and examined it.

            “I take back what you said, brother, about the armies.”

            The two eyed the object; it was heavy, five plated fingers around a mesh glove, a decaled wrist cuff with rough leather straps, blood red in color, there was grass wedged between the links of chain.

            “It’s a gauntlet, nice work too, fire-forged, definitely not from around here, brother,” Roanan said.

            “Pyron,” Aleks said, the dark red color was distinctive of the southern-most enemy.

            They both looked down the pathway of grass, all heading in one direction. This must have been the sounds I heard last night. Aleks thought. They are getting closer.

            “This is very wrong,” Roanan said. He thought to himself on what to do. His grandfather had been right all along; the armies are in revolution, invading countless towns and fields to take what they need for their own selfish purposes. And if they were this close, their hometown of Pilant would be next. “We must see for ourselves what is going on.”

            “But what can we do?” Aleks said back. “This land belongs to the Beckett’s; we should notify the lord of the house, and the town officers. They will know what to do.”

            “All they will do is sit in their adorned white building and pray to some god for guidance and assistance. We cannot just sit by. Come on.” He started off in the direction the crops pointed. Roanan held the armored glove as he walked, inspecting it for any insignia or trademarks that could be recognized. Aleks followed hesitantly, he knew that once they discovered something, if they discovered anything, they would be completely helpless. Roanan was always like this, though, quick to take action without thinking clearly.

            The path diverged into the trees and became smaller the farther they went into the wood. Aleks noticed footprints in the mud and grass and assumed there to be about ten people to come through the area. The footsteps were bigger and all looked the same, a uniform appearance. He guessed it was a group of men, armored, out on patrol, or training. He saw the gauntlet in Roanan’s hands and imagined what the whole suit were to look like. Very elaborate and detailed crimson metal from head to toe, definitely and impressive sight. Though he didn’t want to, he believed what Roanan and his grandfather said about the armies. They were invading, and getting closer and greedier every day. He had a feeling he would know what the suites of armor would look like soon.

            The wood began to slope up a large hill. The path they were following had disappeared and there was no way to see which way they had gone. It was becoming increasingly harder to travel; the trees were grasping at them with outstretched arms and the undergrowth seemed impossible to wade through.

            “How far are we going to venture out, brother?” Aleks asked, looking back through a gap in the trees and seeing the rooftops of the city behind them on a backdrop of a darkening sky. “We don’t even know if anything will be here anymore.”

            “To the clearing just up the hill. If we don’t see anything from there, then we turn back. If we don’t see them, then they’re too far away to do anything tonight. The town will be safe.”

            They came upon the clearing, a tall grassy knoll jutting up from out of the trees, and took the last hikes towards the top. As they neared the crest, Roanan got on his stomach and crawled the rest of the way to peek over the edge. Aleks did the same. This high up, the air seemed lighter and the gusts of wind were much more intense. The sun could be seen, getting lower with every passing moment. Aleks rarely came up to the clearing, but it was an impressive sight. He looked back again; the sea could be seen now, a sea of water on one side, and a sea of trees on the other. As he looked out towards the west, nothing could be seen but trees, as far as the eye could see; some mountains dotted the horizon farther off. The land of Canonal Woods was true to its name, most every part of this region was blanketed with forest. The brothers scanned their surroundings.

            Roanan was looking intensely, trying to spot any sign of intruders; smoke, movement, anything. After a long while, he seemed satisfied that nobody else was there. His forearms ached from where he was perched in the grass, and his front was covered in dirt. He looked over at his brother, who had given up looking and now lied on his back, staring at the sky. Roanan looked upwards; the early stars where starting to poke their way through the orange sky, welcoming night.

            “Aye, let us get back to the village, brother,” Roanan said, standing up, “nothing else is with us tonight.”

            The walk back down seemed easier; they had carved a path through the woods on the way up and now walked in their same footsteps, and soon they were back in the fields headed towards their home. The city was just as barren as when they had left, people had already retired to their homes for the night. The day seemed to have gone by rather quickly; it must have taken them longer than either of them realized to travel to the clearing. We wasted a whole day’s labor. If we weren’t behind already, we sure are now. Roanan thought of the cart they had left in the field, half full. People would be wondering where we went off too.

            They reached their home and went inside. Nothing else could be done for the day, so they readied themselves for bed.

            “We must be up before daybreak if we’re to make up for our lost hours today,” Roanan said.

            “We didn’t have to go up there ourselves,” Aleks said back. “We should have informed the Beckett’s and the town’s lord.”

            Roanan tossed the gauntlet onto the floor beside his bed, which made a metallic thunk resonate about the room. Roanan removed his dirty clothes and crawled into bed. “I will show them the glove on the morrow; but we will talk about this later, get some rest, brother.”

            Aleks followed his brother’s example and got into bed, and as usual, had trouble falling asleep. He laid there for a while, listening to the sound of his breathing, and the noises of breathe coming from Roanan, who had already dosed off. After a while, those sounds became the reason for his sleeplessness, so he got out of bed, threw on a shirt, and went downstairs. He found a match by the candle in the main room and struck it. He held the small flame to the wick as a soft glow came about the room. He decided he was hungry and went into the cellar to find a scrap of food. Bread and an apple seemed appealing for this late of hour. He plopped onto the couch and ate, staring at the ceiling as he shoved a chunk of bread into his mouth.

            A faint knock at the door woke him from his solitude. He sat up, and looked over the back of the sofa towards the door. He wondered who it could be. There was another knock, and another.

            He ran to the bottom of the stairs and shouted for his brother, and went to the window by the door to peer out through the wavy pane. The night made it hard to make out the shape at their front door. It appeared to be a woman, all in white. Another knock. Aleks went to the door, and after a deep breath, opened it a crack and looked out. It was Marias.

            “You best put that light out, boy,” she said, pushing herself into the room. She staggered over to the candle and blew it out. Roanan came bolting down the stairs, pulling on a pair of braies, his chest was heaving. When he saw Aleks standing there with the old woman, he became irate.

            “You had me worried, Keil. What’s all this about?”

            She turned to Roanan, “And you, son, should get dressed, you two must leave. They have come to Pilant.”

            Roanan shuffled past her to the door, looked down the street both ways and closed the door behind him. The two stared at her. “What do you mean?” Aleks asked. “Did something happen, Marias?”

            Fright shined in her eyes.

“I didn’t want to believe it myself, about the soldiers. Your grandfather had mentioned it to me once before and I thought nothing of it, but they’re here. Pyron men, just down the road. I awoke to the sound of them breaking into my neighbor’s house, and I saw fire. I watched them come up to my doorstep and they let themselves in, they were searching, they was, for recruits. They were young men, a little older than yourselves, and they were asking me all sorts of questions. They wanted to meet my husband and wanted to know of my sons and grandsons. Now, you both know I’ve been a widow twenty some years, and motherless a lot longer, they had no right to be doing that to me. Oh, my poor nerves!”

“Come, sit down, ma’am, it’s quite all right,” Roanan said.

“Eh, sure it is, what would they expect from a frail old lady. Now, you two’s really must leave, or hide, they’re headed this way.”

The brothers looked at each other, shocked.

“We cannot just leave, Marias, this is our home, our life!” Aleks said.

She was upset; she stood up and grabbed Roanan by the shirt collar. “Now you listen here, boy! Too many times have I seen young men I care about be taken away from me. Last I talked to your grandfather, I told him I would watch over you.” She looked at Roanan too. “Now, get upstairs and pack your things; I’ll make you some food. You must be on your way in a few moments time.” She let go of Aleks’ shirt, tears were welling in her eyes; she slid past him into the food cellar. “GO!” she said again.

Roanan came up to Aleks and gently pushed him in the direction of the stairs. “Let’s do what she says.”

It was dark, but neither of them dared to strike a match. Roanan found a strapped bag and tossed it to his brother, who started throwing clothes into it. He then grabbed a burlap bag for himself and the first thing he packed away was the crimson gauntlet. He did not know why, but a feeling inside urged him not to leave it behind. He piled clothes on top of it, and finally walked over to the chest in the corner and dug inside to find his picture of Elisabell and the small white pillow.

Aleks walked over to the window and looked out. Marias was right about the fire; a soft orange glow could be seen above the rooftops to the east. Looks like dawn. “We should get moving.”

            Roanan dressed and the two went downstairs. Marias greeted them at the bottom and handed them a sack full of food. “You mustn’t go out the front. Sneak out the back and go into the woods. You must go north, find your grandfather before he returns here. You must escape.” She escorted them to their grandfather’s room. “Out there,” she pointed to the small window on the back wall.

            Aleks walked over to the main room and grabbed a log from the hearth to break the window open. He lunged the log into the window, which cracked under the pressure; he threw it a second time with more force. The window shattered, and he broke off the remaining pieces of glass that hung onto the edge of the frame. Roanan came up and tossed the bags out onto the grass. He looked back at the old woman, and hugged her.

            “Thank you, ma’am,” he said.

            “No thanks. I’m just keeping a promise for a loved one,” she said. Roanan smiled at her, then grabbed Aleks and told him to go. Aleks put his foot through the window and ducked his head down below the frame. He jumped down onto the grass and fresh early dew crunched beneath his feet. He picked up the bags and waited for Roanan to climb out. The two looked back through the broken window one last time at Marias, who nodded back at them before leaving through the front door. Roanan turned and placed his hand on the outside wall to his right. He looked around the corner of the building; no sign of movement. They only had a small stretch of field to cover until they were under the trees, safe. The glow of the growing fire gave them enough light to make their escape.

            His brother joined him, “Now is as good a time as any, brother,” Aleks said, looking once more around the corner before he started to run, Roanan following behind him, his pack bouncing at his side as he ran. They climbed over the fence that divided their grandfather’s land, and darted to the woods, bounding across the fields that, once golden, looked gray and dull in the darkness.

            The trees came up upon them and wrapped their arms overhead, hiding them from prying eyes. They looked back at their house. Aleks heard a woman’s voice, barely audible, coming from the street in town, followed by a lower voice, a man’s voice, muffled. “Marias, she’s in trouble.”

            “She will be fine; she knew what she was getting into before she stepped out of her house to come to ours.”

            A distinctive slap filled the air, followed by a woman wailing, followed by repeated strikes. Aleks closed his eyes, unable to make any sound, stunned by what he was hearing. Who could hurt an old woman? Roanan could not sit around and listen any more. He grabbed Aleks by the sleeve and pulled, dragging him behind as he made his way farther into the woods, not knowing where to go. Not knowing what to do next.

Author's Note

Some of my chapters get a bit lengthy... Apologies. But I hope you enjoy! let me know what you think!

Reviews

[Christoph Poe]

Are you still working on this?

[Aleks Edwin]

I am! It's a slow process, but its coming along! I've got 10 chapters posted and am working on chapter 11 and going back through and editing everything. I try to chip at it a little whenever I have time, lol. How about you? hows 'Ecclesia' coming along?!

[Christoph Poe]

Well, it's not bad at all. Your first paragraph is catchy, and that's a huge plus. I think there's a market for this somewhere.

A few things I noticed, and these are mainly mechanical issues. You give us some useless details.

"...the ocean was right behind him...."

You give too much, if that makes sense. We don't need to know that the ocean is directly behind your character. If he's looking at the city, and "the ocean is roaring", then your readers should have enough common sense to know that the ocean is probably behind him or in close proximity. Don't assume your readers to be ignorant. Find that balance in between. :)

You use a lot of sentence fragments. I use them too, intentionally, but I rearranged them into segments of poetry. It's a bit of a break from the actual writing. I really don't know if that will be frowned upon by the publishers though. It's only an idea if your willing to use it! Fragments sometimes sound better than complete sentences.

Anyways, it is a very good first start. I've come across many that were just terrible, and they needed heaps of work. You're a lot further ahead than others. Just remember that writers make themselves; writers aren't 'born'.

Take care,
--Christoph Poe

[Aleks Edwin]

Thank you for the review, I appreciate it! I am definitely a huge fan of constructive criticism, so I will take what you said to heart and watch the sentence fragments and useless information. You're the best, Christoph!

[Christoph Poe]

No problem! Like I said, you've got a great start. I'll be back someone to give a few more thoughts. My reviews are a little deeper than this, and I think I owe you something deeper! I can tell you've put a lot of time and effort into this. :)