Some short stories. #1

• #vytheVythe's first day.</a>
  From Vythe's POV. His first day as Head of Security for the Graders. Still unfinished, so it's not quite canon/official (yet).
• #ketchupKetchup Burglar</a>
  Not Ramath-related, but a weird little story about stealing ketchup packages.
• #koanijanKoani at Janardan</a>
  Aw, Koani when she's little. It's when her parents make her transfer to Janardan. More of an intro to her character (as a young'in/teenager) than anything. Ooo, the mysterious blue liquid...

I've got more of these if people are interested. I'm never really sure where to post them, so they usually just end up living in my LiveJournal. :x

<a name="vythe">[h2]Vythe's first day[/h2]</a>
<div style="line-height: 250%;">Even though on the outside I knew I looked calm and collected, inside I was nervous. This was not my first time being in the presence of the Arch Magos Zamfir Grader. He had always been like a father figure to me. I respected him greatly. When my own dad passed away, he was there to support and aid my mother in her grief. There were even a few that suspected him of having an affair with her. However, these were only rumours. You get used to ignoring rumours in my business. My mother loved Zamfir of course, but he was sworn and forever devoted to his wife, Karryasa. He didn't sleep around, nor did my mother.
So why was I nervous? Well you see, my mother was retiring. Previously she had been one of Zamfir Grader's elite personal guards. Now, with her injuries and age hindering her, she felt that it was time to step down and retire. This is where I naturally come in, you see. I was to be my mother's successor.
This job, no, this honour, did not just randomly fall into my lap. I'm a Vidallyn. The Vidallyns have long since served and worked alongside the Graders. Our families go back together a long ways. The Vidallyns are protectors. It's my duty to protect those around me.
It was this that Zamfir was talking to me about as we walked casually together in the gardens. He was sad that my mother was leaving his side, but at the same time he seemed almost rejuvenated by the prospect of having me. Fresh blood.
“You'll have to make some tough decisions, Vythe," he said to me as we walked along. “Sometimes they will go against your very instincts." In the distance I could hear the laughter of some little girls. “I trust you though, just as I trust your mother, Synachi'ba."
“Thank you, Arch Magos, sir," I replied, keeping my tone low.
“That's the first thing we'll remedy. You may refer to me as Arch Magos or Zamfir'ba in public, but in private, you may call me whatever you wish."
I stared at him for a moment before I realized that I was staring. It was hard for me to swallow. You see, you don't exactly call a world leader by their first name. It seemed wrong. It took me a moment to realize it, but Zamfir was offering me more than just a job. He was offering companionship; he was offering to be my friend.
“Thank you. I'll try, sir. Though I believe it'll take some getting used to," I said with a smile. For the time being my nervousness had disappeared. I felt confident again. Is it possible to be empowered simply by someone's presence? It must be. It was almost as if I were feeding off of Zamfir's energies and his strength was somehow flowing into me. We continued to walk through the garden, making small talk now. My mother had never spoken much of her job – she had been sworn to secrecy. Now I was to be sworn as well.
Zamfir had company over at the moment. The Grader manor was always full of new characters it seemed. Right then his eldest daughter, Koani, and her family were visiting. I've always had a bit of a thing for Koani. This was something that even Zamfir was aware of. Unfortunately, her and I just didn't seem meant to be. Besides, what sort of wretched scoundrel would I be if I tried to infringe on her life now? She was married after all, had a husband, and had three beautiful looking children. I guess old flames just take a long time to die out.
It was her two girls that I could hear, playing and laughing as they raced around in the garden. I knew that Koani would be holding her youngest, Cayson, a boy, and a very clingy and moody one at that. Having finished our talk, Zamfir and I headed back to the veranda where everyone else was conversing. Sitting at a table and looking mildly distracted as she gazed off into space was Zamfir's wife, Karryasa. Looking back at this now, I really should have asked her what was on her mind. Sitting beside Karryasa was Koani, and as expected, her little boy was curled up in her lap with his fists gripping her skirt tightly. Saber, Koani's husband, sat beside the two of them, and as Zamfir and I approached, he stood up to greet us. It was a pretty well known fact that Zamfir wasn't entirely fond of Saber, and so, it seemed as if Saber was constantly trying to please the old Grader.
“Oh, Vythe. It's good to see you around. I heard it's your first day," Saber said to me with a smile. I've never been a really violent guy, but for some reason I wanted to hit him. He was a nobody after all. His family, the Lapices, only had a small strain of nobility in them. Not only that, but most of them were simply scholars or busy bodies who didn't realize the full potential of Fronima. They were simply content to sit on their asses and spin theories until they got long in the tooth. However, my real dislike for Saber stemmed from jealousy. It wasn't hard for me to figure that one out.
“Yeah, it is my first day. It's good to see you too, Saber." It was a lie. I knew it was a lie. Saber knew it was a lie. In fact, everyone around me knew it was a lie. Still, whatever tension that had been in the air previously seemed to have let up a little. Zamfir and I sat down with the rest of them. We started talking. I can't remember exactly what was said. Small talk is the sort of stuff that only stays in your brain for a short amount of time. What I do remember is Koani suddenly interrupting the conversation.
“Mom?" she asked, looking with fearful eyes at Karryasa. It was apparent from Koani's voice and her demeanour that something wasn't quite right. Karryasa either didn't hear Koani, or had heard her and had chosen to ignore her. I looked at Zamfir in order to try and see what he made of it. Zamfir's facial expression was stoic though. I could gain no insight from him. Instead I turned to Koani.
“Koani... what is it? What's wrong?" I asked her as I leaned forward on the table. Things were starting to happen a little too quickly for my liking. Saber placed his hand on Koani's shoulder, trying to console her. He was every bit as confused as I was.
“Mr. Vidallyn. Vythe, I... I can feel it. Something horrible, something is... Mom!" This time Koani shouted. Cayson, who had been sleeping quietly in her lap, awoke and was now starting to cry. Karryasa finally appeared to snap back into reality. She had been in a far away place it seemed. Still, she offered no words. She only looked at Koani with that same vacant expression before frowning.
It was then that we heard a gun shot followed by a high pitched scream. Immediately I knew what had happened. My mind cried out in alarm: the girls in the garden!
“Vythe," Zamfir said levelly to me. I needed no further spurring. I leapt to my feet, knocking the chair down in the process, and dashed in the direction of the garden. Behind me I could hear Koani give a strangled gasp and then break into sobs.
I was half way there when I noticed that I was being followed. It was Saber. The idiot fool. If he was smart he'd stay out of the way. It wasn't too long before we came upon the scene of the crime. One of Koani's girls, her eldest, had taken a head shot. Right between the eyes. The other daughter was clinging to the body, alive and apparently uninjured. Tears were flowing down her cheeks. Behind me I could almost feel Saber's heart stop as he saw what I had just seen. I felt really sorry for him then. I'd be a jerk, heartless scum, if I didn't. His daughter was dead. This was my first day of Head of Security. Was this... was this my fault then? I was supposed to be the protector. I wasn't allowed to let things like this happen. I had failed.
I left Saber to tend to his surviving girl. I had a mission now and this mission's name was vengeance. It was pretty easy to see where the killer had shot from. I sprinted off in the general direction. I'm not sure if I was moving unnaturally fast, if they killer was being slow on purpose, or if they simply thought that no one would follow them... whatever the case, I caught up with the gunman quickly. When he heard my approach, he whirled around and fired several shots at me using a small hand gun. I deflected these easily, much to his surprise, with a small shield seemingly made from the air. The bullets bounced off and fell uselessly to the ground. I pulled out one of my own guns and caught him in his left leg. The man stumbled, but continued to move. I fired another. This time I slowed him significantly to a shambling pace. It was then that I caught up and tackled the monster to the ground. I kept him pinned as I relieved him of his guns. Then, when I was certain that I had him completely in my power, I leaned close to his face.
“Who sent you?" I hissed, amazed by just how menacing my words sounded.
“I can't tell you... Vythe," the man said to me, with not a single drop of fear in his voice. The fact that he somehow knew my name almost threw me into a complete rage. Yet I held tightly onto my temper, as well as the culprit.
“You're going to die you know," I replied, not bothering to mask the anger in my voice.
“I know," he replied smoothly. “I'm prepared for death. It is my destiny. Fronima awaits me. If you do not kill me, he will." By “he" I knew that the killer meant Zamfir. Yes, there was no doubt in my mind that Zamfir would tear this atrocity limb from limb.
“Tell me. Who," I demanded, my words punctuated by snarls.
“I won't. Any attempts to get it out of me will be futile and in vain. So kill me now, Vythe. Kill me or let Zamfir do the dirty work. You or him, it doesn't matter." The attackers words were so calm and collected that I could feel the fury in me reaching a new height. I shot him again. This time in the chest, though it wasn't exactly a kill shot. He sputtered and I could see a bloody film begin to line his lips.
“You gonna... play with me now? Huh? Dirty... fucker." His words now had a bit of a rasp to them and he had lost a little of his cockiness. I was pleasantly pleased by this.
“Talk," I demanded again. “Tell me who."
“It's no use," he said, coughing as he choked on his own blood. I could have drawn it out more. I could have interrogated him. Tortured him. I could have tried to make him talk. Yet something inside of me was agreeing with the bastard – it was no use. I wasn't going to get any useful information out of this guy. With an infuriated sigh of resignation, I lined my gun up with his forehead and fired.
The next thing I did was search his body. I wasn't expecting to find anything, and I didn't. Even his gun was unmarked and not traceable. Everything about him was a dead end. I left the body where it was and took my time as I walked back toward the veranda. The girl's body was no longer in the garden. Someone had picked it up, although blood still littered the ground. How long had I been gone for?
As I approached the veranda, it was empty... save for one lone figure. Zamfir was waiting for my return. There was something about his gaze that made my mind go for a bit of a trip just then. Had this been my initiation? Was it possible that he himself had hired the hit on his granddaughter? Was he cruel? Would he really do something like that to his own family? I never did find out. Nor did I ever accuse Zamfir of it. He trusted me. He trusted me with his life and with his secrets. I wouldn't fail him. Not again.</div>

<a name="ketchup">[h2]Ketchup Burglar[/h2]</a>
<div style="line-height: 250%;">I suppose it was having a bad chest that turned me into an observer, a watcher, at an early age. Always confined to the sidelines, I was forced to watch others with envy as they ran about the field and had fun playing games. Never did I learn the joys of belonging to a sports team or even come close to feeling real exhilaration. Exertion of any sort puts me into a terrible state, you see. They say that I can die if I'm not careful (Mum certainly wouldn't want that). So I'm as careful as can be, handling myself like an imported box of fragile porcelain dishes – always right side up, with breakable contents inside. Even though I've always treated myself with the utmost care, I cannot really say the same for my classmates. Perhaps it was because they were jealous that I got to miss gym, or perhaps it was due to the fact that they found me funny looking with my distinctive nose and awkward facing ears. Whatever their problem was with me, they always seemed to go out of their way in order to make me feel uncomfortable. I was pushed to the outer regions by my peers, which only further defined my role as observer in this petty world.
So it really came as no surprise to me that I was the only one to notice the tall young man stealing packets of ketchup from a fast food restaurant that I frequent. He was an awkward looking fellow (though I suppose I'm one to talk). His back was hunched over and his neck jutted out at an angle that looked like it must have been painful. I've never really been a good judge of age, but he looked to be perhaps two, or possibly three years older than myself. I watched him from the line-up, making a mental note of his physical appearance lest I be the only one capable of giving the police an accurate description in order to apprehend this vile criminal. He was wearing a pair of light tan corduroy pants that were much too short. His socks shot out of them about a foot too early. These pants were partially covered up by his oversized dark green winter jacket. The top of his head was covered in shaggy hair of a most uninteresting dirty blond. What seemed the most interesting to me was the bag that he was holding in his left hand. It was a pretty nondescript off-white coloured sack. It was into this that he was corralling the ketchup packets into.
One by one he placed the packets into his bag until they begun to spill out. By this time I had not only placed my order, but I'd received my food as well. I probably should have mentioned the ketchup stealer to the cashier at the register. She didn't really seem like a nice woman though, so for one reason or another I withheld the information from her. Instead I slowly walked toward the ketchup culprit (he was at the condiment stand after all), holding my tray of food tightly with both of my hands. I couldn't have said right then what I intended to do. With his bag now full of ketchup, the young man was now beginning to stuff his oversized jacket with the small packets. Into his pockets they went, one by one. I set my tray down on the condiment stand. If the man noticed my presence, he made no acknowledgement. He simply continued to stuff ketchup into every orifice on his person. He was starting to shove some of them up his sleeves and into his socks. Whenever he moved, another packet or two would fall out and litter the ground.
I don't know why, but I knelt down and started to help him. I picked up a few of the fallen packets of ketchup, stuffing several of them into my own pockets as well. I'll tell you again, I don't know why I did it. I don't even like ketchup. It's disgusting, horrible over processed stuff. Seriously, why would anyone ever want so much of the damned junk? I was an accomplice now though. My actions succeeded in capturing the young man's attention for a moment. Although his hands appeared to be on autopilot, stashing ketchup away at a frightening pace, his grey eyes met mine briefly. I guess we had a moment, because he smiled at me and I smiled back. Pausing, only briefly in his actions, the man held open his jacket. I followed his gaze and peered inside. Inside there was some sort of white tube. Recognition hit me like an oncoming train. It was an inhaler. Wide-eyed now, I pulled open my jacket to show the stranger my own inhaler. It was an odd thing to do now that I think of it, but it's also pretty odd to hoard packets of ketchup as well. The man grinned then resumed his activities. I, feeling some sort of camaraderie with him, helped out with even more enthusiasm. He was a watcher like me, and this, as I slowly came to realize, was what real exhilaration felt like.</div>

<a name="koanijan">[h2]Koani at Janardan[/h2]</a>
<div style="line-height: 250%;">“I understand that you have a rather serious medical condition, Miss Grader." Dr. Dafen Armako stated as he held a small vial up to the light on his desk in order to inspect it. The vial was filled with a pale blue coloured liquid. As Dafen carefully turned the vial about in his fingers, light passed through it and created dancing shapes on the walls of the spacious office.
Dafen was a highly reputable doctor on Ramath-lehi. His surroundings were indicative of his success. In his prime he had been one of the leading specialists at Jolt Kahail, Watani's largest health and wellness facility. Now that he was a kiom and partially retired, Dafen had taken up residence at the Janardan Academy. While most of his time was spent primarily on research, Dafen also maintained a small medical practise on campus. Armed with a highly educated staff, he and his crew saw to the health and overall well-being of Janardan's inhabitants.
“It's nothing really," came Koani's swift response. Moments earlier Dr. Armako had ushered her out of the hallway and into his office. She had been at Janardan for no less than four hours and already it seemed as if she were becoming the centre of attention – the very thing that she had been dreading.
“The Arch Magos told me otherwise," Dafen retorted, a cunning intelligence gleaming in his pale orange coloured eyes.
At this Koani's eyebrows sharply rose. She wasn't usually interested in what the Arch Magos had to say. However, when it involved her, she was all ears. It wasn't often that the Arch Magos spoke to her, much less about her. “I see. What exactly did he tell you?"
“That we're supposed to take special care of you. From what I was told you have a –"
“Chemical imbalance," she supplied as she realized what the conversation was about.
“Yes, and that you almost died. This blue serum here, thasilm, acts as a stabilizer. So I'm told." As he spoke, Dafen gently shook the fluid.
Koani's lips pursed. What exactly had the Arch Magos said to Dr. Armako? It hadn't been the truth. Arch Magos Zamfir Grader didn't exactly make it his business to tell the truth. Thasilm was a popular medication used to prevent seizures. However, Koani had never had a seizure in her life, and it wasn't owed to her thasilm usage.
“So Koani, if you'll allow me, I'd like to ask you a few questions." Dafen leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on his desk and clasping his hands together. He peered over his hands as he looked expectantly at Koani.
“I don't mean to offend... but I don't feel comfortable doing that, Armako'ba. It's sort of personal, and I already have a family doctor who sees to my ah, special needs." Indeed, Koani's medical history was quite the private thing. As far as she was concerned, it would do her no good to have Dr. Armako digging into it.
“Oh no no no. I'm sorry if I put you in an awkward position. It's quite alright. I just want you to know that I've informed your teachers about your condition. So should there be any emergencies, they'll know what to do. I'll also have a supply of thasilm, if you ever happen to need it." Dafen spread out his hands in a welcoming gesture before clasping them together once more.
Koani rummaged inside her purse for a moment before pulling out a thin black case. She popped open the latch then held it open so that Armako could clearly see the contents. Inside were six small vials of blue liquid similar to the one that the doctor was handling. Alongside the vials were several sealed and neatly packaged syringes.
“Ah, looks like you're all set. I trust you can take care of yourself then."
“Yes. Thank you for your concern, Armako'ba. If that was all you wanted to talk about, may I take my leave now?"
“Certainly. Be sure to let me know if you ever need any assistance."
“I will, thank you." Koani smiled brightly at Dr. Armako as she got gracefully to her feet. She wanted to get out of there, and fast. Trying not to run, Koani headed straight for the door and made her retreat.
With the door closed now between her and Dr. Armako, Koani sighed. It could have been worse, she reasoned. He could have tried to force information out of her. She was a little worried now though. Just what was he going to tell the teachers? How was he going to phrase her alleged “special needs?" The last thing she wanted was to receive special treatment due to teachers assuming that she was delicate or broken. Koani brushed a stray strand of her long aqua coloured hair out of her face. She'd been wearing it partially up, but due to the frazzle of her evening it was starting to give in to wear and tear.
“Mhm... most likely... due to those cursed lukuo genes. Yes." It was Dr. Armako's voice. She could hear him through the door. He was talking to someone else via some communications device in his office.
Koani clenched her teeth. She had thought that Dr. Armako had been an all right guy... until she had overheard that little snippet of conversation. Not wanting to accidentally overhear anything more, Koani started marching stiffly down the corridor.
Inside she was seething. How could Dr. Armako call himself a doctor? Specially when he was prejudiced against lukuo. Cursed lukuo genes. There was no mistake that he had been referring to Koani. Koani was undeniably a lukuo in appearance.
The lukuo are a subspecies of pendragon. While they share many similarities and are genetically compatible with pendragons, there is one thing about the lukuo that sets them apart from their parent species: genetic mutations.
Generally lukuo genes are recessive. However with advancements of the pendragon race, technology, and continued breeding over the centuries, the lukuo have slowly started to bubble to the surface. Some Ramathian research institutions have labelled the lukuo gene as genetic pollution – a byproduct of hazardous technological advancements. Others have embraced it, calling the lukuo the better, more advanced and evolved, species. There was no doubt in Koani's mind which side Dr. Armako was on.
Lukuo in general are easy to identify. For the most part the gene affects the skeletal structure of what would be an otherwise normal looking pendragon. Common lukuo mutations include multiple limbs, such as having a secondary set of arms or multiple tails. Spikes, horns, and other such bony ridges are also common in a lukuo. These tend to occur near areas where the bone is already fairly close to the skin's surface – such as on the spine, skull, shoulder blades, elbows, and ankles.
Neither one of Koani's parents were lukuo. However one of them carried the gene. When Koani had been hatched, it'd chosen to manifest itself – much to her parent's dismay. As a result, their first child looked like a bit of a freak. To make matters even more tense and awkward, none of Koani's younger siblings ever showed any sign of possessing the gene. She was unique.
Starting at the top of Koani's head and trailing along down her spine to the base of her tail was a row of evenly spaced porcupine-like quills, courtesy of her lukuo gene. Each quill was between four to seven inches long and coated with thick plates of keratin. Each quill was associated with minute muscles which allow the quills to either flare out or flatten themselves against Koani's back depending upon her mood.
In addition to these quills, on each of her forearms Koani also possessed four thick spikes that curved outward and back. These were much more durable than her quills, being made out of bone. While their positioning didn't make them very practical when attacking, they were highly useful when on the defensive.</div>

 

Thankssss. Maybe something will become of them all someday. ^^;

I really like writing random storybits about characters. I've got sort of a part two for the Koani one that I might post up later on. It's about when she first meets Jaceen. :]

Ketchup is so salty. D: There are also only about eight people in the entire world that know the secret recipe for Heinz's ketchup. Whenever one of the eight dies, another person gets told the recipe. I watched one of those "how it's made" shows the other day...

 

Pictures to go with the ketchup story... well, it's more of the condense story version. This is actually part of my college homework. \o/ I love the burglar's neck. ahaha.

 

I wasn't imagining them to be anthro when I was writing it either... lol. I just wanted an excuse to draw a raccoon. Sooo quickly drawn, but that's an english assignment for you. It doesn't really matter how much time I put into things for that class, unlike my usual studios.