Immortal
Page 1
IMMORTAL
Lacy Armendariz
Copyright © 2013 Lacy Armendariz
All rights reserved.
ISBN:
ISBN-13:
DEDICATION
Dedicated to the child inside us all
CONTENTS
Troll Bridge
THE GRANDFATHER TREE
THE VILLAGE
A STORY BETWEEN FRIENDS
THE SON OF COVE
SHE’S A WITCH!
A LITTLE TOO LATE
HERE GOES NOTHING
A THIEF IN THE HOUSE
THE ISLAND
WILL YOU—NAME MY HORSE?
THE WEDDING
Troll Bridge
Staysia walked along the narrow pathway, underneath the tall Gale trees, accompanied by her unicorn. The vines from the Kuxy plants wrapped around the trees and curled along the ground of the otherwise mossy forest. Flowers grew along the pathway; perfectly aligned, colorful pebbles bordered each side. It was daytime and it was a beautiful day.
Staysia, hair of fire, eyes of gold, held her breath as she crept underneath the Troll Bridge. The trolls could smell the breath of a human and Staysia wasn’t in the mood for troubling with the cheeky creatures. Ah—but it was too late.
Just beneath the bridge stood a troll with his hands on his hips and a smirk upon his face. Staysia knew she had been caught trying to sneak under his bridge and he was not in the least bit happy with her.
“Who goes there? Foreigner! Speak! Speak up you territorial hoarder. You lover of the fairies and enemy of mine!” shouted the troll.
Staysia took in a deep breath and rolled her eyes. “Tis I!” She huffed and sighed, casually holding her sword in her hand.
“Where are you going? Why do you cross under my bridge?”
“I am not here for my own satisfaction. In fact, if I'd have had it my way I would have danced through the Valley of the Songbirds or gone for a swim with the fish women of Stoney Island. I would have even clambered up the Wall of Skulls. I am in a hurry and I have no time for this—what is it that you want?”
“Hmm . . .” He rubbed his red, scruffy beard and walked around Staysia and her magical horse of white, studying both of them with his walnut shaped green colored eyes. “Dressed for battle, are ya?”
Staysia looked down at her attire. She wore a leather halter top and a vest on her upper half. Below, she had on pants made of leather and a sword at her hip. “Every day is a battle for each of us, troll,” she replied.
“Yes, but I know a human looking for trouble when I see one. You are most certainly a human looking for trouble. What sort of trouble are you looking fer, Hmm?”
“What is it that you want from me?”
“Where did you acquire such a fine looking horned horse?” he asked her. “Did ya steal him, hmm? Did ya?”
Staysia stroked the mane of her unicorn as she spoke. “She was a gift from my father.” She smiled and ran her finger across the unicorn’s eyelashes, then moved her eyes back to the troll who stood staring up at her. “Now, if there is nothing more I will be on my way.” Staysia stuck her sword back in its place and began to walk past the troll.
“Oh no, ya don’t! I require fifty shekels for passing under my bridge.” He glared at her with his lip curled and one eye squeezed shut.
“It is fifty shekels that you are after, yet you know I would be a fool to carry it along with me.”
He folded his arms up high across his chest. “Then gimme your horse.”
“I’m not giving you my unicorn.” She opened a small bag made from fig leaves that hung from her belt and pulled out a small yellow stone. She held it in the palm of her hand.
The troll shifted to his tip toes and gazed at the stone. “What is it?” he asked. She placed it in his stubby hand.
“Take it.”
“What does it do?” His eye widened.
“If you use it right, it will bring you great things.”
“You may go,” said the troll, as he studied her face. He raised his finger at her as she began to walk away. “Don’t you come back now, ya hear?” Staysia walked on without acknowledging him.
“You hear what I said? I don’t want you trying to sneak underneath my bridge anymore!”
Just then the pair heard voices and footsteps trailing across the bridge.
“Who is strolling across—” the troll began.
Staysia turned around quickly and held her hand over the troll’s mouth. She took him deeper underneath the bridge where there was a tiny living area that was just the troll’s size.
“Quiet, troll,” she whispered. He wiggled and tried to cut loose from her clutch. Staysia held him tighter. He kicked her in the shin and stood athwart her.
“Tis my bridge they are—” he stopped to listen to the voices.
“Let’s throw him over the bridge!”
“Is he dead?”
“’Course he’s dead!”
Staysia and the troll listened intently. “Who are they tossing over my bridge?” the troll asked carefully. Staysia shook her head and shushed the paranoid troll.
With a thud, a large gunny sack hit the ground.
Staysia listened until the voices and footsteps trailed off far from them. She crept towards the sack and untied the rope that held it shut. A crown of black, wavy hair was what she saw first. She folded the sack down and looked at a handsome young man’s face. A very handsome young man’s face; everything about him was gorgeous, from the hair on his head to the cleft in his chin, his dark eyebrows and perfectly structured face. He was entirely handsome.
She wanted to fold the sack down further and see the rest of him, but didn’t for fear he would awaken and see her. Besides, the troll was watching her closely.
“He’s dead! They’ve hurled the body of a dead man over my bridge!” said the disgruntled troll. “Get him out of here!”
Staysia leaned close and held her cheek over the man’s mouth and nose. She shook her head. “He’s still alive.” The man was breathing, but he was out cold. Staysia dragged him under the bridge. “Get this man some water.”
“You’re no friend of mine, human. Get your own water!”
“Look, he could die if we don’t help him. Why is it that you trolls hate humans so much?”
“Can’t swallow if he’s passed out anyhow.”
“Fine! If you won’t help me I will do it myself. You’re an evil little troll, you know that?”
“Bah,” the troll grumbled as he made his way under the bridge to his cupboard. He grabbed a cup and glared at Staysia as he walked passed her and hobbled to the stream.
Staysia took this time to gaze at the perfectly structured face of the man. She didn’t take her eyes away until she heard footsteps coming her way. It was a trio of trolls.
“Human! There’s a human under our bridge!” said a female troll.
“Get her!”
Three short and stout trolls ran towards her. Staysia quickly slashed the stem of a plush Nero flower and placed it under the man’s head. Nero flowers were large flowers oft used as pillows. She smiled down at him and turned her attention to the three small creatures.
She held her sword eye level at the trolls. The troll who led the other two held his arms in front of each of them and they came to a halt, stumbling over one another. Their jaws dropped as they stood staring, wide eyed and fearful.
They weren’t looking at Staysia and her gorgeous sword. They were looking beyond her at a creeper who wallowed their way. The creeper’s front legs were shorter than his hind legs. He had spikes down his spine. He had husks that jutted out from each side of his mouth. His head stayed low to the ground; his tail whipped from side to side and his eyes were red and furious.
Staysia took her stand
before the dominant beast and lunged forward, knees bent. One hand clutched her sword. The other was placed gently on her hip.
“Come any closer and I’ll use it!” she warned, waving her sword in the air as she walked in a circle.
“It isn’t you I crave. Move out of the way so I may sink my teeth into one of those juicy and tender companions of yours!” the creeper growled.
“Companions?” Staysia looked over her shoulder at the trolls, who trembled and held on to each other tightly. They nodded their heads. “Yes, we are your companions!” one of them said in fear.
Staysia looked into the eyes of the creeper. “I guess I can’t let you eat them then, can I?”
“You wish to battle with me? Ha!” The creeper made a circle around her. She turned her body around with him awaiting his next move.
The troll who retrieved water for the man appeared behind the monster and stood in awe. His hand trembled and water splashed from the cup. He took a long sip and stood close to the other three. Staysia glanced back at them, then at the man.
The man blinked his eyes and sat upright. He held his fingers over his temples, squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. He looked Staysia’s way and rose to his feet. Unarmed, he hunched down and crept towards the creeper.
Staysia smoothed her clothing with her hand and ran her fingers through her hair, forgetting about the creeper.
“Hi there!” She smiled wide and batted her eyes at him. She stuck her sword in the ground and leaned toward it on one side. Just then, the creeper hissed and snapped at her.
The man tackled the slimy, black creature and turned to his side. He held his hand against his cheek, his elbow resting against the creeper, his ankles crossed.
He held his free hand out to Staysia. “Gabriel of Gnome Hills, and you are?”
She said nothing. She just smiled. The creeper snapped and snarled.
“Could one of you please grab me a vine?” Gabriel asked.
The trolls said nothing. “Get him a vine!” Staysia demanded them.
Staysia recalled what her mother had told her. She had told her that she would know when she found true love. She told her that he would have hair of black as was Gabriel’s hair. His eyes would glimmer as did Gabriel’s eyes. She had told a young Staysia that she would feel a certain feeling that she had never felt before. That was exactly what she was feeling. Kind of like a tickle, but more like a fire.
Her mother had told her this long ago, when Staysia was twelve. She was now eighteen and had never imagined she would be alone in this world at her age. She had watched her parents get murdered in cold blood.
An attack had been made on the people of Caydence. The victors were from Gnome Hills. Staysia was headed there to avenge the death of her parents.
“Gnome Hills? You mean you are from Gnome Hills?” Her face turned grim as she flashed her sword before him. “Is it you who killed my mother and father?”
“I told you, I know a human looking for troubles when I see one!” the troll pronounced, as he handed the vine to Gabriel.
“Quiet you!” she screamed.
“I have killed no one!” Gabriel promised, as he wrapped the vine around the alligator-like mouth of the creeper.
“Is that so?” She reached into the small sack around her waist and pulled out a tooth. “This is the tooth of the man who killed my parents!” Gabriel stuck his fingers inside his cheeks and showed her all of his teeth.
Staysia studied them carefully and placed the tooth back in her sack. “I will find the owner of this tooth and when I do I will kill him! So, you are not the killer of my parents. Who are you? Relatives of his? A friend then? Are you a friend of the one who has taken their lives?”
“No,” is all he could say.
“I know not.” She stared into his eyes.
“I am not going to kill this creature,” he said, looking down at the creeper. “I do not spill the blood of a roaming beast and you have actually taken thought that I am the killer of your family or that I know of the killer and have befriended him?”
“I do not know you.” She looked away.
“I think you should get rid of that creeper!” said one of the trolls.
“What are your names, trolls?” Staysia asked.
“Jasper,” said the troll who held the cup.
“Ruby.” The female troll batted her eyes. “This is Turritella and Unakite.” She pointed a finger at the other two as she introduced them to Staysia and Gabriel.
There is a magical story behind all trolls. Some are giants who live in caves, with hunchbacks and long and lanky bodies. They have tails and wear vines that are sometimes mistaken for snakes draped around their large bodies. There are trolls who are drifters. They make their way from town to town as nothing but thieves who despise all other creatures. There are tiny trolls who live under rocks, these trolls patronize the fairies and eat slugs and other bugs. There are Sea trolls who stake out the sea from caves and eat lobster and crab.
These four trolls that Staysia encountered are mischievous midgets known as Bridge trolls. These kinds of trolls had been ousted from society. Maybe this is why they are so very territorial; guarding their bridges day in and day out.
The male trolls wore straw vests and hats. They wore boots made from snakeskin. Their shirts and pants were made from leaves. The female trolls made their attire from an assortment of flowers that looked like silk. Their tiny shoes were made from lady bug shells, and they wore tiny bonnets made from dragonfly wings.
“Nice ta meet ya!” Gabriel grinned and held out his hand to the trolls. The creeper swung his snout around and nudged Gabriel’s leg. The trolls shook his hand, except for Jasper.
“You mustn’t leave the creeper the way he is. What do you plan to do with him?” Jasper asked.
“He will have to learn a lesson from this. He won’t go far with his mouth tied shut the way it is now. Worry not, I am known for taming wild beasts!” Gabriel grinned broadly, showing a mouth full of teeth. He stuck out his chest and placed his hands on his hips.
“Both you and the girl need to go someplace other than under this bridge. You can’t stay here and try to teach this monster about manners,” Jasper snorted.
“Why mustn’t they?” asked Ruby. “They have saved us from getting swallowed up!”
“Yes, yes it’s true Jasper.” Unikite nodded his head in agreement. Turritella, on the other hand, rubbed his chin and laughed low. He hobbled his way underneath the bridge.
“I—” Gabriel stared at the ground in front of him, and then he rubbed the top of his head.
“You what? Don’t you have some place to go?” Staysia asked him.
“Well—” He folded his hands behind his head. “I am thought to be a dead man. I can go where I please if you want to get technical about it.”
“Take the creeper with you!” Jasper shook his finger at the creeper, who foamed at the mouth and whipped his head around violently.
“You will teach the creeper a lesson, Jasper.”
“I will not!” Jasper crossed his arms and glared at Gabriel.
“Well, I will not kill it!” Gabriel proclaimed.
“I would love to stay and chat but I must begin my journey.” Staysia began to walk away.
“Wait!” Gabriel ran up to Staysia and walked beside her. “May I help you get to Gnome Hills?”
It wasn’t that Gnome Hills was a great distance away. It was the obstacles that blockaded the town. It was the Giant Serpent of the Rock Mass. It was the Ogre of Death’s Grip. It was the Village of the Dark Ladies who were witches that would woo the men of towns near and far under their binding spells. They would cause a great desire to come over the men and use them to fulfill their selfish needs.
“No, you may not,” she said solemnly.
“I know my way around Gnome Hills quite well. I can be of help to you,” he said. “I can help you get there as well.”
“I cannot trust a man who is from Gnome Hills, I cannot.”
Staysia stopped and crossed her arms. “The answer is no. Please, go get that beast out of the troll’s sight.”
“Have it your way.” Gabriel walked back to the bridge. Staysia began her journey alone.
The Grandfather Tree
The morning was bright and colorful. Fields of greenery flooded the hills and valleys. The sun was large and round; a pumpkin shade of orange. Pink clouds were floating throughout the sky. Tiny chirping sounds came from the trees as mother birds flew in and out of their nests. Staysia could smell the flowers and see the beauty of the forest, but something was missing in her heart. That something was her mother and her father.
Staysia could hear her mother’s voice in her head; she could see her mother’s face. A blue blanket spread across the green grass. Staysia could see herself as a child. Her mother lay beside her. They looked into the sky and watched the clouds take shape of the creatures around them and that of creatures unknown; the ones that they had imagined together. She could hear her mother’s laughter. In her mind, she could see them laughing together. She remembered running into her father’s arms when he would return home from town. She recalled the way he smelled and the warmth of his embrace.
She recalled the memories they had together as she grew older. Her mother spoke to her about love and womanhood. Her father on the other hand, was very protective of her. Watching her grow into such a beautiful woman made him a bit nervous. Of course, no man is ever good enough for a girl’s father.
Her parents were the type who would take her out on fishing trips in the middle of the night. Not just when she was a girl, it didn’t matter how old she was; she would never be too old for a fishing trip or a picnic in the forest with her parents and neither were they. They were young and strong at heart.
Their voices, their laughter; everything came to her mind. She remembered her father’s large, warm hands. She remembered her mother’s long red hair. If only she could have them back, if only they wouldn’t have been killed for no good reason at all.