Back to the Present

       I must apologize to you, reader, for I missed two days this week already, and my entry today will be short. I have been trying to write both this guide book and a terribly long and tedious humanities paper that is due tomorrow. Somehow I think you will be more understanding than my humanities teacher if I give you my best effort. It will be a while before I can post regularly again, though: I also need to compile and organize the rest of my notes so I can write this blog properly. I can't just wing it, after all. I'm already doing that with my humanities paper.

      Here is a short snippet to bring you back into the present story that happened only a few months ago:

       The blue flames died down. Smoke hung thickly in the air around the trees, along with the dust from the freshly cut down tree. Angry huffs disturbed the smoke and dust as the young Faery King threw down Jinge’s long sword. “Don’t ever make me do that again!” he shouted.

       Jinge shook his head, causing smoke to curl around his ears. “You have to do it again. How else will you defeat Brand?”

       “We’ll find another way! I don’t want to kill him.”

       “You didn’t kill me.”

       “That’s because you stopped fighting back. If I was fighting Brand, we wouldn’t stop until one of us died!”

        “Just how did you expect that fight to end?” Jinge was getting angry too. “Do you expect to reason with him? Why would he start listening to you?”

       “I don’t know!” Donal sat on the ground and covered his face with his hands. “Won’t he be expecting me to use fire again?”

       “He might, but it’s still the most powerful weapon you have.”

       They fell silent. The fight seemed to be over. I let go of Ciaran’s arm. When it had looked like Donal’s life was in danger, I had grabbed his arm and shaken it in distress. The poor faery was patient with me and had patted my hand. We picked up the grocery bags again and walked out into the open. Neither Jinge nor Donal looked up. 

       Ciaran set the bags down and put his hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “I have a idea, Donal. You’re not going to like it, but I think it will work.”