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- Wingfeather Saga MemesNia, Arundelle, Artham, and Gammon just chilling in the living room Nia: I wonder what the kids are up to. thud Janner: walks into the room Nia: Janner, what was that? Janner: Kal and Maraly got into the sugar cookies. Gammon: How many did they eat? Janner: clears throat Nia: Janner Janner: Um…. All of them. Artham: I’ll get the duct tape.Like
- The Warden and the Wolf KingSo, I've had an idea for a fanfiction, but I don't remember the name of the city surrounding Castle Rysen. I've heard the names Dorminey, Pennybridge, and Rysentown, but I don't have access to my books at the moment. Does anyone have any info on that? Have some chocolate! 🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫Like
- Spoiler FanfictionNotes: • Okay, this addresses canon. I know that Artham and Esben never actually got to translate the First Books. But might they have started? Don’t be worried, I won’t break canon in that respect. They are soon to encounter some…events that will make them forget about other projects. • Am I foreshadowing too much? • Do you think it’s realistic for Esben to know a few words of Old Hollish, and for Artham to be ‘a bit of a linguist’? • Previous chapter Chapter 5-Secrets It was decidedly afternoon now. The sun was getting low in the sky, making long shadows, and the cold wind had died down. Artham was nearly at Sir Kadru’s manor, wondering what Esben had been doing. He went down the cobbled path and began looking through the large rows of spine trees that flanked the rutted dirt path that led to the front door of the manor. When he had gotten to the head of the path, he stopped. Esben was walking up the path, leading his horse, entirely engrossed in a paper he was holding. Artham wondered why he was leaving so soon, or if that was the case, how they had possibly finished so quickly. I thought Esben would’ve insisted on burning the midnight oil until I literally dragged him to bed… Artham saw that Esben still hadn’t seen him, and realized that here he had a prime opportunity. He left Shasta with Esben’s horse beside the first of the row of spine trees and crept quietly around them so that they were between him and the path. Despite the fallen leaves, he made next to no sound as he glanced through the trees to realize that Esben was now in front of him. He slipped between the trunks of two of the trees, getting bark all over his shirt and spine needles in his hair. Gliding quietly across the path, he came up behind his brother with a grin. He yelled a Hollish war cry as loud as he could and at the same time grabbed Esben hard by the shoulder. “YAHH!” Esben shouted and whirled around, fists at the ready as papers flew everywhere. Artham was laughing hysterically, holding his sides. “Artham! You scared me don’t do that!” He said, punching Artham hard in the shoulder. Artham tried to suppress his laughter. “Es, you should’ve seen your face!” Esben growled and went to recollect his papers. “And O, my noble protector, what in Aerwiar did I do to deserve that?” Esben huffed. Artham began helping Esben to collect his stuff and shook his head while he rubbed his shoulder ruefully. “Only tried to scare me literally every time I’ve been reading a book for the last… I don’t know, fourteen years?” Artham began laughing again. “It was just too good an opportunity to pass up.” Esben glared at his brother, but didn’t deliver a second punch like Artham expected him to. They walked in silence up the path and mounted their horses. “How come you’re leaving so soon, Es? I thought you would want to stay for at least another couple of hours.” Esben glanced at Artham with a strange expression on his face. “We got a lot done. You could say we finished early.” “Okay…so, are you going to tell me about it or just leave me in agonizing suspense?” Artham asked dramatically. Esben grinned wryly. “You know I would prefer the second option, but at risk of getting mixed up with the greatest warrior in Anniera, I won’t continue to agonize you for much longer. At least until we get home.” “Why? Can’t you tell me now?” Esben avoided Artham’s gaze and said, “Because I want to tell you at home.” “Mmmm…” Artham nodded slowly, trying to decode Esben’s odd behavior. If he’s still mad that I scared him…no, that’s not it. He’s not exactly acting worried or scared…I guess I’ll just have to wait until we get home. Artham looked over at his brother again, relieved to see that Esben seemed to have returned to his usual, happy demeanor. Esben met his eyes and grinned. “I’ll have to admit, that was some impressive sneakery, Arth. I never even heard you.” Artham laughed. Esben spoke again, “Did you have fun with Arundelle?” He asked, drawing out the word ‘Arundelle’ in a sing-song voice. Artham rolled his eyes. “Yes, we had fun.” Esben snickered. “You know, Arth, sometimes I think you two forget that anyone else exists in Aerwiar.” Artham responded with a lofty, condescending tone that made Esben laugh again. “Ah, you’ll understand someday, little brother.” * * * The brothers had arrived back at the castle and were together in the private library, Artham running his fingers over old books, looking for one specific one, and Esben at one of the drawing desks, and curiously enough, reviewing one of his papers and writing on another sheet. They had been there for about five minutes when Artham spoke, somehow making his whisper sound like a shout. “Fine! I give! Will you please just tell me what you’re working on?” Esben turned around with a smirk. “I thought you would be able to restrain your curiosity longer…” Artham stalked over to the desk. “Seriously, Es! Just tell me what you and Sir Kadru worked on.” Esben smiled as if he would’ve liked to continue teasing his older brother, but he uncovered his papers anyway. “We got so much done. I mean, not actually a lot but for something this difficult, yeah, a lot. We separated most of the Old Hollish from the other languages on three pages. I didn’t show him this part yet, though. I wanted to show you first.” Esben said with his voice in a low, husky whisper, gesturing to the pages in front of him. Artham leaned over Esben’s shoulder, gazing at the pages. He pointed to the two that Esben had been working on. One of them had several words copied out in Old Hollish so messily that only Esben could’ve written it and it was likely that only Esben would ever be able to read it, except for maybe his older brother. The other page had words written out in the common tongue. Artham turned his head toward Esben and asked, “What’s that?” “The first time in my life I’ve been glad Mama made us study Old Hollish. These are just a few of the words, maybe I don’t even have the meanings all the way right, but Artham, it's amazing!” Artham felt a warm thrill go through him at the thought that these could be actual words from the First Books, words that many said the Maker had written himself. And he and his brother were probably the first people in generations to see and read those very words. Artham ran his finger gently over Esben’s messy scrawl. “Wow,” he said, feeling that amazing thrill running through him again. “Yeah,” Esben responded, and when Artham looked at his little brother he could see by the awed light in his eyes that Esben was feeling that warm thrill too.” “What does it say?” Artham asked, realizing that Esben’s writing was messier than usual and nearly illegible. The automatic little corner of his mind registered that Esben had either been in a hurry or very excited when he had written the words. Esben looked at his brother with annoyance, then looked down at the paper again. “…I guess it is a little messy.” They paused for a moment while Esben found his place in his hen scratches, then Esben continued talking, his voice even quieter. “It’s a little hard to translate since most of the words don’t have direct translations, they’re more like vague phrases and general meanings, at least when you can’t get it in context. Artham, look here.” Esben opened the first book and pointed to a few lines. “It mentions a ‘place’, this word. I forgot what that last piece of the word means, do you remember, Arth?” Artham bent over and looked at the word Esben was pointing at. “Yes. Usually, this mark means something very valuable or secret.” Esben looked up at his brother, his eyes deep with seriousness. “I believe its talking about the Fane of Fire.” Artham’s eyes widened. “Really? How could you tell?” Esben ignored his brother and kept talking. “Look here, these few words are pretty vague, but here's what I thought they meant. Things like, ‘great beauty’ ‘light’ ‘corridors’…something about songs…and it mentions a rock. I’m not sure why. I mean, what does a rock have to do with the Fane of Fire? Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked. This is the last word I knew. Artham, I almost am afraid to say it for fear I’m translating wrong. It talks about power.” A thrill ran through Artham again, but this time it filled him with fear. It was like ice down his back, raising the hair on the back of his neck. Power. “Es, you can’t tell anyone else about this,” he said quickly as he stood up. Esben jerked his chair around to face his brother, making a loud noise as his chair scraped the floor. “Why?” He asked, abandoning any pretense of a whisper. “What makes you think I can’t tell anyone about this, Artham? I was going to tell the council tomorrow!” Annoyance flared up inside the Throne Warden, but he quickly stifled it, remembering times he had been so excited about something he hadn’t been able to see things right in front of him. Though that doesn’t happen very often, he thought. He exhaled slowly and turned to Esben. “Don’t tell anyone you aren’t absolutely sure you can trust.” Esben glared at Artham and asked with a sarcastic tone, “So can I tell Lord Senan? How about Bonifer? How about-” Artham interrupted. “Yes, you can tell them! I’m just saying, be careful with this information! If you have doubts about somebody, don’t tell them,” Esben opened his mouth to make another saucy reply, but Artham didn’t let him continue. “There’s probably nothing wrong, in fact, I’m probably being paranoid-” “-you usually are,” Esben muttered. Artham glared at him. “but things like this are sometimes dangerous. Didn’t you ever pay attention to history? Controversy, sometimes even the splitting of a nation, sometimes war, came because somebody wanted power. Somebody wanted secrets. That’s what happened with these very Books, and the fall of Anyara!” Artham swept his arm out toward the stack of books, and his voice had almost risen to a shout. He paused for a moment, then put his hand on his little brother’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m putting this way out of proportion.” Esben nodded and Artham continued. “There’s nothing wrong with your plans. Go ahead and tell the council, if you think that’s best, but please be careful, Es.” Esben sighed. “Okay. I’ll be careful. I think you're worried about absolutely nothing, but maybe it would be wise only to tell a few of the council members.” “Thanks, Es. And again, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled, and I shouldn’t have let my worries spill out on you. I know it's no excuse, but I’ve been having one of those days.” “Oh,” Esben said. An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Finally, Esben spoke. “Can you help me take these back to the treasure room?” Artham nodded and began collecting books. A few minutes later, Esben had left, but Artham lingered in the treasure room, gazing at the door to the Fane of Fire. Esben’s words echoed in his mind, sending a new combination of wonder and fear through him. Secrets and Power.Like