Author: Riniko22

Notes: The Characters and Places within this story are not mine. I do not own them, nor am I making any money off of them. So sad, very tragic story of a penniless author that fell into the spring of …….

The characters in this story will likely not act the same as in cannon (written or video), so don't flame me about this. Some will have grown up with different influences on them leading them to react in different ways.

Advice is welcome. I will continue the story to its end, and I have several other ideals in the works after this one or during breaks between chapters. I hate seeing stories that are dropped and never finished.

Part 3 - Awaking

Elder Comb could feel the child begin to shake as another seizure overtook the small body. Reaching out with her own trembling and tried arms she placed a hand to each side of the shaking child's head. She could feel the cold sweat that soaked the child's long hair even though the room was roasting from the fire burning behind her in the hearth behind her. As she began to pour a little more of her own life force into the fevered child the tremors began to lessen and finally stop.

The physical wounds had healed well under her watchful care but, she was still deeply worried about the battle that was going on within the child's mind as it tried to repair itself. It had been five days since the child had entered her hut and both she and the child were exhausted and knew it. She could only hope that the child would survive the inter battle and begin to heal soon before her body gave out. She had given too much of herself to the child to lose now.


I feel safe here. But why is that and where is here? Trying to figure this out, I began to focus more on the sounds and smells around me. I could hear the gentle sound of rain drumming against a roof and the damp musky smell the air has after it has been raining awhile. This seemed strange for some reason, I had been outside before and I, no we, had not seen anyone in days and it had not been raining. But, who was I with it seemed I should remember. Why can't I remember who was with me. I had been practicing like I had been told to by …, why can't I remember.

Opening my eyes slowly in the dimly lit room, I could see that I was laying on a bed in a small room that felt somehow familiar. Setting up, I could see that the wooden wall next to me had a large picture of some ancient battle between the tribe and some weak and treacherous animal like men. Thinking about them for some reason made me feel a little uneasy and scared for a minute. 'What tribe? And why do I think that I am one of them?' These questions and many more started to swim around my head making me start to feel dizzy, so I lay back into the warm bed and fell back to sleep.

When I next woke up, it was to the sound of someone slowly opening the door to my room and stepping in. It was then that my stomach made a loud groaning sound that made the person break out laughing, and make me crawl deeper into the covers from the embarrassment.

When the sounds of the mirthful, but relieved laughter began to die down, I heard Elder Comb's voice. "Child, I am glad to see or rather hear that you had awakened and that you are hungry. Now let me look at you for a few minutes to see that you are well. Then we can see about taming that tiger that you seem to be hiding under those blankets."

Any fear or embarrassment that I may have had seemed to disappear in an instant when I heard her offer of food. I began to weakly begin pull myself out from under the warm blankets and unsteady swing my feet toward the floor.

"Now child don't try to stand up quite yet, I have to look you over before I can let you eat yet," spoke Elder Comb.

With these words, I looked over to see a small and ancient woman that seemed to be balancing on a cane, start to pong over to my bed. A small part of me wanted to stare at her in shock, but a much larger part seemed to find the whole thing normal for some reason. "Yes, honored Elder Comb," I heard myself saying with a dry wispier before I could think about a response." This response seemed to catch the old woman by surprise almost as much as it did myself. 'I was sure I don't know her, but the words had just popped out of my mouth without my thinking about them.'

With a gentle, but firm voice Comb asked, "Child, how did you know my name and the proper way to address me?"


I know that this may seem to be a short chapter, but I wanted to get something out now that I am moved in. I still have a lot to do, unpack what I own, look for work (why can't the bills just pay themselves), and other needed things.

I will hopefully have a larger chapter up in about a week. Please tell me what I can do better; I do listen to constructive advice. Even if some people I know keep telling me I don't always follow it.