TwisterJester.Net <link rel="stylesheet" href="http://www.twisterjester.net/kissfm/styles.css" type="text/css"> <style type="text/css"> #ddimagetabs{ } #ddimagetabs a{ display: block; text-decoration: none; font: bold 12px Arial; /*tab font */ color: black; /*font color */ width: 86px; /*width of tab image */ height: 22px; /*height of tab image */ float: left; display: inline; margin-left: 4px; /*spacing between tabs */ padding-top: 4px; /*vertical offset of tab text from top of tab*/ background-image:url(bluetab.jpg); /*URL to tab image */ background-repeat: no-repeat; text-align: center; } #ddimagetabs a:hover, #ddimagetabs a.current{ background-image:url(bluetabover.jpg); /*URL to tab image onmouseover */ color: black; } #tabcontentcontainer{ background-color: #EEFCFD; border: 1px solid #95b9c4; padding-top: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left; 5px; padding-right: 5px; text-align: justify; width:720px; /*width of 2nd level content*/ height:35px; /*height of 2nd level content. Set to largest's content height to avoid jittering.*/ } .tabcontent{ display:none; } </style> <script type="text/javascript"> /*********************************************** * DD Tab Menu II script- ? Dynamic Drive DHTML code library (www.dynamicdrive.com) * This notice MUST stay intact for legal use * Visit Dynamic Drive at http://www.dynamicdrive.com/ for full source code ***********************************************/ //Set tab to intially be selected when page loads: //[which tab (1=first tab), ID of tab content to display]: var initialtab=[1, "sc1"] //Turn menu into single level image tabs (completely hides 2nd level)? var turntosingle=0 //0 for no (default), 1 for yes //Disable hyperlinks in 1st level tab images? var disabletablinks=0 //0 for no (default), 1 for yes ////////Stop editting//////////////// var previoustab="" if (turntosingle==1) document.write('<style type="text/css">\n#tabcontentcontainer{display: none;}\n</style>') function expandcontent(cid, aobject){ if (disabletablinks==1) aobject.onclick=new Function("return false") if (document.getElementById && turntosingle==0){ highlighttab(aobject) if (previoustab!="") document.getElementById(previoustab).style.display="none" document.getElementById(cid).style.display="block" previoustab=cid } } function highlighttab(aobject){ if (typeof tabobjlinks=="undefined") collectddimagetabs() for (i=0; i<tabobjlinks.length; i++) tabobjlinks[i].className="" aobject.className="current" } function collectddimagetabs(){ var tabobj=document.getElementById("ddimagetabs") tabobjlinks=tabobj.getElementsByTagName("A") } function do_onload(){ collectddimagetabs() expandcontent(initialtab[1], tabobjlinks[initialtab[0]-1]) } if (window.addEventListener) window.addEventListener("load", do_onload, false) else if (window.attachEvent) window.attachEvent("onload", do_onload) else if (document.getElementById) window.onload=do_onload </script> </head> <body> <div align="center"> <table class="main" cellspacing="0"> <tr valign="top"> <td style="padding: 0px"> <img src="http://www.twisterjester.net/tjnettop.jpg" style="width: 740px; height: 140px; border: 0px solid" alt="TwisterJester" title="TwisterJester" /> </td></tr> <tr valign="top"> <td class="nav"> <div align="center"> <div id="ddimagetabs"> <a href="http://www.twisterjester.net/index.html" onMouseover="expandcontent('sc1', this)">Home</a> <a href="http://www.twisterjester.net/personal/index.html" onMouseover="expandcontent('sc2', this)">Personal</a> <a href="http://www.twisterjester.net/globe/index.html" onMouseover="expandcontent('sc3', this)">Globe</a><a href="http://www.twisterjester.net//rim/index.html" onMouseover="expandcontent('sc4', this)">Rim Country</a><a href="http://www.twisterjester.net/xfiles/index.html" onMouseover="expandcontent('sc5', this)">X-Files</a><a href="http://www.twisterjester.net/relichunter/index.html" onMouseover="expandcontent('sc6', this)">Relic Hunter</a><a href="http://www.twisterjester.net/guestbook/view.php" onMouseover="expandcontent('sc7', this)">Guestbook</a><a href="http://www.twisterjester.net/superfluous/index.html" onMouseover="expandcontent('sc8', this)">Superfluous</a><a href="http://www.twisterjester.net/colorwheel.html" onMouseover="expandcontent('sc9', this)">Color Wheel</a><a href="http://www.twisterjester.net/writers.html" onMouseover="expandcontent('sc10', this)">Writers</a><a href="http://www.twisterjester.net/ascii.html" onMouseover="expandcontent('sc12', this)">ASCII</a><a href="http://www.twisterjester.net/bg/index.html" onMouseover="expandcontent('sc11', this)">Backgrounds</a> </div> <br style="clear:left" /> <DIV id="tabcontentcontainer"> <div id="sc1" class="tabcontent"> Want to return to the main page? Just click the "Home" button. </div> <div id="sc2" class="tabcontent"> Family - love 'em or hate 'em, here they are. </div> <div id="sc3" class="tabcontent"> Photos taken in Globe, Arizona, from home and around the community</a>. </div> <div id="sc4" class="tabcontent"> It's called Rim Country - based on an escarpment stretching hundreds of miles across central Arizona, painted with Ponderosa pine forest </div> <div id="sc5" class="tabcontent"> Yeah, yeah - I'm an X-Files fan. And I wrote fanfiction in my day. But before you judge me - I wasn't writing sappy romance. *Not for the queasy of stomach. </div> <div id="sc6" class="tabcontent"> Anyone who knows me, knows I was the moderator of the Relic Hunter forum for Fireworks Entertainment and did a lot of work with them. I still have a ton of things to move over... </div> <div id="sc7" class="tabcontent"> Please sign. I am a feedback addict and like it that way. </div> <div id="sc8" class="tabcontent"> Actually the full name is <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bolder">Not Altogether Superfluous</span>, a collection of poetry by myself and by friends. </div> <div id="sc9" class="tabcontent"> If you work on the web but can't ever find exactly the right color number, this is a good starting point. It shows you the color in graphics and also provides the hex (HTML) number to create it. </div> <div id="sc10" class="tabcontent"> This is a page of links, a writers' resource page including help for grammar, spelling, rhyming, converting international measures, etc. </div> <div id="sc11" class="tabcontent"> You want to create a music note without using an image file? This page tells you how to create alternate characters - including icon-style images - using html and text! (Still under construction) </div> <div id="sc12" class="tabcontent"> These pages are adoptable "background" graphics for webpages. They're free for you to use; just right-click the image to save (a few require an extra click or two.) Includes a hover feature to preview on the full page. </div> </DIV> </div> </td></tr> <tr valign="top"> <td style="padding: 10px"> <h3>The Color of Fate</h3> <h4>Chapter 2</h4> <p>Shamar stumbled back, groping wildly for another tree and finally wrapping his hands around the long, swaying bough of a weeping willow. It was the only thing close enough to keep him from tumbling to the ground. Sweat slicked his skin despite the crisp air. His breath came in shuddering gulps and his pulse drummed in his ears.</p> <p>He reeled at the immensity of what he'd been shown. In the space of the time it took push a needle through cloth, his entire world was upended, its order now chaos. He was both terrified and awed at the epoch revealed to him, passed to him through the enigmatic tactile encounter. Shamar saw the things that Gueren saw, perceiving stupendous beauty through the Ancient One's eyes eyes. Through a mere touch, Shamar experienced the enormous loss the old man had sustained in body and soul, injury stretching over an unnatural lifetime. Shamar now knew that the calm veneer was an illusion that hid centuries of deep, abiding grief.</p> <p>That, too, surprised Shamar. Like most of those he knew, Shamar had always presumed that Ancient was a title, a station bestowed generations ago by the now-defunct royal court and passed from father to son through a lineage of fops and sluggards. But the stunning connection with the old man fed him snippets of unintended information, emotional flotsam carried along with the stream of consciousness. Ancient Gueren was truly ancient. The wizened little man had been alive since the spring solstice of 3407, nearly seven hundred years before Shamar was born. And there was no laziness in this old soul, none of the characteristics Shamar presumed of royalty and their entourage -- just a deep, abiding grief and an unswerving devotion to a duty that was beyond Shamar's ability to read.</p> <p>It was a long while before Shamar could stand unaided again. His eyes returned to the small spot in the dust, where the marks of the old man's feet were already melting back into the compacted forest floor. He might have dismissed the encounter altogether, chalking it up to madness or fever, were it not for two things. One, he still held the leather pouch in his hand. And two, at the point where the Ancient's fingers caught his wrist, there was a tingling sensation that continued unabated. <p>Shamar pushed up his sleeve nearly to his elbow when the tingle turned to burn. He stared at the inside of his right arm and his jaw went slack. A delicate pattern of veins were building into a medallion formed of his own body, flesh and blood molding itself into a detailed frieze of a lion's head. He raised his left hand and watched as another, very different creature emerged; an eagle grew, spreading its feathery wings around the entire circumference of his wrist. Even in the fading light, its lines were plain, though the redness of initial eruption was already fading. <p>Fear welled again, twisting his stomach into knots. A voice other than his own continued to chant in his mind: <em>You'll not ride alone, young Master. Find the one you trust the most, get you a good horse each, take provisions and water and leave quickly. I fear an ill wind is blowing, and it will not hesitate to destroy everything that is dear to you if you don't act quickly!</em> <p>The old man's urgency propelled Shamar back through the forest, toward the small stone building where he lived, first at a fast walk, then at a dead run. He dashed through the tiny community without seeing it. It was, after all, the same unprepossessing village where he'd lived his entire life. It never changed. <p>Yanking open the door to his quarters, Shamar took a single, sweeping glance at his home, a small alcove situated in a back corner of his master's stables. He collected clothing and supplies in a haphazard rush, bundling them into an oilcloth pack. Without stopping to question his own urgency, he threw the saddle blanket over the dappled stallion he'd captured and trained from a colt in the wilds. The steed nickered in mild protest, leveling a disdainful brown eye at the late-eve's intrusion. Shamar's hand on the animal's neck offered quick reassurance, then the young man adjusted the saddle and the pack he'd filled. <p>More than once, his master threatened to sell the animal; but if anyone other than Shamar approached, the dapple grew violent. It was yet more fodder for those who whispered behind their hands and averted their eyes in Shamar's presence, as if his gift could be deflected by mere will.. <p>Shamar leaned forward and blew out the oil lamp that told him his master knew he'd gone, and was expecting him back on the morrow. He was unwilling to risk a fire even if he wasn't going to be here to live through its consequences. <p>Shamar's foot was already in the stirrup when a voice spoke behind him. <p>"I'm going with you!"</p> <p>Shamar's head whipped around. "Ana!" he gasped. "Anousone, what are you doing?"</p> <p>The girl rolled her eyes. "Must women continually repeat themselves to be understood? I said -- " She stretched the words out, exaggerating every syllable -- "I'm - going - with - you. I can write it down for you if you're deaf. If you're just stupid, you'll have to fend for yourself!" She adjusted ill-fitting doublet and leggings, and tucked long raven braids into a forest green velvet cap. <p>Shamar wasn't sure whether to laugh or groan. The young woman was trying to pass as a man, or at least a boy. The overall effect, however, was that of a little girl playing dress up. "You can't come with me, Ana." <p>There, he said it. So why did he feel a twinge of sadness at the words? Walking away from his neighbors' daughter shouldn't be cause for melancholy. While he no longer could muster any real ire at the childhood pranks she'd pulled, it hadn't dawned on him that he might really miss the little imp. "I won't be coming back," he added, unsure of the veracity but figuring it would dismiss the child without hurting her feelings. <p>"<em>We</em> won't be coming back," she corrected him firmly. She swung herself onto the broad back of her bay mare, drawing a thick green cloak around herself and pulling her animal alongside his. "I'll come whether you want me to or not. You know I'm telling the truth, too, so don't bother arguing, Shamar." Her eyes narrowed as she peered at him. "And stop calling me a child! I'm not a child. I'm nearly twenty and I'll thank you to keep your snippety mind where it belongs!" <p>He blinked, protesting, "I didn't call you a child!" <p>"No" She sniffed disdainfully, "But you were certainly thinking it loudly enough. You should really watch that, you know. Some of us don't like hearing your ramblings." At his astonishment, she raised a curved brow. "Do you find it difficult to believe that a mere girl could read you? Or that anyone could? You're not that mysterious, I promise you." She turned her animal and tossed over her shoulder, "We'd better get moving. I don't want to be followed." <p>His brow furrowed and he barked, "Anousone Jalies, come back here!" <p>Her answer was a short, harsh laugh. "Not bloody likely. My father declared me marriageable material, and he up and betrothed me to Sonbey. I won't marry the old lech, no matter what. To add insult to injury, I'm to be wedded and bedded tomorrow before the sun goes down. If I stay, I'll be killed for cutting off my husband's privates. That's still preferable to staying a single night in his bed!" She turned back to Shamar, her face stony. "I'll go, with you or without you, Shamar. Everyone knows what Sonbey is, what he does. I'm not going to be his fifth dead wife inside the space of as many years." <p>Shamar's breath caught in his throat, his pulse pounding in his ears, thundering at the implications. "Gods, Ana... I had no idea. Why in Hades would your father promise you to that snake?" He mounted his own stallion, all thought of refusing her gone. It was unimaginable that any young woman be sacrificed to the vile alter of Sonbey's perversions, but Anousone... <p>Shamar reached over and clutched his friend's hand, surprised to discover that the little firebrand was trembling. "I'd be honored if you'd ride with me, Ana, though I truly don't know if I'm ever coming back. Are you sure you'd be willing if it comes to that?" <p>Her expression suggested that she hadn't seriously considered that possibility. "My papa owed Sonbey money. He'd borrowed more than he would ever be able to repay." She closed her eyes, averting her face. "My family will lose their home." <p>"That's not your fault," Shamar replied in a gentle tone. "You are not responsible for your father's choices, only your own." He didn't let her see the cold fury that gnawed at his gut. How could a man sell his daughter to settle a debt? The pendulum in his mind had swung to the opposite side. <p>She raised her face to him, blinking. Was it Shamar's imagination, or had her eyes grown misty? "It's my choice to flee, Shamar. I could stay, and my family would be better off for it." <p>"No, Ana. It would be no more than a short reprieve before your father began gambling again. You would have given yourself for nothing. This is the right choice." <p>Between his expedition into the forest and his mad flight back home, the day had faded into night, and with the additional delay to speak with his unexpected companion, the hour was growing late. Superstition and cold drove the local population indoors now. Smoke and the scents of cooking rose from chimneys. Voices filtered through doors and shutters, mingling with the occasional neigh, bark, meow, or squawk of domesticated animals. A deep bellow called out Ana's name once, twice... <p>Then there was a roaring curse, followed by nothing but the sound of a slamming door. <p>The door to the stable was shut behind them when the whispered words of a forest apparition tickled Shamar's mind. <p><em>You'll not ride alone, young Master. Find the one you trust the most, get you a good horse each, take provisions and water and leave quickly. I fear an ill wind is blowing, and it will not hesitate to destroy everything that is dear to you if you don't act quickly.</em> <p>Frowning, Shamar glanced at Ana. He did trust her, that was true. He didn't find her, precisely, but if he had to have a traveling companion, he could ask for no better. <p style="font-size: 10pt; font-weight: bolder"><a href="id2.html" target="_top"><< Back</a></p> </td></tr> <tr><td style="font-size: 9pt; padding: 10px; border-top: 1px solid #cecece">© 1987-2006 by LeiLani Dawn<br />all rights reserved</td></tr> </table></div> </body> </html>