Prologue:
A sign was the first thing a traveler would see upon leaving the ship. It was an average old wooden sign, rusty nails clinging for dear life to the worn out post. Words were burnt into it, rough and homey, and welcoming.
"Here lies our Meadow," they said.
What an odd thing to say, one might think. Side-swept, curly brunette hair darkened green eyes. They darted around, taking in the sights, the smells. It was a busy day on the dock, a new shipment of supplies had come from the mainland. Loracia just happened to catch the one passenger ticket aboard. It wasn't a bad ride, if one could ignore the cramped spaces among crates, and the endless squeaking and stench of rats. She winced at the memory, and shook her head to free her mind of discouraging thoughts.
"Well, are ya gunna just stand ther'? We do have a schedual, ya know. Can't be waitin' around for stowaways to make up their minds." A rough hand on her shoulder startled Loracia out of her reverie, as a hulking shadow came up behind her. A smile lit the forest-colored eyes as they met sea-green. Then a flash of doubt. "You're not coming with me, Uncle?" Her tall, handsome, bleach-haired sailor of a relative sighed. As he held out a white envelope, Loracia could see the name "Felix" scrawled across it in sloppy handwriting. He never was one for neatness, she surmised. A call from the captain alerted them both to the leaving of the ship, and Uncle shoved the letter into Loracia's grasp. Suddenly he was rushing to get her onto the dock. Two blue suitcases were tossed from the deck by other deckhands. "Watch it, those have fragiles," she snapped at them. Not that they could hear her.
"When you get into the town, it's called Esior's Haven. Find a Dr. Felix, he can fill you in. He's an old buddy of mine. Bit quirky, but you'll get used to him." With a wink, the sea-man pulled up the cross-walk, and suddenly Loracia, of city upbringing, was alone in a bustling market this side of no where, and not a clue where to begin.
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Welcome! Seems you stumbled upon my fanfiction. I do hope you liked the introduction. It's just the story like any of us, but a bit more fleshed out and creative. If you have ideas to add, please, shoot me a PM!
I'll try to update regularly, whenever I have time and inspiration. It will extend beyond current in-game story, so once it finishes the dungeon, it will no longer be canon. (Unless of course, the story-line has updated since then.)
Have a nice read!
~Dae |
Chapter 1
"Loracia Dane! Hurry it up! You'll miss your transport!" The bedroom door muffled the call, but it still pierced the girl's sleep. Please, don't let her come in, was her first thought. Despite pleads to the universe, a fair, blonde-headed woman knocked once and scurried in. In response to the new chill tickling her ears, Loracia pulled the thick blanket higher over her head. A groan escaped her, but the lady only scowled. "Oh do get up Lora, your uncle will be here any minute. You know how he hates to be late." Loracia sat up slowly, a grouchy expression darkening already grim eyes. As the grip on the comforter loosened, it was swept from her fingers, to be neatly folded. A look of satisfaction dawned the woman's face, causing Lora to snort in contempt.
"I realize that I might be late," she put great emphasis for effect,"but honestly mom, why do you have to send me to No Man's Land?" Slipping off the mattress, the brunette curls bobbed as Loracia did a little dance in the cold to get dressed. She first chose a layered purple frock, much like she always wore, but almost as soon as it was taken down, it was put back up by firm hands. A squeak of protest escaped her, but one look from Mother Dane was enough to stay quiet. "You won't be needing frocks and frills and fancy things on the island," Mrs. Dane chided. "I've already packed you several days worth of clothes, and," she motioned to a second suitcase, "wrap up and take any keepsakes you would like with you."
After hopping into the one pair of slacks rescued from the back of her closet, Loracia pulled on a sweater. She admired the bead work for a moment, only interrupted when a thick coat smacked her in the face. Thrown off balance by the clingy piece of clothing, Loracia toppled backwards into the closet, subsequently getting covered by lacy outfits. "Very funny," she spat a sleeve out of her mouth and scowled at her mother. The middle-aged woman's eyes were filled with laughter, though her expression was solemn. A hand was offered to help the teen up, but was ignored, as Lora scrambled from under the clothes and hangers. Releasing a sigh, Mrs. Dane patted her daughter's curl lovingly. "Finish packing, I'll come get you when you're Uncle arrives."
Loracia held her breath, listening to her mother's footsteps fade from the room. After a few minutes she relaxed. It was always like this in the morning, but she didn't mind despite the fuss she made. Stepping over to the second suitcase, Lora noticed it was significantly smaller, and there was some plush cloth for wrapping valuables on the inside. The first thing the teen grabbed was a tiny porcelain cup. It had lost it's gold-painted handle, and the bottom was chipped, but otherwise it was in prime condition. Despite, of course, it was the last of its set. Loracia had always had a fondness for cute and fancy things and tea parties. Her mother was more sophisticated, of course. However, it was her father that seemed to bend to her childish will and sit down, don the laced bonnet and request more tea at the wiggle of the pinkie. Unfortunately for the tea parties, Father Dane took to the sea like the rest of the men of the family, and hadn't been seen since.
The cup was tucked neatly between some cloth. An ornate picture frame containing a picture of her mother and she joined it, as did one of her school friends. Finally, Lora's hand flitted over an assortment of shiny jewelry. Rummaging amound the necklaces, deft fingers pulled out a sturdy chain supporting a simple stone charm. Wasn't anything special, just bought from the market. It was more the peddler whom she had bought it from who had piqued her interest. Mysterious phrases and "prophecies" she would mutter when selling her stones. Her's seem to have the superstition of bringing good luck and protection. Loracia didn't believe it for a moment, but her friends seem to think it was fun to pretend.
And it was this necklace Lora was rubbing nervously, standing in the middle of the market.
Several bustling busybodies were shooting odd looks her way. Even for being dressed down, she stood out like a sore thumb in ironed slacks and designer sweater, hair curled as perfectly as you can get on a two-day journey without power. Most of the vendors gave her a once over and went about their business, but one little girl was staring at her, hiding behind a tent. Tentatively scooting closer, Lora brushed some curls behind her ear. The child's eyes widened and she scooted away,though curiousity keeping her from running off.
In the softest voice she could muster, Loracia smiled. "Do you think you could help me?" The smile faltered for a moment, but the girl's eyes sparkled. Any wider and her eyes will pop out of her head, she thought.
"You must be her! You must be, huh?" Without an explanation, the little girl grabbed her hand and pulled her in the direction of the town entrance. Trying to keep hold on her cases, they wound their way among people and tents and buildings, and all around were strange looking animals. They slightly resembled some pets from the city, but some had no similarities whatsoever. For a moment Lora paused, watching a finned, aquatic-looking animal almost as large as herself following another vendor. The youngster was insistant that they keep moving, and soon she was standing in front a larger, important looking building.
For a moment Loracia stood awkwardly, as it seemed the child had disapeered. A giggle and a push from behind, and she was propelled through the double doors into a waiting area. Several faces turned to see this new arrival barge in. Quickly and quietly as she could, Lora set down her bags and stepped over to the desk that seemed to be a kind of sign in area. "Is a... Dr. Felix here?" A tap on the shoulder caused her to spin around and face an old bearded man, a quirky smile lighting his features.
"I believe you are looking for me?" |
Waiting for the rest!