The Testran

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Writers Rift

Chapter 16 (v.1) - Sparrah.....Good

Submitted: June 04, 2017

Reads: 142

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Submitted: June 04, 2017



“My Dear Terry it is time for you to rise” the voice of the witch spoke to him once again from the frozen lands of his memories. “I am not one to intervene yet I find that the matters are of a concern greater than any oath that I hath sworn to uphold at any time hitherto”. He could not see her yet he could hear her voice within his head as he lay in waters of ice.  “Your companion is no more dear Terry and though you still live if you do not make haste in awakening you as well shall perish and our kind will be no more. The Shapeless one hath proven of a sort more clever that I hath once thought. He has begun move of which I cannot fathom the outcome and say I say it is time for a move to be made on our part as well”. The lands of ice changed to a void of blackness and he was standing atop a silver moon. He saw the witch yet she still had no face and her body was a simple outline of the light of blue around her. “My Terry you are soon to die and I must save you. However though I will intervene I cannot face Ozanth alone. Neither can you or the one you seek. He……..was not supposed to show his true form for I was sure he was defeated long ago by our people……..My Terry I urge you find a place where you can be safe for the time and I will hold the beast at bay for as long as I can………You companion is in the brush close by. She will be safe. I have given her breathe again though her body will need rest as will yours. You have used your abilities recklessly and nearly killed yourself……You and the one you search for have made a mistake one in the same. Please my hope I beg of you to find your other half and open the rift. I also place upon your shoulders one other task, you will begin a war upon this already war torn world, a war that will push Ozanth to the brink so that I may put him to rest. Form from these people an army so vast that the ground will tremble below them and there weapons will light the sky as we once did in the past. Ozanth is not immortal creature and though he is powerful he can still be defeated. I will come to you again once time is of less value. For now find your companion she will be a valuable tool for the times to come”.

Terry’s eyes opened and he was laying in the muck, the smell was powerful and he nearly gagged. He stood to his feet. He felt his head swim and his body felt weak. He was dehydrated, he knew, his stomach growled and his legs quivered beneath him. He made his way into the brush and toward where he knew Sparrah to be. The witch had left within his mind a path to the location. He found her there laying face down, a trembling mass huddled in the fetal position against a tree. He squatted down beside her and inspected her to see if she were awake or not. Her eyes were closed yet her erratic breathes and tear streaked face spoke that she might either be having a nightmare or she was awake.

“Sparrah” Terry attempted to get he attention yet there was no reply. “Sparrah we have to go” he said.

“Never…..never” she said softly, her voice quivering, “Never” her ever spoken word a snivel.

“You don’t want to travel with me anymore?” he said  yet he received no reply. “I understand” he said “But I need you” he continued.

“Never” she repeated. “Never……..Never…….Die……..Terry…….die” she said sniveling.

“C’mon” Terry reached out a hand to her and she retreated, but stood undaunted by the girls pathetic frame and kept his hand out, she looked to him, her eye wide revealing the scars left within her soul from deaths own halls. She reached out her hand took his. Her small cold palm was rough and calloused yet so feeble in his grasp. He stood and pulled her up slowly.

“Sparrah…….never leave Terry again” her voice trembled with the words. He pulled her in close held her shaking frame. They stood there for a few while allowing time to vanish around them then he lifted her and carried her as father would his sleeping daughter as he walked through the forest. Her agony spilled into him with each heavy breath and every moment he held her. Her limp body, the dangling arms, the sniffles as she wept softly to herself on his neck. He could feel the shadows of agonies claws overcast above them like vulture circling an animal soon to die. He rubbed her back and could only walk I silence through the shadows of the trees and scant violet light, he couldn’t allow himself to speak to her because he knew not what to say. What could you say to a child who died, he was not able to save her, he couldn’t even lift a finger or open his eyes to even watch as she died. He held her tighter in his arms and stopped walking.

“Where’s the safe house?” he asked and received no answer. He placed her down and gently muck ground and she curled her knees to her chest and hugged them. She looked to the floor and began to rock back and forth gently.  “Sparrah……..You don’t have to travel with me after we find a way out of everything……I’m not even sure why you followed me but…....” he let out a sigh to the heaven. “I want you to be safe, we need to find the safe house if we want to live”.

“Never die” she said softly. “Safe house close” she said, her words were spoken faster, the were spit from her mouth like the fire of a machine gun. “Terry follow” she looked up to Terry, her eyes blank, showing only the shadows of trauma within them. Sparrah stood and began to walk leading Terry to the safe house.

The two made their way through the woods of the marsh, the same sights passing by them over and over again. Trees beside trees and bushes covering the bottom. The came to an area that looked like a grassy field colored by the violet light but from experience Terry had concluded that there was a river below and began to contemplate how to get by. Sparrah began to tap her foot into the grass, feeling around the area for something that struck Terry as an enigma, then he saw Sparrah leap from the muck and onto dry land in the grass. “Terry…...Follow” he voice now returning to normal she gestured Terry to follow. He did as she did, being sure to  only step where Sparrah stepped initially. They travelled in a strange zig zagging pattern that seemed to be randomly put together, the jumped from one area to another onto land shards that seemed no larger than the actual size of Terry on two feet side by side. Terry struggled to keep his balance each step he took while Sparrah seemed to glide across the water effortlessly.

Finally, they made it to the end, another land shard with not grass and simply muck. He welcomed the feel of the muck in between his toes as he was able to walk freely again. The continued forward head long through and area of bushes for another 3 hours it seemed like though the sky did not seem to be getting in brighter from the night. Terry felt the prior dehydration begin to take control of him as his body weight shifted from one side to another and he nearly fell from his feet. Sparrah looked back to him and analyzed his frame before returning her gaze headlong to the path toward sanctuary. Terry felt a concern grow within him that he had hoped was long gone. Maybe Sparrah was going to kill him! It was a strong likelihood that she had taken to him as her owner and if so then that was perfect, however now that she had died trying to protect him – or injured from her point of view most likely – then Terry was a liability, weak and feeble and she needed an owner that could protect her as well as she him. She would only accept the most powerful leader and at the moment that was not Terry.  She had now confirmed his weaken state it seemed and now he figured at some point once she felt rested enough she would strike. He could probably kill her if it came down to a fist fight once he was at 100% but that was not something he really wanted to do. Sparrah was an asset that he desperately needed and killing her would be a strong hindrance to his survival in this place, on top of that he knew he would not come out uninjured and he felt that magic would not be an option for healing until he rejuvenated his body. Sparrah also knew she could not beat him in a head to head fight and she would definitely try and find a way to murder him from stealth and guile rather that a full blitz like last time.  

He studied her before letting out a sight. Maybe he should kill her right here…..Or wait until she found the safe house and just strangle her once they are inside. Killing her slowly would not be easy but it was use useful and quiet and if he caught her by surprise he could over power her. Sparrah looked back to him and point headlong. “Terry……Through trees in water” she said before running forward. Terry followed her for a mile through the trees before finding her waiting at the edge of a grassy area where a small wooded shack sat in the water. It was about two stories with a  stair was at the front, adjacent to where they stood. It was  long rectangular shape made out of cut wood and logs. The door was a large hardened animal hide and there was no way for them to get to it without swimming first off. Sparrah jumped into the water immediately and Terry sat waiting until she reemerged and walked up the stairs before following behind. He went over and climbed up the stairs where Sparrah stood waiting with the door open. The inside was pitched dark due to the lack of windows and there was a wooden ladder that led up to the second floor. The inside was empty save for the ladder and a small lantern in the center of the floor, the floor was cold and smooth. He walked into the building and he could the waves hitting the bottom of the structure. To the side beside the front door was a kitchen it seemed. A table with knives for cutting, made of stone wood. Terry turned as he saw Sparrah dart into an open door. He went into the kitchen area and picked the knife up off of the counter. He placed it in his pocket and made his way to the room where Sparrah vanished into. He caught her with a small wet rag wiping the muck from her body.

“Terry……Clean” she said reaching to her side into a bucket and pulling a soaked rag from inside. The bucket was wood and the rag old and worn. She tossed it to him and he caught it, wringing it out and washing himself off. The rag was cold and stunk but he wasn’t covered it dirt and bug anymore. After about and hour and six rags between each the two were free of mud on their skin and before Terry could put his pants back on Sparrah ran passed him and picked them up, scurrying up the wooden ladder. Terry froze, his mouth agape. “Oh shit” he sighed backing into the room where he had just cleaned off and readying for a fight.  He stood there motionless for what felt like the entire night, just peering into the darkness in the other room he waited but nothing ever came. Maybe she was waiting for him, no way could she run head first at him. Then the lantern in the front room turned on. He took a step forward.

“Terry……..clothes ……..clean” he heard from the living room but he said nothing in return. He could hear her making her way toward the door, see her shadow on the ground outside. Then he saw her, she wasn’t naked. Sparrah wore a think white skirt that stopped just above her knees and a tight red shirt with a pink smile face painted on, the clothes were not torn save for a small rip at the hem of Sparrah’s skirt. She looked up to Terry and smiled, offering him a bundle of clothes in her arms. Terry admitted to himself that the girl before him easily broke his guard. Despite what she was she was still a young girl, she killed so easily, maneuvered through the wilds and wielded a fully automatic weapon as if trained to do so. She was a soldier, a warrior worthy of Testran blood yet when she smiled, when she looked at him, she became a girl, a young girl that quivered when she was in fear, that cried and retreated from the touch of another person when shaving been violated. She was near weightless in his arms when he carried her, he hand so small and wrist so thin. She was a child, a young girl. He smiled and trusted her, reaching down and taking the clothes before stopping. His fingers brushed over a hard surface as he took the bundle of clothing from the girls hands.

“Terry……..Kill…….Sparrah” she said, her voice quivering. “Sparrah…………not good slave?” She let go of the clothes and backed away, Terry held on to them reflexively. Sparrah no longer held the knife entrusting it to Terry’s hands underneath the clothes. “Sparrah……not want……die” she backed away looking at him, her eyes crying out all that her voice did from her soul. “Sparrah……..not good girl?” she said, “Sparrah……try………Sparrah never leave Terry”. Terry let the knife fall from his hands and he began to dress himself, a pair of faded blue jean shorts and a white T-shirt. He looked to Sparrah who simply watched him, her eyes burning into his heart and sucking his soul into a pit of guilt and paranoia that he could not destroy.

“Sparrah” he said taking a step forward and stopping as she retreated backward.

“Sparrah not want to die…….No Sparrah good girl” she inched back again before meeting the wall behind her.  “Sparrah try to save Terry…..Sparrah not leave Terry……..Sparrah……..Sparrah………….I’m Sorry” with those words spoken sorrow unleashed itself and fell from girls eyes.  Terry let a sigh fall from his lips. He didn’t know what to make of the situation, he couldn’t pin point the exact reason behind what might have happened between then and now that could bring this about. Terry carried weapons around, he had not acted hostile toward her yet she became this mess of fear. Perhaps death affected her mind, perhaps she had simply gone made, her mind torn from having met the brink of death and then having been torn from it so suddenly. No he could not dismiss that possibility, never. In that case, was it really safe to keep her with him as she is currently? No she would become a liability, no longer an asset to his cause, who knows when she would fall into sorrow or even murderous rage.

But he could not forget about the possibility that this could all be an act, she could simply be playing at his affection for her based on firstly the kindness he showed her when he found her in the woods. Secondly the fact that despite knowing that she knew he had the knife and had even taken it knowing full well she might try to kill and thus the reason for having the knife in the first place, he still came within arm’s reach of her and took her clothes.  She knew she had his guard down, she knew he would fall for all of her tricks and she was playing him, it was a test, to see if he was actually strong enough to still be her owner, to protect her. Would he really fall for the sham of an act, there was no reason for it, it was the weakest farce he had witnessed in all of his lifetime, and he had the memories of an entire nation and their ancestors within his mind. He knelt down and picked up the knife. Could he really kill her, this young girl, this child weeping on her knees before him, begging for her life. He had the knife, he had the power, he could choose, he could finally be efficient, finally have his guard up for the first time since the witch dropped him into this infernal realm.

Sparrah looked to him and began attempted to scramble away through – be it panic or an act of this farce – it seemed she only went back toward the wall and tried to go through it to no success. She finally stopped moving and awaited her fate. But Terry froze, he knelt down and looked into her eyes those moist doughy eyes and flipped the knife placing the blade into his palm and offering her the handle. “You win” he said with a smile “I trust you too much. If you want to kill me, you’ll have to fight me……but you’ll get your chance”.

“Sparrah…….not kill Terry”  she sniffled leaning forward and looking him in the eyes. “Terry……Sparrah owner……Sparrah” she shook her head as if denying some fact that she was telling herself in her mind. “Sparrah sorry” she began to cry again.

“Sparrah why are you crying” he placed a hand under her chin and mover her eyes back to his.

“Terry……….Order………Lost……..Sparrah……..Leave……Never…..Never never”

Terry let out a huff of air and then a groan before sliding his hand to her cheek. He spoke as softly as he could manage in an attempt to get her to calm herself so she could speak clearly.

“Sparrah. Try that again, the right way”

The girl paused sniffling before continuing. “I……I’m sorry” she said her voice the simple squeak of a mouse. “Sparrah left Terry……..Sparrah never never supposed to leave Terry”.

Terry let a smile paint across his face, not because he was amused, or because he was happy in anyway but because for the first time he felt safe, he could see honesty in Sparrah’s eyes, he could hear it in her voice.  He knew that he could trust her unconditionally now and that it was well placed. He felt a heaviness in his heart, like his chest was quivering. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. Now he was amused, he was amused at himself for being terrified of a simple confused girl, perhaps he was the mad one after all.

“Sparrah” he said moving kissing her on the forehead, you didn’t do anything wrong. He knew what happened, Bardia had made sure he knew. How Sparrah had died in pain, how she never left his side even as she died her soul was still fighting to be by his side. This simple girl, the loyalist of any man or woman he knew of……He could never harm a hair on her head.  “You didn’t leave me…..I left you……I left you and you got hurt…….Sparrah if not for you I would have died……The witch saved you because she knows I need you. I would never kill you. We’re family…….becoming a family I guess”

“Family?” Sparrah said sniffling. “Terry…..not kill Sparrah?” Terry shook his head. “Sparrah……Good girl?”

Terry smiled. “Yes you’re a good girl”.

Sparrah smiled standing and running, climbing the ladder to the second floor. She came back down with a duffle bag on her back and a cloth cover in her hand. “Blanket”. Terry looked at this smiling young girl and he remembered her; that one whom he’s been searching for, the one who he needs to find at all costs, the one who will help him rebuild his people. He thought of the moment that he held Sparrah’s life in his hand the first time and remembered what he thought at the moment he let it go. “She is just a child” he said to himself. “A confused, young girl, like her…… Sparrah”.

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