I finished typing this episode with my BRAND NEW KEYBORD!!!
Its an Eclipce Keybord with a cool neon blue backlight! I have one way to describe it...
Pyscodelic!
The night ended. Dawn slowly faded into existence, the sun growing from a small crescent and expanding to fill the sky. The crowds in the Capitol moved out of there homes, glancing at the home that had once been owned by Balter, now owned by the enigmatic Garret. Merchants opened their shops, Lord's read and sent out petitions and people went along with their daily business.
The Port, the massive dome made of white marble that sent the ships of the Empire through the Gate and into Terrix. But no ships were berthed there. No ships entered or left. It was empty, the crane's unmanned and unused. A single empty husk of a ship sat in the lowest berth, empty and slowly falling apart. A few vagrants had stolen some material from it and used them to shore up their homes.
Garret actually LOOKED at the Air ship's, and there company's. He looked at their finances, their earnings. They had dropped off after Balter was sent to the Legions. The ships had been sent off on mundane tasks that took a few...months of travel and food hauling. Even though no reports of drought or food shortages arrived at the Capitol...even though the new planes had been brining fast reliable information from every city on Emperryon.
├óÔé¼┼ôSomething is wrong├óÔé¼┬Ø Garret muttered, looking at the paper work. Juliana was away, but Teresa was forced to wander around her father's legs, demanding attention. Garret looked down at her. She had gotten visibly taller then from a week ago. Teresa grumbled. Garret decided to give her some attention. The was seemed so...distant and far away. It was comfortable, if somewhat boring here on Emperryon...
The two months of peace and quiet had lulled the soldiers. Red cursed herself for not trying to push the discipline harder, forgetting for the moment that she only commanded respect in the army she was in, not the one she was allied to. But she, being a dragon with far longer memory of the universe's cruel sense of humor, had always kept her gas mask at hand. Slipping it on she dived into the cloud of gas.
Peering through the murk she spotted a writhing figure. Red pushed through the gas and grabbed Kelly. She wrestled him out of the gas, feeling oddly detached and distant. She burst from the cloud, tendrils of purple smoke trailing behind her. Red spotted some medic's waiting to take anyone who got out of the cloud by themselves. Red dragged Kelly to them, and one of them took him. She grabbed another medic and shouted through her gas mask ├óÔé¼┼ôGet more masks!├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Then she dove into the fog, which was slowly dissipating in the light wind.
Kelly felt the fog come up around him, and first thing he did before the blinding pain overcame him was to shove his shirt up and over his face. Breathing the gas through the thick fabric of his tunic some time's was the difference between life and death in a gas attack. He felt the pain rush into him as the gas reacted with his skin and every open membrane on his body.
He staggered, tripping over a loose rock in the side of the Fortress. Knowing he had to find a way out before he was incapacitated for life, Kelly started to run. He tripped on something, falling forward. A dark shape came up to meet his head. A soft crack sounded, faintly heard over the screams and confusion of the attack.
The man faded, his vision going blurry. He couldn't remember his name. Why was a shirt over his head? He wondered, but knew he shouldn't take it off. He also knew he shouldn't open his eyes. Then he felt someone pick him up, someone strong. Kelly opened his eyes, feeling the gas burn them. The figure carrying him was monstrous. Its face was bulbous, all black and shiny white. Its eye's where like a bugs. Kelly started to struggle, wanting to escape.
Then he was out of the gas and felt the horrible pain ebb...slightly. A man wearing a helmet with a red cross painted on it started dragging him away. He was rushed to an medical bay, along with ten or so others who where just as injured. Five other's where buried the other day, there body's too poisoned by the gas's to heal.
Kelly faded in and out, the remaining medics and doter telling him that his head wound was hindering his memory. Kelly believed them, as he had little memory. But it was slowly returning. That is, he could remember his name. Then, the day after the attack, a woman showed up by his bed. Then it all came back in a flash.
Teresa woke, sweat running down her body and soaking into the bed sheets. She was nine and two quarters. She wasn't supposed to have nightmares. But ever once and a while she would be in the room with the stranger, Brutus. But rather then being a nice man, as he turned out to be, he would be frightening. Evil. Teresa looked through the darkness of her room, feeling the demon's of her imagination move through it, almost tangible.
She focused on light, bringing magic to her fingertips with an ease that had been growing with ever cast. The room flared with brightness, calm. Normal. She looked around, not trusting the door and the ornate furnishings. Only a few months ago she would of run to her father's room, clamoring for him to comfort her. But she knew he needed sleep as much as she did, so she stayed in her room. And in the corridors of this house she still saw shadow's of Balter's mansion.
Teresa decided to read. It always seemed to cheer up her mother. But her book's where too far away from her bed. To get them, she would have to leave the comfort and protection of her blanket. Mustering courage, she walked over to the book shelf and pulled a fun novel that she had already read once. It would be safe and predictable, perfect for calming a troubled young mind.
Teresa soon found her self nodding, the mage light she had summoned flickering as her energy ebbed. Chiding herself for not thinking, she turned on the electric light next to her bed and banished the mage light before she fell asleep. Mage light was easy to cast, but keeping it up required stamina she lacked. Teresa found her self nodding. Then she was asleep.
Garret sat up in bed, a idea as obvious as it was simple striking his head like lightning. ├óÔé¼┼ôhuh?├óÔé¼┬Ø muttered Juliana, who was half awakened by Garret's convulsion. ├óÔé¼┼ôNothing, go back to sleep├óÔé¼┬Ø Garret said. Juliana rolled over and quickly complied. Garret got out of bed, calling a small mage light to his fingertips. He walked to his desk, pulled out a piece of paper and jotted down his idea with a quill dipped in an ink well that was permanently sunk into the desk.
Garret looked over his idea, was assured that it was sound. It would work. For the first time in the last two months he felt something other then frustration and sloth. He felt a little more alive. He stood up and looked at Juliana, who lay in bed , sleeping peacefully. He would let her sleep.
He walked down the hall, sure to tread softly so as to not wake Teresa. Then he walked to a cabinet he hadn't opened for two months, even though it felt more like a millennium. He felt the heft of his sword, the
Tempest, pulling it out of its clasp with the rasp of a sword being pulled from its scabbard. ├óÔé¼┼ôIts been a while├óÔé¼┬Ø Garret whispered, looking at the simple blade. He turned and walked into the dining room, which was too small to be called a banquet room, and moved the furniture out of the way until he had a open area.
Garret stood at a ready position, feeling muscles he hadn't even thought of for two month's ready. He started simple maneuvers, but after ten minutes or so, he had loosened up and started to do more and more complicated maneuvers. He was doing the last part of the complicated maneuver when suddenly a spasm hit his hand. Gasping, Garret dropped the
Tempest. It clattered to the ground, sending noise through out the room and possibly carrying up the stairs.
Garret clutched his right hand, feeling shooting pain run up his arm. Garret looked at his hand and gasped. It was wrinkled, covered with liver spots and old. Ancient. The aging ended at the wrist, with a very sudden smooth regular arm. Garret looked at his hand. He tried moving his fingers, but they moved with such glacial slowness, creaking with arthritis.
Garret gasped. He closed his eye's, the pain ebbing slightly. He focused on the hand, trying to heal it with his power. But his magic wouldn't come. Garret opened his eyes and the hand was still aged. Garret felt panic rising in him. He looked around the room, then ran out. He went to his sword cabinet and pulled out his fencing gloves. He pulled the right glove over his right hand, feeling pain shoot up from the simple straightening of his fingers.
Garret let his finger's curl up into a comfortable position. His right hand crumpled into a fist, Garret walked back into the dining room and picked up the
Tempest with his left hand. He then put it away and walked up the stairs, walked into his room and went to sleep. Juliana was still asleep. Garret lay back into his bed, looking at his gloved hand. He knew what was going on. He...was dieing.
for dumb 
for i dont get it
for thats a mean ending, you jerk!