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Test Subject
Original Poster
#1 Old 26th Dec 2008 at 5:37 PM
Tales of Alaethes: Katya's Tale (Updated 03/12/09. Chapter 23 is up!)






My son, there is so much I wish I could tell you, so much I'd say, but time and distance seem to have formed an impenetrable gulf between us. I can only hope that you have accomplished what you left home to do, that you've found your father and that you are safe, far from our war-torn land.

I wanted to tell you the truth about your father long before you discovered it for yourself. Sadly, my tongue remained stubbornly frozen until it was too late. I feared—oh, I feared so many things, but you have to understand that every decision I made from the moment I knew I was pregnant with you was for you. Your safety. Your reputation. Your life. Nothing is more important to me.




I regret much, but my darling Ivan, I've never regretted you. I'd give everything to see your sweet face again, to have your forgiveness. This journal is a poor substitute. Such are the times that poor substitutes are counted riches in a world filled with nothing. No food. Such little warmth and such mean shelter.

I beg forgiveness once again, for I am jumping ahead. You deserve it all from the beginning. You deserve a more skillful telling. Alas, you will have to do with what I can provide, and if fortune smiles just once upon me in these black times, one day this poor book will make it into your hands, and you will judge me less harshly than I have judged myself.




Where to begin? I never spoke to you of my childhood. It pained me to look back and think of those times, so much hardship and loss. We lived in a hovel that made your stepfather Matthjes' farmstead seem a palace. My parents buried five babies. Only Donik, Laszlo, and I survived beyond infancy.



And yet, now I see those times through a different lens. Despite the cold, the damp of the canal, and the frequent hunger, I knew love. Your grandfather Sergei was a wonderful father to me. Papa called me his little jewel and made up for much of Mama's coldness.

I know you became close to your grandmother, your “Ba Griet” as you called her. I never begrudged you that closeness, Ivan, and I know you never understood the strain between her and me. She gave me very little save grief and criticism in my childhood. She only ever had love for Laszlo, and even in that she was grudging and careful.

I used to think it was because of the babies she lost, but as you well know, I've lost children of my own. Never did it make me withhold from any of you. If anything, it made me love you all the more. For all of my many flaws, you can never accuse me of lack of love. No, whatever character defect that made my mother incapable of nurturing her children, it had nothing to do with my dead siblings. I think you knew her better than I. Perhaps you have the answer to that.




I could tell you of fishing at the canal with Papa, the countless trips there and back for water, the rare times I was able to stay the night with my best friend Helene Drussel at her family's dairy, or the countless ways Laszlo found to torment Donik and me when Papa wasn't looking, but it would do little to help you to understand why I made the decisions I did, why our lives became what they were.

I know those are the answers you always most desperately wanted, especially once you knew the truth. For that, I must return to the winter I met your father, the winter my life changed drastically and irrevocably.



Katya's twin toddlers crawled into the room, tugging and nudging at her. She shifted her position to make room for them, but they began to cry. “Hush, my darlings, there,” she said. “I know you're hungry. I'll go get you the milk rag.” Putting aside the journal, she rose to head into the kitchen.

She dipped a clean rag in the milk pail and offered it first to her daughter, Donika, and then to her son, Laszlo. It wasn't much, and neither of them had their fill. However, they were accustomed to little food these days and eventually stopped their fussing.



As she put them to bed, her five year old son Bertrand came into the room. “Mama, can I have a milk rag, too?” he asked.

“You're too old for the milk rag. You must eat your big boy food, or you'll never grow strong and tall like your older brothers,” she said patiently.

“But I don't want turnip porridge! I want a milk rag, and I want my big brothers,” Bert protested. “Where are they? When will I see them again?”

Katya sighed. “If we're lucky, you'll see them again soon. We've spoken of this before, many times.”

Bert wound himself up for a major tantrum, but before he could deliver it, seven year old Gemma skipped into the room. Glancing at her mother in a way that was older than her years, she put on a cheerful smile for her brother. “Would you like to play a game?” she asked.



Katya shot her a grateful glance and finished tucking in the twins. By the time she left the room, the two children were seated on the floor playing quietly. She didn't know what she'd do without Gemma.



As she put her journal away, she thought, I wish I could answer your questions, Bert, but I honestly don't know. No one does.
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Test Subject
Original Poster
#2 Old 27th Dec 2008 at 3:48 PM
I'm really excited to be posting my first ever Sims 2 story! I intend to stick to a regular update schedule of Mondays and Thursdays. The "Tales of Alaethes" discussion board contains extra information on the world, a dramatis personae, and pronunciation guide. As time goes on, more content will be added, as well as a section for blooper pics. I already have some doozies!

I hope you guys enjoy the story as much as I'm enjoying creating it.
Field Researcher
#3 Old 27th Dec 2008 at 8:40 PM
It looks very interesting and i will continue reading cant wait to see more.
Instructor
#4 Old 27th Dec 2008 at 8:48 PM
Very good so far, i look forward to reading more. Keep up the good work :howdy:
Test Subject
Original Poster
#5 Old 28th Dec 2008 at 4:16 PM
Sweetsweetie85 and Chowgilly, thanks so much for the feedback and encouragement! I really appreciate it. Expect an update on Monday!
Test Subject
Original Poster
#6 Old 29th Dec 2008 at 5:10 PM
Default Tales of Alaethes: Katya's Tale Chapter 2




They look so peaceful. I wish there were more for them to eat. My babies. My twins. When Evan was born with his still twin, Archer, but no. I'm not ready to think of that yet. I'll get to it soon enough in the journal.

I'm just glad Ivan left before we came to this. He has been through enough, Katya thought. She walked to the desk and sat, taking only a moment to gather her thoughts before resuming her account.



Coming to these pages gives me more respite from my troubles than you know, Ivan. In a small way, it brings me close to you again. For that short time, I feel as though my fragmented life is once more whole.

I remember now, I was telling you of your father, the first time I met him. That day started like so many days before. I had no reason to believe my life would ever change.




The canal was frozen solid. It always was by January, which meant every morning I had to get the hatchet from the barn and break the ice for water, even on the Sabbath. The only thing I had to look forward to that day was taking a ride in Heer van Seelen's sled for church.

We were lucky to be tenants of a generous man. When the snow was too deep to trek into Blauvelt, he would pick up the families farthest out on his land from the village and take us all to the kirke: our family, the Drussels, and the Rekts.




We were always first. I loved to feel the cold rush of the wind on my cheeks and hear the jingling of the harness. It seemed the sled went so fast! The light through the trees turned the snow to a glittering gem field. On those days, we all felt rich.

I loved those rides. Helene and I would stand on the back runner together and giggle so much that even patient Donik would shoot us sharp glances. We'd tumble off the back right at the kirke doorstep, red cheeked and high spirited. It was at that very door that I met him. I literally fell right at his feet thanks to a sudden lurch of the sled and a patch of ice.




You know I'm not dramatic, but I swear to you it was love at first sight. He had the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen, a most unusual gray. I don't have to describe them to you. You see them every day you look in the mirror. Yes, you inherited your father's beautiful eyes. I'm just sorry our fellow countrymen never saw them the way I did. I'm sorry they gave you so much grief over your Ansalan looks.

When he helped me up, his hand was warm. I felt that warmth all throughout the church service, just as I felt his eyes upon me the entire time from behind. My mind raced with questions. Who was that boy? Where had he come from? Why was he dressed so strangely? Why had I never seen him before? I'm afraid I didn't hear much of Father Augustin's service and rather uncharitably hoped it would soon come to an end.




I hoped to be able to speak to the boy after the service, but the fat Father and that fawning wretch of an altar boy Greb snapped him and the man he was with up like a Sabbath roast as soon as they got out the door. Heer van Seelen was ready to leave, and I was in no position to delay him. As we climbed onto the back runner of the sled, Helene gave me a secretive smile. She was the first to notice how I felt and one of the few who ever truly understood.

Back at the house, there was too much to do for me to moon about and daydream, but it didn't stop me from wondering. Although we limited our work on the Sabbath, we couldn't stop it altogether. The chickens still had to be fed and put up at night, the hogs slopped, the horses tended.




At dinner I brought up the strangers, careful to show little more than idle curiosity. I still recall the conversation vividly, despite the fact that it was over twenty years ago. “Papa, who were those people at the kirke today? The ones who looked so different?”

“They're Ansalan mercenaries, Katya,” Papa answered. “Leave them be.”

“What're Ansalans?” Las cut in. I was glad he did since it took the attention off of me.

“Didn't your mother give you geography lessons?” Papa asked, frowning.




“Ansala,” Donik said, “that kingdom to the north, the one where Grandpa fought in the war?”

“Yes, son,” Papa said. “We may be at peace now, but no one in this family should forget their treachery, not just against our kingdom, but against my people, the Rathmurtha. They drove us from our ancestral home, scattered our clans, and stole our most precious treasure.”

“The Rathminna horses,” I said. I knew that story well. All three of us siblings did.




“But you never called the raiders in the story Ansalans. You called them--” Las began, but Papa interrupted.

“Tiktorra, yes, I know. There's no stronger curse in my language,” he said. He fixed all of us with a stern gaze. “No more talk of these barbarians under our roof. I won't sully this holy day any further.”

“Stay away from them,” Mama added. “They're trouble. Understood?”

“Yes, Mama,” we all said, but in my heart I already had other plans. Where love is kindled, it takes more than cold water to put out the fire.




I lay awake a long time that night in my little loft. The wind whistled forlornly about the eaves, but for once I didn't feel the cold through the chinks in the wall. I remembered a warm, callused hand, storm cloud eyes, and golden hair that shone like the sun itself. “I want his name,” I whispered to the wind and fell asleep at last.

Speaking of sleep, I need some. Your brothers and sisters still with me awaken early and take much of my energy. Gemma tries hard to be of help, but she's no bigger than Bertrand despite their age difference. I wish you could meet the twins. They're small and dear. I named them for my brothers, using the feminine version of Donik's name for the girl.

Sleep sweetly wherever you are. Ivan. Your mother loves you well.
Field Researcher
#7 Old 29th Dec 2008 at 9:42 PM
Im really liking the way you write. Its getting more interesting now and im looking even more forward to the next chapter...please continue :D
Test Subject
Original Poster
#8 Old 31st Dec 2008 at 6:56 AM
Thanks so much, Sweetsweetie85! I'm starting to figure out how to improve the pics, too, so after chapter 8, the pic quality/resolution starts to improve. I'm glad you're enjoying it, because I'm having a blast making it. :D
Test Subject
Original Poster
#9 Old 1st Jan 2009 at 7:47 AM
Default Tales of Alaethes: Katya's Tale Chapter 3




Katya nearly started out of her skin at the unexpected sound of a loud rapping at the door. She looked out the dirty window only to see a soldier awaiting her answer. Trying not to panic, she opened the door and eyed the man warily. “Yes?”

“Frauen Krieg?” he said a little awkwardly, “you probably don't remember me. I'm—I'm an old friend of Ivan's, Amon Zimmermann.”

“Oh, Amon, of course I remember you,” she said, although in truth the memory was a vague one. “I didn't recognize you in the crown uniform,” she added. Her heart raced in her chest, but she managed a polite smile for him nonetheless. “Won't you come in? My hospitality is a bit bare.”

Not so bitter, Katya, she thought with an inward wince.

If the soldier noticed her sharp tone, he gave no outward sign of it. “Thank you,” he said and stepped inside.



She indicated that he should take a seat on a pile of cushions, some of the few belongings still in her possession from before the revolution. She sat on a pile of rugs, the other holdouts from the family home in Kolnenberg. It was hard to hold back all of the questions racing through her mind. She toyed nervously with her coarsely woven skirt.

Amon watched the twins play, smiling faintly, then raised his gaze to Katya. “I'm not here in an official capacity, so please don't worry, Frauen Krieg. The crown has lost interest in your family since you agreed to the terms of exile from the capitol.”

“Such a relief,” Katya said dryly and arched a brow. She couldn't help herself. Her opinion of Amon raised a tad when he had the decency to color and look away.

“I--” he began, then paused, clearly at a loss for words. “Look,” he switched tacks, “Ivan did something for me a few years ago, something tremendous. I owe him, and since he is no longer here to collect the debt and likely won't be returning—I'm sorry, Frauen Krieg, I'm just speaking the truth as I see it—I'm transferring that debt to you and your family.”


“Young man, I can tell you have a good heart, but what is it you think you can do for us? We may have little, and my husband may be dead, but I am still a Krieg,” she said, lifting her chin. “I won't accept charity.”

“No, nothing like that,” Amon said quickly. He frowned. “What if—what if your husband isn't dead?”



“If you're toying with me, I'll never forgive you,” she whispered.

“I'd never do that. I respect Ivan far too much ever to do such a thing to his mother. I don't know it for certain, but I believe it strongly enough that I felt I should tell you and ask your permission to look into this further,” Amon said with conviction.

“Why ask me? I have no power. I'm nobody to you, just a criminal so reviled even some of my children were taken from me,” she said, no longer bothering to hide her bitterness.

“If I'm discovered, my investigation could have repercussions for your family. There is some risk to you, though I could probably protect your youngest children,” he said.

Katya thought about it. “You truly think Matthjes is alive?”



“I do,” he answered. “I can't tell you how or why without betraying my own cause, but I do believe it, strongly enough that I rode here straight from Kolnenberg to tell you so. Will you accept payment of my debt in Ivan's stead, Frauen Krieg? Will you take the risk?”



“He's my husband, Amon. Of course I'll risk it. Just do what you can to keep my children out of this, please,” she said.

“You have my word,” he said, shaking her hand and turning to leave. He stopped at the door and looked back at her. “I may also be able to track down the location of one of your daughters. I can't promise her return, but I may be able to get word of her for you.”

Katya felt her heart skip a beat and gasped aloud. “If you can do that,” she said softly, “then I will owe you.”

“No,” he said. “I'll tell you when I think I've paid my debt. Sound fair?” He didn't wait for her answer.



Katya stared for some time at the door after he closed it behind himself, her mind reeling. Matthjes alive? Word of Magritte or Skyla? It was almost too much to dare to hope, and yet she did. Something in Amon's eyes told her he was sincere. She wished that she knew his history with Ivan, but like so many things regarding her oldest son, she felt that knowledge would remain beyond her grasp.



Laszlo's insistent whine brought her back to the present. “Read, Mama?” the toddler asked.

“Of course I'll read to you, my dove,” Katya said with a smile. “Let's find Bert and Gemma first, hmm?”
Field Researcher
#10 Old 1st Jan 2009 at 4:22 PM
Love the update! I am very much looking forward to seeing how this turns out. Happy new years by the way!
Test Subject
Original Poster
#11 Old 5th Jan 2009 at 1:00 AM
Thanks! I hope you had a great New Year celebration. Next update tomorrow!
Test Subject
Original Poster
#12 Old 5th Jan 2009 at 7:30 PM
Default Tales of Alaethes: Katya's Tale Chapter 4


I was miserable the rest of that winter into spring. It was torture to see that boy at the kirke every Sabbath and be unable to speak to him or even look at him without getting into more trouble than I wanted to handle. I barely saw Helene while we were snow bound, so I had no one to confide in. I thought I'd burst.



Spring finally arrived, late and wet. Because of the mud, some of my seasonal chores like sweeping the chicken yard and cleaning out the hog pen had to wait. I convinced Mama I'd be of more use to the family as a temporary hire at the Drussel's dairy. I could bring in extra coin and fresh butter and cream.



Of course it was really because I missed Helene and desperately needed her advice, but I knew better than to breathe even a hint of that to Mama. She allowed me to go only if I promised that as soon as it was dry enough I'd quit and expend all of my efforts at home.

Work at the dairy was hard, but Helene and I managed to steal some moments alone. I poured out my heart to her, holding nothing back. She was a good friend, the best sort, for she listened well and promised me she'd find out what she could of the Ansalans. She had a secret weapon, something I longed for, but would never have, an older sister.




Silke often went to Blauvelt Market. She was popular in the village and an object of great admiration and envy for her beauty. The only reason she wasn't yet betrothed was because she had so many suitors that her parents couldn't decide who would be the best for her and the dairy. As they had no living sons, Silke would be the heiress to the business.

Within a week, Silke had my answer for me. The boy's name was Roland St. Clair. He was a squire to the mercenary knight Sir Edmund Raleigh, and they were in Blauvelt because bad storms had delayed the rest of their company in Ossen, somewhere further east on the coast of the inland sea.




You've always taken education for granted, Ivan, because of the generosity of your great uncle, but where I am from, the ability to read and write is a rarity. Mama could, but Papa couldn't. He insisted we children attend her lessons closely. He even took on extra farm work and house chores to give us time for our books. Had he known the reason for my sudden interest in history and geography, I'm sure he would've skinned me.

As it was, he indulged me. I filled my head with exotic sounding names and daydreamed of faraway places. Even then I had it in my head that one day I'd travel to those distant lands with Roland, perhaps when he was a knight. Mama had but one book with maps, and I poured over it greedily. I was determined to get to know this Roland St. Clair and even more determined not to seem like an ignorant bumpkin when I did.


Helene and Silke both approved of my desire, but neither of them could think of a way around my parents. In kirke they were too watchful. At home they kept me too busy for me to be able to go to town without their noticing I was missing.



It was Donik who provided the means, much to my surprise. Mama wanted him to take one of our brood hens and some money to market and bring back some piglets since our sow's breeding didn't seem to take. He said he'd need my help managing the animals. She reluctantly agreed. Almost as soon as we set off, it started to rain, which meant we'd arrive in Blauvelt cold and wet. I wouldn't have agreed to go except that there was something odd in my brother's demeanor.





Soon enough I found out why. He spoke to me in a way he never had before, as though we were equals, as though I were an adult. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so surprised. Only 3½ years separated us. “I know you've had your eye on that Ansalan,” he said abruptly.

I was so taken aback, I stammered, “I—I have no idea what you mean!”

He shot me an amused look. “Don't play games, Katya. I wouldn't have asked Mama to let you come along if I didn't know you wanted this as much as I do.”




“You want to meet Roland?” I blurted then slapped my hands over my mouth. I didn't mean to let on that I knew the boy's name!

He just smirked and shook his head, saying, “No, my interest is in the older one.” He paused and looked at me for a long time. It was a very serious look. It scared me a little, because Donik was usually so easygoing and even tempered. Finally he spoke again, and what he said scared me even more. “I want to be a mercenary.”




“You can't!” I cried. “You can't leave, Doni. You can't leave me!”

His smile was sad when he touched my cheek and said, “You're almost a grown woman, Katskya, and I am a grown man. You'll be married within the year if Mama has her way, and I'd probably be married too by now if Papa didn't need me so badly on the farm.”

“That's different,” I said. He irritated me with that talk of marriage. I knew very well who Mama had in mind for me, and I wanted no part of it, not since meeting Roland, at least. “If I married, we'd still be in walking distance. The cottage rent will pass to you. You know that! Lissa Roth has her eye on you, and--”




“I hate farming!” he snapped. He so rarely raised his voice that the rest of my objection died on my lips. I realized for the first time that I didn't know my big brother nearly as well as I thought I did.

“Las takes to it like a fish to water. Las can assume the rent,” he said more quietly. He shot me a pleading look that made my heart ache. “I want more out of life, Katya,” he said. “This is the first time I've ever felt like I have a chance for more. Can't you understand? Will you keep my secret?”




“Of course I understand,” I told him. How could I not given my thoughts over those past few months? “We'll both keep quiet about today. I promise.”

My heart nearly hammered out of my chest the rest of the way to Blauvelt. I barely even felt the rain, and I couldn't believe I was finally going to meet Roland for real. I didn't want to think about what my brother just confided. I'm ashamed of it now, but such was my preoccupation with Roland that it wasn't hard to put it out of my mind.




That's enough writing for now. My hand is cramping, and what happened next is emotional for me. I had forgotten just how emotional until now. Speaking of emotional, a mysterious friend of yours came by yesterday. I dare not get my hopes too high yet. However, he could discover something very important to me.

I know talk of Matthjes upsets you with good reason. I also know what you think of religion, but if you were here right now, I'd ask you to pray for Matthjes and me nonetheless. I hope you understand why one day, if not now.
Mad Poster
#13 Old 5th Jan 2009 at 9:04 PM
This story is amazing, and I love the scenery and theme of the story. Very creative indeed

"Going to the chapel of Love"

the girls club . statistics . yearbook .
Field Researcher
#14 Old 5th Jan 2009 at 9:10 PM
As always the update is still great. Curious to see what this emotional thing is :smash: looking forward to next one.
Test Subject
Original Poster
#15 Old 7th Jan 2009 at 8:39 PM
Dreamydre15, thanks so much! The artists, modders, and meshers who worked on "The Dark Project" over on MtS2, the creative minds behind the Parsimonious website, Simages, and many more are all to thank for the look of this story. If there weren't custom content creators out there interested in historical sets, furniture, and costuming, Tales of Alaethes would never have been possible to depict with the Sims 2. I'm so grateful for all their hard work and just hope the story can do it justice.

Sweetsweetie85, thank you. Your continued feedback and encouragement never fail to make my day. Update tomorrow, and now I had best stop procrastinating and get to taking more pics.
Test Subject
Original Poster
#16 Old 8th Jan 2009 at 5:51 PM
Default Tales of Alaethes: Katya's Tale Chapter 5




Katya had become a master of conserving and scrounging. The smallest scrap of trash could become fuel to heat the dirt floored cottage. Proper use of the vent insured that the children would have a bit of warmth when they awakened to eat their thin gruel.

She could do nothing about the milk turning sour save hope that the soldier responsible for their ration didn't forget that her toddlers had little else to eat. Her own milk had dried months ago from inadequate nourishment.

With the kitchen no longer freezing cold, she turned to her greatest solace, her journal. In the dark silence of predawn, she had time to write and reflect. She needed that time in a house full of small children with nothing to divert them but her and each other.



I had never been allowed to go to market without Mama or Papa before. It felt so different. I felt different, grown up. Donik smiled at me and led me to the livery stable. We needed directions to the mercenaries' quarters.

I felt like I was walking in a dream. I pinched myself twice just to be sure I really was there. As we made our way through the crowd, I wondered if people could tell we were up to something. I worried someone would recognize us and tell our parents. It seems silly now, the thought of village folk paying attention to two farm brats, but at the time my fear was almost palpable.




Street addresses in Blauvelt are very confusing. There's no real rhyme or reason to them, no order like you're used to in Kolnenberg. We passed the place three times before we realized we had found it. By then our brood hen was getting a little impatient.

I waited in the street while Donik approached the house. A most disagreeable housekeeper answered the door. She looked at both of us as though we were something she found stuck to the bottom of her shoe. “Yes?” she asked sharply.




“We'd like to see Sir Edmund and Squire Roland,” Donik said. I'm sure he sounded polite to her, but I could hear the strain in his voice. He always hated snobs.

“They're out. Do you have an appointment?” she asked.

Donik and I glanced at each other. “No,” he said. I was so anxious by this time I wanted to slap the woman and scream.

“Then you can't see the soldiers,” she said and started to close the door.

“We want to make an appointment!” I shouted, desperate not to be turned away and at my wit's end with the hag.

“You'd have to see Sir Edmund about that,” she said with a sneer and shut the door in our faces.




“We can't see them without making an appointment, and we can't make an appointment without seeing them?” Donik growled. He was in a right rage, and even though I was every bit as angry, I knew one of us had to keep a clear head or we could be arrested for causing a scene. We were very much out of our league in that part of town.

“Calm down,” I said as soothingly as possible, given the circumstance. “Let's sit down over there and think about this a minute.”




“Maybe they won't be gone for long. We can wait a while,” I suggested.

“Maybe they will. We can't wait long. We've already been longer than Mama will expect. Much longer, and we'll never hear the end of the questions,” he said.

“We'll say the piglets got loose and we had to catch them,” I reasoned. “We can wait, Doni, at least for a little while. If they don't come today, we'll try again in a couple of weeks.”




“We might not have a couple of weeks. The weather is getting better every day. They could be gone by then,” he retorted.



His words were ice water down my spine. It never occurred to me that they could leave before I even got the chance to speak to Roland. My expression must have given me away. “We'll find a way,” he reassured me. “We're both clever and determined.” He gave me a searching look. “Katya, do you actually have feelings for that boy?”

I knew it had to sound crazy to him. It sounded crazy to me, and I had lived with the feeling for four months. “I love him, Doni. I don't know how or why. I just do.”

I'll never know what he intended to say to that, because at that moment the mercenaries came into view. I never thought to ask him about it later. Too much happened, although I like to think that he understood. Donik was good in that way. I was fortunate to have him close to me for the short time that I did.

My, but the time has flown. I had best get the gruel started. Your brother and sister will be awakening soon and ravenous. We have little enough that making them wait seems a cruelty beyond measure.




Katya stood and went to busy herself in the kitchen. Soon enough, Gemma and Bert burst into the room crying, “Mama, we're hungry!”

“Well, it's a very good thing that the pot is on the stove, isn't it?” Katya asked with forced cheer. There'd be time for the tears she felt threatening to come later, when the children went down for their naps.
Field Researcher
#17 Old 10th Jan 2009 at 9:21 PM
Very nice! Its so good i wish it were finished already and yet its just started.
Test Subject
Original Poster
#18 Old 12th Jan 2009 at 6:39 AM
Thanks, Sweetsweetie85! Yes, it has just started. There's quite a way to go, and I hope you enjoy the twists and turns I have planned along the way. I'm not one for hints, but I think it's already pretty obvious Katya is in for a bumpy ride.
Test Subject
Original Poster
#19 Old 12th Jan 2009 at 8:04 PM
Default Tales of Alaethes: Katya's Tale Chapter 6




“But I'm not sleepy!” Bert protested with the logic of a five year old.

“You always say that and fall fast asleep within a few minutes of your head hitting the pillow,” Katya countered.

“Not this time,” Bert said, skipping a circle around her merrily and easily avoiding her attempts to snag him.



Give me patience, she prayed silently. “Try, darling. If you really can't sleep, I'll let you get up in ten minutes.”

“You promise?” he asked, wide eyed.

“Promise,” she said with a smile. One day this won't work anymore, she thought. Thank the Lord it does now. They wear me out.



Katya waited just five minutes before going in to check on Bert. Smiling to herself at what she saw, she left him sleeping and returned to her journal. She had kept her past secret for so long from everyone, even her husband, that it felt good finally to get it out, even if it was just on parchment.

It was worth the wait just to see the sour look on the housekeeper's face when Sir Edmund graciously agreed to admit us to the house. Donik and the knight went into another room to talk in private, leaving me with Roland and the odious housekeeper.

“Make us some tea,” he said to her and turned his full attention to me.




You would've laughed at your poor mother, Ivan. For all of my plans not to be a complete bumpkin, I found myself so tongue tied I could barely squeak out two words. I had never been in such a fine home before, never drunk real tea, never sat across from such a devastatingly gorgeous boy, and never heard a more captivating accent. He turned our harsh language to music. I sat there like a lump and felt like nothing else in the world existed, except us.

To this day I can't tell you a thing he said to me save two things that gave me such joy I thought I'd faint. He thought I was interesting, and he wanted to get to know me better. I was so captivated by the flow of his words, I found myself listening more to how he said things than what he said, but I latched onto those two statements as though my life depended on them. I thought then that if I died suddenly, I'd die the happiest girl on earth.




I didn't have time to make specific plans to see him again. Donik's conversation with Sir Edmund didn't last nearly long enough. I could tell by the fake smile Doni gave that something was wrong. He gave me no time to question him, saying abruptly, “Time to go, Katya.”

“I'll talk to you again soon,” Roland said with such promise in his eyes that I flushed to the roots of my hair without even knowing why.

I'm sure I stammered something inane. Doni hurried me out so quickly and so roughly I hardly had time to think and barely managed to grab the chicken's basket in time.




He outpaced me once we were outside. I had to shout to him to get him to slow down. The warmth I felt from Roland and the tea was starting to give way to a cold, hard knot. Something was obviously very wrong.

He refused to answer any of my questions in the street. I finally left him alone. It wasn't like him to be mean to me or to ignore me. That was always Las. I figured if I gave him space, he'd tell me when he could. It wasn't until we bought the piglets and were well out of Blauvelt on the way home that he told me what was wrong.

It was terrible. Even now, it brings me to tears to recall his utter despair.




He cried silently, but the sobs wracked his body so hard that I feared for a moment he was in apoplexy. I tried to comfort him. I knelt beside him and held him to me, rocking him as though he were a child. It was a long time before he spoke to me. When he did, he sounded dead inside. “I'm a fool,” he said, “an ignorant fool of a moon calf.”



I stood and demanded, “Did that Ansalan knight call you that?” Roland or no, if Sir Edmund had done this to my brother by making fun of him, I intended to march back to Blauvelt and tear that house down to its foundations to get at him if necessary.

“No,” Donik said. “No, he was very polite and very matter-of-fact. I'm too old, too old to train for their order. Had I come to them four years ago....” he trailed off.

“Oh, Doni,” I said. I felt so helpless. I could see that the heart had been ripped right out of him. “Is there no way?”




He didn't answer me. He just stood up and grabbed me in his arms, crying again. This time it was bitter and hopeless, unrestrained. For the first time ever, I felt older than him, and I felt very alone. It was awful, because I knew no matter what I did or what I said I couldn't fix this for him. I couldn't give him back his dream. I couldn't give him the life he wanted, the one he deserved.

All I could do was to be there and pray that somehow that would be enough. I was still naïve enough then to believe that was possible, that you could love someone enough to mend a broken life. I know better now.




I'm sorry, my son. I can't write about this anymore. You saw your Uncle Donik at your grandparents' funerals. You know what the coal mine has done to him. That was the day my brother started to die inside, the day he settled for something much less than his dream. I refuse to devote one more word to it.
Field Researcher
#20 Old 12th Jan 2009 at 8:15 PM
Yes you can definatly tell shes in for a bumpy one. Thats so sad about donik
#21 Old 13th Jan 2009 at 3:42 AM
This is so intense! :x
Can't wait for an updatee~
Test Subject
Original Poster
#22 Old 15th Jan 2009 at 4:28 AM
Sweetsweetie85, yeah, poor Donik hasn't had a very good life.

Nanakon, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Thanks for the feedback! Update tomorrow!
Test Subject
Original Poster
#23 Old 15th Jan 2009 at 8:56 PM
Default Tales of Alaethes: Katya's Tale Chapter 7




It had been nearly two weeks since Katya wrote in the journal, two weeks of thinking of all that her writing had stirred and feeling emotions she thought she had buried forever.

Not that she showed it outwardly, for Katya had the children to consider. For them she came alive, laughing, singing, and playing games between the grueling housework. She was determined they would never know how dire and fragile their situation truly was.

Regardless of Amon's assurance that the crown had lost interest, she knew something that perhaps he did not. She knew her second-born yet lived and even now was responsible for the crown forces' hardest struggles in the capitol, Kolnenberg.



If they knew you were the Street Fox, our lives wouldn't be worth a half bibbin, Alaris, she thought. Keep to the ways of your furry namesake, or it's all over for us.

She felt a sense of quiet pride in her son. Not only had he taken Matthjes' place in the revolution when Matthjes was captured, he had become thrice the leader his father had been. He possessed all of Matthjes' strength and none of his idealism. Fortunately, Katya thought grimly. That idealism was his downfall.



As she became aware of what she saw through the window, Katya gave a cry that was half laugh, half sob. She rushed out the door, heedless of Gemma's and Bert's worried questions. She had eyes for one person only, her bruised, cut, and emaciated daughter, Skyla.



They squeezed one another tightly enough to make their ribs creak, and Katya covered the twelve year old girl's face with kisses until the girl finally laughingly protested, “You'll take my very skin off, Mama!”

Only then did Katya turn to Amon. “Words can't express what you've done for us,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.



“I pay my debts, Frauen Krieg. In this case, I have but started,” he said.

Katya narrowed her eyes in thought, the excited chatter of her other children greeting Skyla only in her peripheral awareness. “Amon Zimmermann,” she murmured. Her eyes widened suddenly in realization. “You're the van Hausen imposter!”

Amon colored deeply, but he didn't look away. “Yes. It was only thanks to Ivan and Beemer that I avoided a terrible fate.”



He sighed deeply and shook his head. “Perhaps I'll tell you that story one day, but not today.” He glanced over her shoulder at the children. “You'll want time with your family, and I have work to do,” he said. He paused and eyed her very intently. “I have a message for your son.”


“I'm sorry, but I have no idea how to get in touch with Ivan,” she said. “He left rather angry, I'm afraid.”

“I'm aware of the circumstances of Ivan's departure,” he said a bit dryly. “That's not the son I mean.”

Katya grew very still, her mouth suddenly dry. “Oh?” she asked with as much nonchalance as she could muster.

“Tell your son we're close, that if he knows what's good for him, and you, he'll get out of Kolnenberg and lie low for a while.”



“You're a crown soldier,” Katya said. “Why are you telling me this? Not only could it get you dishonorably discharged from service, it could get you hanged as a traitor. Why?”

“Yes, I'm the king's man,” he said. “But before that, I was Ivan's friend and Alaris', too. That's the trouble with civil war, Frauen Krieg. Not only is it never civil, but it's also nearly impossible to maintain pure loyalties.”



“If I catch him, I'll turn him over to King Naar. Tell him what I told you, Frauen, and you'll spare all of us that grief. Good day,” he said.

"What makes you so certain I'm in contact with my son?" she asked, holding her breath and praying she didn't just push him too far.

He quirked a wry smile and said, "The crown may have lost interest in you Kriegs. I haven't." With that he turned swiftly on his heel and walked away.



Katya and Skyla walked around the cottage together, watching Amon's back as he walked back to his horse, concealed well in the forest. “We can trust him, I think,” Skyla said softly. “He's not like the others. He never hurt me, and the only time he touched me was to keep me from falling off his horse.”



“Plus, he spoke very highly of Ivan. Is there any food? I'm starving!”
Field Researcher
#24 Old 16th Jan 2009 at 6:38 PM
Yay her daughter is back! Very nice update, as always cant wait for next one.
Test Subject
Original Poster
#25 Old 17th Jan 2009 at 12:56 AM
Thanks, Sweetsweetie85! Yep, Skyla has been returned. Amon is just full of surprises.
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