Author: Samwise

Story: Kyr Adventures: 2 of 5

Series: n/a

Rating: PG-13: Just in case

Characters: Sheila and Bobby

Summary: Sheila and Bobby tell their story next (Teaser for the Chapter)

Note: This story is my submission for the "Adventures in Kyr" contest by Zak. I've been given permission to put it up under my own addy, since it includes chapters on each of the children. Also, Traever is not the Travaar mentioned as the Dungeon Guard of the City of Tarrod in “Child of the Stargazer”.

Author’s Note: It has been some time since I updated due to severe health problems, a full time job, university, and my father’s recent death. I will try to update these teaser’s further as I find time. Please at least enjoy a hint of what is to come…

Feedback: Please? I love comments: samwise_baggins@yahoo.co.uk

Webpage: http://www.geocities.com/samwise_baggins/index.html

"Traever? What an unusual name." Something about Sheila's tone, the look in her eyes as she once more began to play with the eight-point pendant, drew the attention of those sitting there.

"So, where'd you get the necklace, Sheila?" Diana leaned over to study it, noting the sudden flare of heat in her friend's face. Intrigued, she grinned and shrugged. "Okay, I think it's your turn to start talking, girl. Hank explained, to my satisfaction, why he's drunk off his… butt; now explain why you've got a dreamy look every time you touch that pretty thing."

Bobby laughed, ignoring the glare he received from his older sister. Since she remained quiet, embarrassed, and pretty much tight-mouthed, the blond boy grinned even wider. "Well, if she won't tell I will."

"Bobby, don't you dare!"

His laughter cut her off and she suddenly whirled to the others. "No, he'll tell it all wrong. I'll tell."

But the boy launched into a convoluted story, the girl trying to speak around and over him. As the pair jumped in with different, seemingly random explanations, the others became steadily more confused. It took a lot of questions before they sorted out what the pair was talking about.

As the rest of the group wandered off to look around Kyr, Hank still standing behind them, Sheila grabbed her brother's arm. "You're staying with me, Bobby. I don't care if the others want to split up."

"Aw, Sis, you're no fun! How can I get a break with you smothering me?"

She glared at her little brother, but he merely grumbled some more, following her obediently. His club was slung over his shoulder, her cloak hanging loosely about hers. Neither seemed terribly aware that they were actually drawing the attention of many of the townspeople for their unusual weapons… most of the time people didn't even recognize them as anything special.

A pretty woman stopped them with a call about sweet fruits. Bobby's stomach growled and Sheila looked startled. "Oh… Bobby, we don't have any money!" He looked up at her, shrugging, trying to mentally tell his hunger to go away and stop worrying Sheila. The woman came closer.

Sheila shook her head, trying to head the woman off before she could offer to sell them something. She hated having to refuse, knowing her brother never had enough to eat in this world. But what could she do? Without money, neither of them would get a meal until the group hunted something up that night.

Not to be deterred, the woman again took a step towards them. She smiled at the redhead and offered a ripe plum. "Sweet fruit, Miss. Sweet fruit." The vendor seemed not to notice the misery and guilt in her intended customer's eyes.

Shaking her head, holding both hands up, palms outward, Sheila backed up. She tried to form a protest to the sales pitch, but found herself tripping over something and falling. She couldn't catch herself as she fell down a flight of steps, curling to protect her head. Bobby hadn't even seemed to notice her fall yet, as he wasn't calling out to her.

Suddenly, her fall was stopped short. A strong grasp encircled the back of her neck and she felt a muscular arm slip under her waist, supporting her. "Easy now, Lass." The voice was like melted honey poured over her, all warm and deep and enticing. She blinked her eyes open to see a pair of beautiful violet eyes laughing down into her own.

Her rescuer was another teen, solid and strong, with longish black hair and those oh-so-pretty eyes. He was dressed like the rest of the townsfolk, in sturdy peasant clothing and strong boots; however, something about him seemed to set him apart from the others they'd seen that morning. He smiled down at her, the amusement tugging at her own emotions and causing her to return the stranger's smile.

Bobby's worried voice broke through the spell. She blinked, stunned, and turned her head to look up the long flight of stone steps. There was her brother, hurtling down them towards her, unheeding of his own safety in his efforts to get to his sister's side. "Are you hurt, Sheila?" He skidded down the last three steps, scraping one leg as he flopped down next to the pair of teens.

The older male merely laughed, his rich voice seeming to soothe Bobby as much as it had Sheila. "She will recover with time." Then he was lifting her, the younger boy standing simultaneously as if on some silent cue. As the dark-haired teen ascended the stairs, the blond followed without protest, smiling for an unknown reason.

They came to the top of the steps and the youth swung the young woman gently to her feet, keeping a supporting arm around her. "Have you come to enjoy the festival?"

Though the young man didn't remove his eyes from the redhead, Bobby felt included, anyway. With a grin, he hefted his club and gestured to the crowd. "Yeah, but we thought we'd check out how solid your building materials are."

Sheila turned agonized eyes on her brother. "Bobby!" She flushed as her brother laughed.

"I would suggest another method for testing, then." The teen's voice soothed Sheila's ruffled feelings and he was rewarded with her sweet smile. "Will you accompany me today? I was in need of company."

"Oh, we couldn't."

"Sure, we'd like that."

The siblings looked at one another, and Sheila frowned, shaking her head at her brother. Sure, she wanted to go around the festival with this handsome native, but she didn't really know him… How could she trust him? The girl reached for her brother's arm and sighed regretfully. "We… shouldn't."

With a nod, the boy touched his own chest. "My name is Reveart. I'll treat you? Please?" He offered an arm, his honeyed tones rippling over the girl beseechingly. "I normally accompany a friend, but she is gone now." Something about his violet eyes bespoke sorrow, though his smile never wavered.

Her heart went out to him. "Oh… well, I suppose a couple of hours wouldn't hurt." She hesitated, then put her hand on his arm. "Um… my name is Sheila. This is my brother, Bobby."

Reveart nodded and looked relieved to have their company. He didn't say another word and neither did the siblings, but somehow it didn't feel necessary to talk. The young man guided them past the crowded stalls, including the persistent fruit-seller, and headed for a place with more room. Along the dirt path between the wooden buildings, the young man stopped in front of a solid wooden door. When he opened that door, mouth-watering smells rushed over them, making both Bobby and Sheila gasp as their stomachs rumbled.

"Oh… we…" Sheila tried to protest, knowing they had no money to pay for whatever was inside that delicious smelling building.

Their host laughed down at her. "I said I would treat you, and I mean it. Come, enjoy the Festival of Kyr with me." With that bit of encouragement, the teen guided the pair inside the darkened room.

Inside, torchlight soon dispelled the darker confines of the inn’s large taproom. There were people everywhere, laughing and talking, drinking and relaxing. The festival was in full swing both inside and out; the obvious enjoyment of the people surrounding them lending a carefree air to the three newly arrived young people.

As someone passed by with a tray of meat and warm bread, Reveart gestured to a table to the side, moving them expertly around a group of youths in some sort of drinking party. Sheila didn’t even glance at the youths, not approving of their chosen past time and not caring just who might be inclined to so waste their time. Bobby was too involved with the food being carried around them to pay attention to the other patrons; he was hungry.