Other Fan Fiction ❯ The story of a Whitemage: Ramora's Memories ❯ Chapter one ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

The Story of a Whitemage: Ramora's memories.

Summary- Born and raised, here in San'Doria, By my human mother, Tatiana, and my Galkan father, Whisperingkiwi. Yes, I know. Odd name, but what galka has a normal name? Anyways, This is a story. A story about a Whitemage named Ramora, and her struggles to become just like her human mother. Who is this Elvaan, You ask? I'll tell you, Me. My name's Ramora, and here's my story.


As I watched my mother fight battles alongside my father, I knew. I would one day become a Great Whitemage, just like her. My bretheran detested the idea, suggesting instead that I be a Warrior and serve under the Royal family in the Imperial army. Being a loyal San'Dorian, I conceded. But I longed. Oh, how I longed to become a Whitemage.

Clang!

" I can't do it anymore!"

Whisperingkiwi looked up from sharpening his scythe, his eyebrow cocked with curiousity and a frown on his face, "Do what?" he asked.
I whimpered, slumping to the floor in a heap of young Elvaan limbs, " I can't pretend to want to be a warrior when I don't want to be one." The galka shrugged, "Quit then." Damn him, always the blunt one. "I can't disappoint the council," I whispered, "They'd kick me out for sure!" Whisperingkiwi rose with a sigh, returning his scythe to the buckles across his back, "You know they wouldn't." He plucked my sword from it's spot on the wooden floor, "Here." He handed it to me, giving me a look. "If you can't act brave, what's the point of being an adventurer?" I looked at the sword before sheathing it slowly, "I guess your right." I muttered gloomily. "Of course I'm right," He said cheerfully, "I'm always right." I rolled my eyes, "Yeah until momma proves you wrong," I pointed out. The galka pouted, then scoffed, "Watev!"

I plopped down at the table, my eyes downcast, "Where did you learn that stupid word?" I asked, an eyebrow cocked. "I made it up myself," The galka grinned cheekily, his stance cocky. "Okay," I mumbled and placed my chin on the table. He deflated, placing a hand on my shoulder, "Hey," He said in concern, "what's wrong?" Tears pooled in my eyes, threatining to spill over, "It's just," I sobbed, "I want to be a Whitemage, like momma, but," I hiccuped softly, "I would never live up to her reputation." My chocolate eyes turned to lock with his, "I would shame you and I couldn't bare that." He shook his head with a smirk, "Ah, how young and naive you are." I frowned, "What do you mean?" he wagged a finger at me, "You only shame yourself by not trying, you silly girl."

I stood up in a huff, "I'm not silly!" I whined. "You're acting silly right now," The Dark knight chuckled. "Meh, whatever." I pouted. "Bang, bang, bang!" A feminine voice huffed, "You're both dead!" I looked up in surprise, "Momma!" I grabbed the hume in a tight hug, "I missed you," The Whitemage grunted slighly but hugged me back, "I missed you, too," She said. "Now, what did I tell you about locking the door?" She scolded, her eyes set on her beloved. Kiwi sulked, "Ramora was the last one through." Her eyes snapped to me, "That wasn't smart, Ram." Kiwi snickered as my ear's lowered with my pout. "And you," Tatiana directed her attention back to him, "don't try to blame it on her, she's your daughter, geez."

I looked away, thinking back to ealrier, during training.

- - -

"No, no, no!" My Instructor cried out, frustration clear in his voice, "You swing it like this!" He unsheathed his sword, making a graceful arch to the left. "Like so," He did it again. My eyebrow twitched. Calm down, Ram. I thought to myself, No need to get angry. I crossed my arms and turned away. A soft 'humph' escaped my mouth. "Disgusting Elvaan," He sneered. My Instructor was racist against all things but his kind. Humes. He thought every other breed distasteful and vile. I think, were it not for his skills in training, The San'Dorian Council would have removed him from San'Doria long ago. The only thing he hated more than Elvaan were thieves.

"Ramie! pssst, Ramie!" Speaking of thieves. . .

I turned, not at all suprised to see my friend sitting on top of the stone wall, sitting down sideways. "Slice," I hissed. "what are you doing here?!" He grinned roguishly. " I came to see you," he said with a 'duh' tone of voice. I frowned. "If you get caught-" he laughed, cutting me off. "Like those tin heads could catch me." He winked. "Don't wory, Ramie. I'll be fine." I blushed and turned away, "Who said I was worried?" I mumbled. He grinned, "Are you blushing, Ramie?" I blushed harder, "NO!" I denied, but he knew I was lying; he always did. "Aww," he cooed, "you're so sweet, Ramie." I groaned. My face was hot, I was as red as a mithran tomato. "You're too nice to be a warrior," He suddenly said, but then grinned, "you'll make a great Whitemage, I know it." I opened my mouth to reply but- "You there, Thief!"- a voice interrupted me. The voice of my Instructor.

Slice grinned and gave me a mock salute before taking off in a sprint, or what he called 'flee'. "Bye Ramie!" he called back to me, waving over his shoulder and in spite of myself, I waved back. Three hulking guards, adorned in heavy silver armor, passed me by and gave chase to my thieving companion. I knew they wouldn't catch him. They never did. I chuckled, catching the unwanted attention of my instructor, "Elf! Eighty laps around San'Doria, starting now!" He growled out, his face red and cheeks puffed out, I thought it funny and laughed. Big mistake. "You think this funny? Very well, One hundred sixty laps! Move,move,move!" I scampered off, my mood darkening with every lap I ran.

How I loathed my Instructor and thought to myself, could this day get any worse?

It started to rain.

Not normal rain, It was pouring.

I groaned.

- - -

I walked silently through the crowds in San'Doria, humming the soft tune only San'Dorians knew. Our theme. Soft grunts and quickened sprinting caught my attention as I titled my head to the right to listen better. It was a spar! I never saw one before, I just had to see! I ran in that direction, my feet light and quick so as not to get caught. I paused as they came into view. It was Xandrieliex! I looked over, And Kechuma! I smiled. This would be interesting.

Kechuma was a galka and Xandrielix was an Elvaan, but I consider them both my brothers. I don't really know if I do have a brother. You see, my real parents died some time ago, when I was young. I can't remember my dad much, and I barely remember my mom.

I snapped from my thoughs as a hand waved in my face. "Ramora. What are you doing here?" It was Xandrielix. I grinned sheepishly and scuffed my boot, "I'm sorry, Xan. I heard you guys sparring and came to see." He nodded. I was always jealous of the way Xandrielix walked, even the way he talked, he was just so. . .so regal and refined. Nothing like me. I looked over his shoulder and saw Kechuma, a flask of water gripped in his hand as he wiped his sweat beaded brow. I waved. He stared at me a moment before nodding his head in greeting.

Kechuma was the strong but silent type. He was a great monk. He and Xan were the talk of the town. Everyone talked about Xandrielix The Ninja and Kechuma The Monk. They were a formidable pair, striking fear in citizens and Beastmen alike. I wasn't afraid, though. I'd know them long enough not to be.

Kechuma walked up to us, his tail swishing softly behind him. Sometimes, I wish I had a tail. Unfortunately all I had were these stupid big ears! I may hate them right now, but Elvaans could hear better than any race around the world! My ears and my height help me get out a lot of tough situations. I grinned at him. His lips were set in their usual grim line. He and my father rarely smiled, especially not in town or around people they didn't know. An adventurer had to be ready at all times, showing no weakness at all.

Someday I'll be an Adventurer, too!