Temple sat on the back of Archer, her black Marwari Horse. Waiting for the sun to rise, when she would ride in to city of Tilk and would she what she could find that day. Temple lived alone, in a small shack in the middle of the Tilk Forest. Most of the people living in Tilk where Resvelds’, Meladrins’ like Temple were very few in numbers.
Archer shifted his weight and whinnied. Temple patted the side of his neck calmingly. A soft orange glow started forming in the sky, signaling that the sun was about to be seen across the sky. Temple clicked her tongue, and Archer started trotting out of the tree line and towards the small dirt road. Tilk could be seen in the distance, the tall towers creating shadows across the rest of the city. Temple dropped the reins for a moment and pulled her white-blonde hair back out of her face. She picked up the reins and lightly squeezed Archer’s sides with her knees, sending him galloping across the dirt path, dust flying up behind him.
The landscape was mostly barren, except for the occasional bush or tree. A few small ponds were scattered around, but mostly it was flat grass land. Temple slowed Archer down to a canter, and turned right at a split in the road, instead of going in the main entrance she came in through the back. It caused less attention to be brought upon her.
They started passing the small farms on the outskirts of the city. Temple slowed Archer even more until he was trotting, the back gate coming up. At this point the horse knew what he was supposed to do, he had taken this same path for almost two years with Temple. He slowed himself to a walk and turned slightly to the left towards the hitching posts. The loud commotions started to feel Temple’s ears. Archer stopped at the post, and Temple slid out of the saddle and tied him to the bar. She patted his neck before walking into the gate.
The white stone road was a dust yellow after the recent storm. Resvelds stood around, conversing with their wealthy neighbors. Temple pulled the hood of her white trench coat over her head to cover her pointed ears. She turned behind the first row of stalls and followed the small trail until she reached Crint, a small book store. Every day she came here and stayed for hours. Temple slowly opened the door and made sure no one was watching her. Those kinds of things paranoid her.
Inside the walls were made of old wood, matching the floors. There were very few candles that lined the walls, giving it a nice warm feeling. Crescent stood near the front of the store, putting a few books on the shelves.
“What have you planned for today?” Temple asked, making her way towards the front.
Cresent turned around and smiled, her blue eyes shimmered in the low light. “I just wanted to speak with you, about Elantris.” She set down the books she had been stacking. “I think it could be good for you.”
Temple shook her head, “Elantris? Why would I want to go there?” She snorted.
“Child, there is nothing for you here. Take your few belongings and Archer then go to Elantris. There’s a group of Resvelds going in a couple days.” Crescent sighed, “One of the other Meladrin are going as well, you can travel with her.”
“Why would I leave, I have it perfectly fine here.” She thought of where she had lived for so long, alone. “And there is here. This is my home.” Temple pulled her hood down, and let her hair fall over her shoulders.
Crescent shook her head at Temple, “There is nothing for you here, you are disrespected each and every day. And your ears are the cause of most of it.” She touched one of the book, “It will be a new start.” Temple looked up at her, “So what will it be, my child?” Crescent asked her, hopefulness in her voice.
Temple looked at her feet for a moment. Thinking about whether it was worth it or not. “If I go, I expect that I will see you there sometime soon.” Temple nodded her head, “I will leave in two days.” She said before walking out the back door.
EDIT EVERYTHING/TRASH THE THIRD ONE/ REWRITE MOST OF OTHERS
[03] Wolf
Why do I always end up here?, Temple thought as she looked around the infirmary. The gash on her arm had been stitched, leaving a line of wire like string from wrist to elbow. Around it the skin was bright red and puffy, should be an interesting scar. The arrow tip that had flown itself into her leg was still sitting right next to her bone. For whatever reason they had decided to leave it.
Coy came around from behind a cloth and looked at Temple with a smirk on his face. “Little Meladrins shouldn’t engage in things that aren’t their problems,” He said standing across from her. “And you lost your colors.” The cloak and pants had been ruined, being sliced and covered in dark red blood they had thrown them away. Now she wore dark brown pants and her light blue shirt which was still usable.
“Nothing a little money can fix.” Temple growled standing up, putting weight on her leg for the first time since the battle. A bump of wrappings could be seen under the pants, every time she moved there was a slight click in her leg.
Coy put his arm under hers, she noticed he had a small wooden box with carvings on the top. “What is that?” She asked, moving his arm away.
He set the box where Temple had been sitting. A small clasp on the front of the box was undone and he opened it. Sitting inside on a bed of hay were to curved daggers. “Where did you get those?” She asked, they had been the ones she lost in the battle. The blades had been polished, the steel shining in the low light. Coy said nothing, “How did you find these?” She asked again, more forcefully.
“A man gave them to me, said he found them near an old cabin of his.” Coy closed the box again and looked at her, “Said they were covered in blood and seemed in need of cleaning. They are yours, are they not?” He handed the box to her, “I can’t fix your clothing situation though.”
“Thank you,” Temple said, was hoping these evil things would be lost, she thought thinking about them. The daggers had been passed down generations in her family. For nothing good. “I need training, and I’m sure you can help me with that.”
Coy looked at her leg, “You can barely walk, let alone swing blades and quick movements,” His voice got louder as he said this. Temple stared at him, squinting her eyes. “Ok fine.” He said flatly holding up his hands.
Temple held the box under her arm, as she limped out of the infirmary. Coy followed behind her, giving her directions to the Templars training area. A small room with an open room served for training to newly joined Templars. Temple sat the small box on a stone bench in the corner of the room, pulling out the daggers and spinning them in her hands. Coy pulled two small swords from behind his back. “Would have been nice to know you had those.” Temple said moving towards the center of the room. “Now don’t sit around talking and lets actually do something productive.” She growled.
“I’m going to start calling you wolf because you growl so much.” Coy smirked, “Now, since you are injured, I want you to act like your defending yourself. I promise I won’t go easy on you,” He moved a few steps away and held his swords in front of him.
Temple held her daggers in her hands and spun them as she moved around Coy. His feet were planted as he turned to face her. A quick movement caught her off guard, Coy had leapt towards her, the sound of swords hitting the ground rang in her ears. She swung her arm out, catching the fabric of Coy’s cloak causing a slight tear. Her leg buckled as she moved back, causing her to stumble. A sword came from above her, only barely being caught by the curved blades of her daggers.
“Are you done acting like your leg is fine?” Coy asked with a blank look in his eyes. Temple ripped the sword from his hands and threw it behind her. “First you tear my clothing, then you throw my sword.” He said clicking his tongue and grinning.
Another growl came from Temple’s throat as she stood up and pushed past Coy. “My leg is fine, but how fine can it be with an arrow tip in it?” She limped to the side of the room and leaned against the wall. The stitching on her arm had become agitated and began to puff up again. Light rain drops fell from the clouds, sending Coy hiding underneath a small over hang. “It’s only water.” Temple said holding her arm. The pain in her leg was making her irritated.
“I hate water.” He pulled his hood over his head and shrunk down.
Temple chuckled, “Cat.”
[02] Kings Colors
What a great day for another panic attack, Temple thought as she stepped out of the cathedral. Looking around she noticed weird looks coming a few Resveld. Her cheeks started burning as she looked at herself, realizing she was the only one wearing the Meladrin kings' colors. Her job now was to find the city’s meeting hall.
“Are you lost?” Someone asked from behind her, causing her to jump. She turned to see a tall Meladrin with blonde hair. “Do you need help finding something?” He asked again with a deep voice.
Temple slowly turned around, “The meeting hall.” She said flatly. Her hood slightly covered her eyes, as she looked down at the ground.
“Joining the Templars? I am to, I can help you get there.” He dipped his head slightly, “My name is Coy Masters. If you don't mind I would like to know your name as well?” Coy asked, cocking his head.
“Temple Vice. Are you going to show me the way to the meeting hall or sit here talking all day?” A vicious tone could be heard in her voice. She didn’t like small talk with strangers.
Coy flinched slightly, his hair falling over his eyes. “Right this way, Temple.” He turned town a narrow street, and Temple followed.
She noticed she wasn’t the only Meladrin dedicated to their king. Coy had on the white and blue colors, just as she did. Out of the street a large white building with gold accents stood out in the light. Coy motioned with his head to go that way. It was strange for Temple to be around so many large buildings and people. Let alone people who spook to her.
They reached the stairs to the building and Coy stopped and looked at her, “Not to be rude or anything, but where did you get that scar from?” He leaned closer, looking at faint white line going from her forehead to her chin.
Temple looked down at her feet, she had hoped he wouldn’t notice. “Just from falling off of my horse when I was younger,” She mumbled. Coy leaned back and grabbed Temple’s wrist lightly.
He opened the door and pulled her inside. Inside there were many people standing there. Waiting to be addressed by a large man in armor. Temple and Coy stood near the back of the crowd, Temple trying to hide her face from the mainly Resveld group. The man spoke about their jobs as Templars, to be ready at a minute's notice to defend Elantris.
After he spoke, everyone went their own ways. Temple was regretting her decision to join the Templars. Inside her own mind she would never be good enough, to defend a city full of people. Coy seemed very confident though, standing with his head high and his shoulder forward. He was all smiles about it.
“What do you think of Elantris so far?” He asked after they exited the meeting hall. “Pretty great right?”
Temple snorted, “I wish I could be back home with Archer, living alone in our shed in the Tilk woods. Being able to visit Crint and seeing Crescent every day.” Temple sighed and looked Coy, noticing he had bright blue eyes. “Do you know where that it? Out in the middle of nowhere, where no one bothers you.”
“Actually, I do know where that is, but whenever I was there you were not there. I would of remember. Although I have seen your horse around there before, the black one.” He smirked. “I lived there actually, and I told Cresent to convince you to come. I never got to meet you. But now I’m here to take you under my wing and guide you in this thing called life.” Coy adjusted his cloak, “I’m glad that I’m not the only one wearing our king’s colors anymore, nice to know I’m not the only one who cares.”
Temple looked at him, the way he acted was not of a person from Tilk. It seemed like the story he told wasn’t completely true, but he seemed trustworthy. She decided that she would trust him for now. Coy had said goodbye quickly, before running off to find one of his friends. A moment later a messenger, panting, ran to her. A note in his hand. He handed it to her, an urgent message from the Templars.