Chapter #3Encountering Lyn, the Noble of Sacae by: Sheograth   http://fireemblem.wikia.com/wiki/Lyn Here is the main page for Lyndis, if you’re unfamiliar with the character.
You slowly wake up, unsure of where you were previously or even what you were trying to do. Everything looks strange and alien, and you really have no idea what just happened. You see a few moderately large green strands that reach up to your chest, but the rest of the area is fairly open and flat, with various shades of greens and browns fading into the distance. Then you look further past you, and you nearly fall over when you see what looks like a nomadic hut, except it was far larger than any building or structure you’ve ever seen.
But then your memory starts to clear up a bit, and you recall your journey to the distant plains of Sacae, as you were ordered to observe and record the various kingdoms and lands of Elibe by the nobles of Ostia, as you were a scholar serving your home kingdom. And you remember that when you neared a Sacaen village, you were stricken with a terrible headache, so you stopped and sat down on a rock. And anything between that and now was a haze, so you figure that you passed out. And now it seems like you have more to worry about than a simple headache, because you somehow shrunk down to a miniscule level. Looking at the blades of grass again, you figure that you were no more than 2 inches tall, which was a frightening prospect.
Before you could decide where you should go next, you saw the flaps of the hut open, and an incredibly massive and beautiful woman walk out of it, shaking the ground around you with her thunderous steps. She seemed to be dressed in Sacaen attire, and from what you remembered from your studies, it seemed that she was a member of the Lorca Tribe. She had long flowing green hair, which was tied in a high pony tail, and matching piercing green eyes. You felt absolutely awestruck, and you couldn’t even will yourself to shout up to her, from being so mesmerized.
Then the mystery Sacaen woman started to speak, saying “Ahh! The winds are flowing softly, and I feel like luck will be with me today. But for now, I should prepare some tea, before I go out to hunt for the day’s meal.” And then she quickly returned to her hut, and you knew immediately that you had to get her attention, because you knew that it would be impossible to fulfill your task, let alone survive, at this strange and dangerous perspective.
You were glad that the Sacaens built their huts in the manner that they did, because you would never be able to get through a normal door because of your size, and yet you were also not small enough to crawl under a door if you would have needed to. After a few minutes, you enter the Sacaen woman’s hut, and you see her sitting down while she waits for her tea to heat up. As you walk closer to the woman, you notice that she wasn’t wearing any shoes, and you were surprised that her feet seemed so smooth and delicate. You would have imagined that a Sacaen, with all their nomadic traditions, would seem much hardier and rougher. You wonder if it was a natural trait of the Sacaen people, and if it was a blessing that was passed down from their crusader ancestor, Hanon.
As you get even closer, you pass her leather boots, and the scent that radiates from them is incredibly strong. You begin coughing, not expecting to experience such an intense aroma from a pair of feet that looked so soft and smooth. But before you could react, the Sacaen woman’s feet started barreling right towards you, and slam into you, causing your head to be jammed between her 2nd and 3rd toes. Your head was held like a vice, and she would periodically scrunch her toes, as your presence was only able to cause an unconscious reaction out of her. They seemed to grip at your head like a mere pebble, and you were treated as ruthlessly as one would expect as a result.
Strangely enough, her toes did not seem to carry the same intense odor as her boots did, even if he did notice a light similarity. He felt like he was being surrounded by nature, and it seemed natural for a woman who completely embraced the simpler life of nature. But he still noticed the overpowering smell that her boots carried, and the two aromas mixed in the strangest of ways, although you didn’t seem to dislike it. It was an odd concept, to be thinking that way about someone’s foot, but you ignore your opinion on the smell, and try and focus on a way to get her attention.
But before you could think of anything, she dragged her feet back under her chair, bringing you with them, and you felt the pressure increase as she put all the weight of her legs onto the balls of her feet. She then began to grind the balls of her feet back and forth, completely smothering you in her toe flesh, as she was completely focused on her heating tea. Your body was harshly pressed into the ball of her foot, and your head and face was crammed between both of her immense toes. For some odd reason, you didn’t feel all that much pain, even though you were sure that you should have been dead by now, and you wonder just how you’re still alive.
Then, the woman shouted, “It seems like the tea is finished. Perfect!” She then shifts towards her table, lifting her legs in the process, which subjects you to strange pressures pulling at you from all directions. (they wouldn’t know what G-force is anyway) When she stops, she crosses her legs, allowing her left leg to dangle over her right, causing you to be held in the air as well. You cannot look down, because her toes gripped your head even tighter than before, but you considered it a blessing, because you had no desire to see for yourself how high you were being kept.
As she poured her tea and prepared her lunch, she happily wriggled her toes, giving your head a vigorous massage. Before she began to eat, she said “Please provide me with your blessing, spirits of the plains, and guide me in my hunt.” She then remained silent for a few moments, and she was completely still as well, including her long and slender toes. You were happy that you got to hear a Sacaen practice their natural customs like this, but you’d much rather be able to have a conversation instead, especially if it provided you some respite from this strange torture. Then she started to drink and eat, while her toes excitedly played with their new toy, while their master was none the wiser to your presence.
All you could hope for would be to escape from this mess, and properly get this woman’s attention. And as you think, you hear her mumble to herself “Sometimes, I get tired of this repeating life on the plains. I wonder if I could ever have an adventure, like my mother and father did when they were young.” You could clearly understand this woman’s desire for adventure, and you are sure that you could provide her with one if you could ever gain your attention.
Traveling alone, from Ostia all the way to the distant plains of Sacae, was fascinating for sure, but it was also incredibly lonely and sometimes even depressing. Luckily, you didn’t ever run into any bandits or brigands, and you even met friendly people at the various towns and villages during your journey. But those days on the road, by yourself, were rough on your morale. Maybe this occurrence was an act of fate, but before you could continue pondering, the Sacaen’s toes squeezed your head one more time.
Then the woman said, “Now that I’m finished, I should head out to find something for tonight!” You hope that your luck changes, and you have a chance to escape from her toes’ clutches, and maybe even get her attention before she heads out to hunt.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author