No One's Chosen Read Online Free PDF

more so. As a child, she would have
surely faced a lashing for being so brazen. Those days were past,
she told herself.
    Rianaire looked back to judge how Síocháin liked the
idea. It was a sour look and subtle, but one that Rianaire well.
Síocháin had long since given up trying to convince her to see
reason once her mind was set, so on they walked.
    It was a half hour of window shopping and refusing
gifts before the pair arrived at the inner gates. They were open
and the foot traffic was considerable as a result. The Inner
Crescent was closed three of every four days in a week. This is as
it had always been and the practice had forced grievous battles of
attrition onto any enemy fool enough to try taking the city
directly. This was likely the reason the strict rules regarding the
gates had never been protested.
    "I'm beginning to believe you had this planned."
Síocháin spoke up as they passed through the gates.
    "And I am certain I have no idea what you might
mean."
    "And you know where this amazing potshop is?"
    "More or less," Rianaire sounded anything but
confident, she knew. She shrugged and added, "What does it
matter?"
    "Very little, now. But in an hour's time, I might
become cranky. Ought not the savior of Spéirbaile provide for her
beautiful ward?"
    Rianaire laughed. "Hahaha, spoken like a true
maiden."
    In spite of all her bravado, Rianaire seemed to have
no real idea of where they were headed. She'd wave a hand at any
questioning and call it adventure. The adventure took a turn at the
sound of a girl's cries for help, however.
    Rianaire and Síocháin were approaching a small, muddy
intersection in the poorly kept roads of the Outer Crescent when
they heard her. "Help! Please, someone!" The voice was urgent.
Rianaire made for the intersection with as much speed as she could
manage. Her dress was functional at the least, but still not
entirely friendly for running. She rounded the corner and looked in
the direction of the screams. She saw a waif thin elf with muddy
blonde hair running toward her in work clothes.
    "The shoat!" she pointed as she yelled.
    "Shoat?" Rianaire was confused. She looked down just
in time to see a pink-orange blur make its way between her legs.
Snagging her dress, it pulled her off balance and she fell into the
mud with no hint of grace.
    The girl slowed and put her hands over her mouth. She
scarcely had time to be concerned over the dress as Rianaire was up
and after the shoat in seconds. "Wait!" She called after Rianaire.
"Your dress! Please!" Síocháin shook her head as the farm girl ran
past in a panic.
    Rianaire was dead set on catching the pig. Her shoes
weren't entirely useless, but the grip was insufficient. She kicked
them off and continued her chase. The pig was fast but it wasn't
apt to outsmart her. She hoped not anyway. The bards could be quite
unforgiving with that sort of thing.
    The shoat had a fair lead on her but seemed to be
losing speed. It was no wonder with all the flailing and squealing.
How could it have any manner of endurance with such a spastic means
of escape? The lead wasn't too great but the road was too wide for
Rianaire to manage a sort of capture. She'd have to hope for it to
make for an alleyway, something manageable.
    Almost as if the pig had heard her thoughts, it
bolted for an alley rather than try confront the few elves on the
street ahead. Rianaire wasn't far behind, she rounded the corner
into the alleyway and saw her target some yards away. It was time
to end this.
    It took only half a second. Rianaire formed a subtle
shape with her hand and stomped the ground. A small stone wall shot
up in front of the pig and it clambered to a stop, horrified and
squealing.
    When Síocháin and the farm girl finally caught up
with Rianaire, she was splayed and breathing heavily on top of a
stone cube that seemed to form from the ground itself.
    "I… I got the bastard." She said, lifting her head
for only a second to tell them of her victory.
    The farm girl