Hey, this chapter turned out a little longer than I planned - I just couldn't seem to pull the trigger on ending it. Really, it probably could have been two chapters. I wrote and (somewhat) edited it entirely on my phone, do there's bound to be a few mistakes and errors. Please do point them out, as well as give me your feedback, opinions and ideas!
Chapter 2 - Rumblings
Marcus stared out of his sister's bedroom window, watching as the dark heart of the storm got closer, racing through the forest towards Blackwood Manor, on legs of lightning. Upon the window sill, a half-depleted sol crystal sat, casting a pale, orange glow that shimmered off of the rain water as it danced and shifted it's way down the other side of the glass.
"Boy, you've done it this time Marcus. Father will not be pleased." The voice belonged to Ella, Marcus's fifteen year-old little sister.
Marcus turned to give the girl a menacing scowl, but immediately found that to be a bad idea while having a gash in your face sewn up. The girl smirked as her older brother quickly sucked in air through his clenched teeth, in reaction to the pain.
"I told you not to move, I'm almost finished," she said, brushing her golden hair out of her blue eyes, and tucking it neatly behind an ear. She was the spitting image of their mother.
Ella leaned in close to examine her work. The girl had always been a bit of a tomboy, preferring swordplay to needlework, but her talents with a blade did not match her desire to wield one. Put simply, she was clumsy. In her younger years, she managed to keep up with the boys, even showing some potential in comparison. But, as the years progressed, the boys' skills, Marcus's in particular, seemed only to increase, while hers began to deteriorate. Her passion to be a swords-woman, however, went nowhere.
And so she remained close to the training grounds, always watching her brothers, and later, after Nero lost interest for more scholarly pursuits, Marcus and his instructors. Any time one of them would take a wound, Ella would be the first one by their side, showing no aversion to the blood, and doing her best to see to their hurts. Eventually, her talents with a needle emerged, after her mother had begun showing her how to sew.
Ella soon decided that she wished to combine her newfound talent, and her love for combat. One day, after Marcus's leg was cut while out in the forest, Ella begged for him to let her stitch the gash closed. It took some pleading, but Marcus, and their father, soon yielded to the girl's wish and let her try her hand. It was no serious laceration, one that likely would have healed fine without the needle, but her handiwork was well done. Soon, Ella was studying all the medical tomes and journals she could get her hands on, and all the members of the Blackwood household were coming to her with their minor nicks and scrapes.
"That should do it," Ella said happily, as she snipped the thread away the boy's face. She then turned to the cedar chest that sat against the wall behind her, and pulled from it a jar of ointment. "Keep it coated with this for the next four or five days, then, after that you can clean it daily. But, after you do - more ointment."
Marcus took the jar from her hands and studied it, turning it this way and that in the dim light from the sol crystal. "What is it," he asked.
"It's called spider salve. It serves several purposes, including keeping your wound protected, and helping it heal. It also prevents infection, and helps the stitches keep their binding."
"Do the stitches need help keeping their binding?"
"They shouldn't, it's just one of the benefits of spider salve. Sometimes, in the south, because of its sticky properties, they don't even use stitches - just the salve!" Ella said the last part with a little too much excitement, and Marcus gave her a queer look.
