I do have most of this book written already and I’m glad to hear good things about it so far! (It has roughly 250 paper back pages to it so far- 95000 words, so there will be more here =)
Sci Fi & Fantasy / Lord of Dragons
Prologue
Havendome Castle, Mordiva
The scent of roses and jasmine was thick on the breeze as it blew carelessly through the open arboretum, playing gently with the vibrant petals and the verdant leaves, carrying along with it the hush of soft satin and a sweet lullaby. The sun was brilliant above, creating a soft halo of light around the mother’s mahogany hair as she smiled lovingly at the baby in her arms. Her dress was a light blue satin, a perfect match to her eyes, and it reflected up a soft color to the silver of her coronet. The baby slept quietly, tucked in the crook of her caring arms, his small head leaned against her shoulder. He shared many of his mother’s features and the baby blonde wisps of hair on his young head were already beginning to take on her darker tint.
The heavy sound of armor echoed though the bushes, as the guard waiting by the door grew impatient. He shifted on one leg and tapped his side with the tips of his armored fingers. The mother looked up at him in expectancy and shifted the sleeping boy to her other arm. The baby awoke and lifted his sleepy eyes to the guard. His eyes were ice blue, unlike his mothers, and had the glitter of crystal polished to perfection. The guard gave the baby boy a small but warm smile and bowed as he opened the door and ushered the queen and her child out of the light of the garden.
The joy of the gardens was lost on the rest of the castle. Guardsmen and servant alike went about with dour faces. Mordiva, their homeland, was at war with its neighbor, Aithora, and their king had joined the war. The two neighboring kingdoms had in the past a civil if not fragile co-existence for decades. It was a stupid war, thought Mariah. They had traced the start of the war to a small dispute over a horse between an Aithorian merchant and a Mordivani farmer. It had escalated into a town dispute that was then was blown up into pure national hatred, with each side blaming the other, capped by the murder of an Aithorian envoy. All this death was over one unmarked horse and the careless rumors and name-calling of the nobles. Mariah held her child closely, as if trying to shield him from the despondency in the air. She smiled at him, being strong not just as a queen, but as a mother.
The greeting hall was empty of the usual members of court when the queen and her young prince entered. Instead, a woman who she had known almost all her life stood in the middle of the room with a small entourage.
“Zalandra! How nice to see you, sister-in-law,” Mariah smiled as she handed the child to her handmaid and took the other woman’s hands in her own. The woman before her was a blonde beauty, with eyes the color of ash. She wore a black velvet habit over her red silk dress in stark contrast to her alabaster skin. Zalandra smiled lovingly at her as she gently squeezed her hands and kissed her on the cheek.
“My brother should be ashamed, away from such a lovely wife and boy child for so long.” She looked at the boy in the maid’s arms. “Already a year old, and my dear nephew, Andros, is still without his father.”
Mariah looked at her son and smoothed the hair on his head. “If this war could end simply for my son, then a better thing this war would be. Unfortunately the Aithorians have no sympathy for the prince of Mordiva, and so Zachariah has to go stop it, not only for our son, but also for all Mordivani.” She gave a small frown and a slight look of worry laced in her features for a shadow of a moment. The two kingdoms were so lost in their enmity and spite that it was beginning to feel as if this war would never end. “He’ll come home soon, though, I hope. In any case, enough talk of that.” She turned to the man standing slightly behind Zalandra and greeted him. “Sir Gawain, it is a pleasure to see you again.”
He bowed. “My Queen, the honor is mine.”
Queen Mariah smiled. “Clasgallow is treating you well? It has been many years since you were last in the service of Castle Havendome.”
He looked to Zalandra, who blushed ever so slightly, before replying. “My lady Zalandra has become quite prone to traveling these past few years. But being in her service is always a pleasure.”
“We last took in the sights of some ruins to the south,” Zalandra added. “It was a very gratifying experience. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of bringing back some of the artifacts to study here.” Her features took on a strange look as she continued with an almost zealous note. “Magic books, staves of power, scrolls… there may be something in there that can stop all of this war and hatred. I think I’ve even found the staff of the Wizard Bethesda Semit.”
Mariah looked at the knight behind her husband’s sister and saw that he looked just as uneasy as Zalandra’s sudden zealousness had made her feel. She looked back to the woman she called friend and asked, “Whatever happened to the Scarlet Healers? I thought you were studying to join their ranks, last I heard.”
Zalandra waved her hand dismissively. “The Scarlet Healers taught me enough, but I’ve found a higher calling. I think my pursuit of knowledge will further the magical advances of this country, far beyond just learning the healing arts from the red robes.”
“As you say,” Mariah replied pleasantly, taking Andros back from the maid. The uneasiness in her stomach faded. “You must be tired from your long trip. Clasgallow isn’t a stone’s throw from Havendome, now is it? Come, we’ll retire to the day room while your things are brought to your rooms.”
Her sister-in-law agreed with a nod. “Yes, that sounds wonderful.” She turned to say something to the knight Gawain, but lost her footing. He caught her from falling completely as the Queen stepped forward in concern.
“Zalandra, dear, are you alright?”
The blonde beauty straightened herself up, with Gawain for balance as she assured her brother’s wife. “I am perfectly fine, my lady. I only… felt a bit off sorts for a moment.”
Mariah gave her an appraising look while baby Andros cooed in her arms. “Well, then, to the day room,” she ordered, throwing one last skeptical look to her sister-in-law.
-Two years later-
Avaresta, Aithora
It was cold and dark. She huddled next to her mother for comfort, the sigil freshly branded into the flesh of her arm still burning despite the cold damp stone she pressed it against. Tears were still damp on her face. Her mother had long since stopped crying and now just sat in the corner staring at the bars of their prison. They had already taken away her father and her older brother. They had also taken her six-year-old brother away despite her mother’s tears and frantic pleas. In her heart, she knew that they were dead. She also knew that they were to die.
When she was nine, she had once come down to these dungeons to hide from her tutors. It was cold and damp then as well, but it was empty. She had accidentally shut herself into one of the cold chambers. She had shivered then, watching a rat crawl across the stone floor. It was two days before one of the castle guards had found her asleep in the corner. That evening, she had awakened in her own warm bed. Perhaps, she thought, that will happen again.
She didn’t sleep well. In her mind, all she saw was her family being taken away by the guards, betrayed by their own people. She relived the curse being put on her and the painful burn of the iron as it hit her skin. The woman who cursed her was there, chanting her strange words and moving her pale hands. Her cold eyes were also there, and they pierced her soul. And in the background her mother screamed.
The key rattled in the door of their cell, bringing both the young girl and her mother back to their current situation. She stood and stared at the door as her mother pulled her close to her side. They both dared not breathe, and both seemed locked together. The iron door opened slowly and an old gentleman looked in. The girl felt her mother exhale.
“We are saved,” she said in a whisper.
“Yes, my queen. The Wizard Caseil, at your service. Now come, we must hurry.”
Mariah stepped out of the wagon, wrapped her dirty brown travel cloak tighter around her and lifted down her son. “Safe journey to you, ma’am,” the driver of the wagon called down. “And be on your guard in these parts. I hear there is a royal beheading today. Old royal family was called for crimes against the people, methinks.”
She shivered and smiled weakly at the farmer. “Thank you very much for the ride.” She looked in her thinning purse and pulled out a few of her remaining coppers. “I know it isn’t much, but”
“Ma’am, I can’t take that.” He waved her off with a friendly smile. “’Sides, that little one of yours needs it more than myself.”
She replaced her coppers and smiled at him, tears in her eyes. “Safe journey, my friend.” He nodded and drove on through the streets.
“Bye, bye,” the small boy waved with his free hand, gripping tightly to his mothers with the other. He continued waving as his mother led him through the crowd.
The central square was right ahead of them, and the throng of people was getting tighter and louder as they made their way to the other side. Mariah looked up at the platform and stopped. Standing there waiting, was a man, holding the decapitated heads of Aithora’s former king and queen, while the people cheered raucously. Her stomach could hold its contents, if any, no longer and neither did she have the strength to hold back her tears. The acidic taste of bile rose to the back of her parched throat, her empty stomach having no choice but to settle back down. Her salty tears streamed down her face as she looked away and picked up her son, shielding his eyes and crossing to the other side of the clearing.
She waited. She had been strong long enough, and now it was her time to escape and to save herself and her son from a world gone mad. She had sent word to her husband of her plans and the reasons behind them, but had not heard word from him in over a year. She feared that he had fallen, or that the messengers sent had never reached him. After months of preparation and waiting, she finally took her son and slipped away into the night. She escaped to Aithora, the home of her country’s enemies, ironically, for safety that she would not have had in her own country.
“The Kerinian Forest is nice this time of year.”
Mariah stopped when she heard the voice. Turning, she saw her addresser, a thin man, about her height. His long hair covered his ears, and she could tell he was uncomfortable in the crowd, even one less congested as the one she had just left. “Yes, but Liliana’s falls are even lovelier.”
The Elven man smiled. “True, they are,” he replied as he motioned her to a brown mare. “This way, milady, it is a long ride to Liliana Falls.”
She nodded and handed over her son so that she could mount the horse. As she settled into the saddle, a movement caught her eye. An old man, a woman, and a young girl had stopped to let traffic pass on the way out of town. The woman looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t place the face.
“My Lady?” the Elven man questioned as he looked at her blank stare, bringing her back from her thoughts.
“Oh, my apologies. I just thought I saw someone I knew, that’s all.” He handed up her son, and led the horse out of town.
-Chapter One-
Modern North America
A cool wind rustled the autumn leaves, playing with them as they fell to the ground. A bitter chill hung in the air, the promise of winter in the whisper of the wind. The sun was brilliant above him, uncovered by clouds and easily seen through the thinning canopies of the trees. It was quiet out here, away from people and traffic, and perfect for his type of work.
There were not many animals left in these woods, but the few that remained were hard at work as well, aside from the birds just passing by in their steady trip southward. He watched one squirrel in particular as it busied itself with its acorn gathering, finding and hiding them away for the cold winter soon to come. The squirrel wasn’t the only one securing its next meal; a bird of prey watched closely from above, waiting for the perfect opportunity. The silent watcher sat back with his notepad and pressed the pencil to paper, making notes to him self. It wasn’t necessary for him to do this. His memory had always been amazingly good, but sometimes it helped to put something to paper to see the whole picture. And so, he quietly watched the falcon with the healing wing, and wondered what more he could possibly do to help it.
Card exercised the hand he wore the stiff leather glove on. It made his hand stiff just wearing it, but after the first taste of the falcon’s claws, he was happier for it. He first found the falcon about a month ago, just off of a nature trail, and with a broken wing. It was hoping on the ground in circles until it saw him. It was strange to see that type of bird in that part of the country, but oddly enough, it had come straight to him. At first, he thought that it was a trained bird that had been abandoned. He had knelt down and held out his arm for the bird. It came, but its sharp claws painfully pierced his wrist. Then he knew that it might not have been a tamed bird, and also knew that he needed to buy a falconer’s glove.
Once again, the diligent bird made another attempt to catch its prey. The squirrel, intent on its own survival, narrowly escaped certain death by running into a hole too small for the hapless falcon. Grudgingly admitting defeat, the crestfallen bird flew to a fallen limb and rested its healing wing. Card noted this, and decided that it still needed a little more time and exercise to be completely up to par. The apparent soreness also explained his failure in hunting. “Oh, well. Looks like lab rats for dinner again tonight, my friend,” Card said to the bird, under his breath, holding out a well-protected forearm. The luckless falcon gave the bothersome forestry teacher a reproachful glare from one of his golden eyes, or at least that is how Card saw it. Animals, Card knew, had the ability to act more human than most humans did at times.
He took back the proffered arm and rubbed the back of his short-cropped head. It still felt strange to him not to have the long hair that he had let grow untamed for the past year. He hadn’t even planned on cutting it until a fellow teacher commented on how wild his dark brown hair was starting to look. Perhaps he was going wild, so what? It wasn’t like he had a reason to dress up anymore. Animals don’t care if you try to impress them. Card smiled at the falcon as he preened his mottled feathers. “And who do you have to impress?” It looked up from its preoccupation and gave Card a surveying look. “Yes, I mean you, you narcissistic little thing.”
Card stood and turned at the soft sound of feet approaching up the well-worn path. Leaves crunched under the feet of the visitor, despite her best efforts not to make a sound. “Class over already, Brianna?” Card called out, and then whistled at his recovering patient, who finally flew grudgingly to the presented glove. A short woman, with curly blond hair pushed her way through the thin trees and bushes that separated the trail from the clearing.
“Ah, there you are! I’ve been looking for you,” she jovially replied, watching Card as he opened the door to the wire transport case. “And how is our fine feathered friend doing today, Dr. Doolittle? And don’t think I didn’t hear you talking to that bird of yours.”
Card chuckled, bending down and putting the bird in question into its temporary prison. “He’s doing fine. Still being careful with himself, but fine. He’ll be getting a fine cuisine of bird food tonight, though.” He clasped the catch shut then stood up.
“Too bad. In any case, he is a beautiful creature. What’s his name?”
It was like her to ask those type questions. Card supposed it was in the job description for a history professor to ask the name of every thing he came in contact with. Brianna was of a very inquisitive nature and, therefore, perfect for the field of history. She was the closest thing to a sister that he had ever had, both growing up as orphans. They had shared the same foster home once. Victoria had always laughed, saying that they were day and night: Card, tall with dark hair and an austere outlook; Brianna, short and fair colored and the most outgoing person anyone could meet. The memory of Victoria gave him a sad mental smile and a small pain in his heart. Card picked up the case and began walking back to his truck, changing his course of thought and answering his friend’s question as he did. “I don’t usually name the animals I take care of. Sometimes the student’s do, but he hasn’t been named yet. I don’t think they’ve seen him yet.”
“Oh. Hey, you’ve had him for over a month already, haven’t you? Why don’t you just go ahead and name him. Save the kids time, and give me a name to put with the face,” returned Brianna, as he tried to keep up with Card’s easy strides with a little bit of difficulty. “And slow down a little, while you’re at it.”
“Ha, ha! If you are going to be that insistent, I will. Let’s see” he consented, looking down thoughtfully at the falcon in his cage. He was a nice looking bird. Gold and Silver hues dotted the browned motley of the rest of his feathers. He was a cleaner bird than he was a month ago. As they walked, Card thoughts wondered to its quiet intelligence and well-mannered behaviorism.
“I am so relieved to finally have all of those finals graded,” Brianna intervened, never being one to let a space of more than two minutes go unused. “How are yours going?”
“Zepher.”
“What?”
“His name is Zepher.”
Brianna puzzled over this for a second. “Oh, the name. Odd name for a bird though isn’t it? Why ‘Zepher’?”
Card smiled. “It was better than ‘Tweety’.” They reached the end of the path and walked on to the parking lot. “I don’t know, it just seemed to fit him.”
Brianna laughed and put a mock look-of-concern on her face. “Professor Card, you’ve spent too much time reading the mythologies. Why not name him Merlin?”
Card stopped next to his truck and opened the door. “I see nothing wrong with the name and it just doesn’t seem right to name a bird after a fish.” Zepher trilled in his case and he laughed, “See, he likes the name I gave him better.”
“That’s only because he’s a silly bird. And Merlin was a wizard, by the way,” the disgruntled history teacher replied as she held the truck door for Card to load Zepher into the passenger seat.
“Tell you what,” Card announced, making his way around to the driver’s seat, “you can come with me for a beer and some pool, and I’ll let you complain all you like. But for now let me take the falcon”
“Zepher”
“Zepher, back to his pen at the university. That way I can at least give my ears a few moments rest.”
It was five in the morning and Card’s head pounded. He quietly shut the door and hung his keys on the pegboard beside him. It was more habit than precaution. There had not been anyone else in his house to disturb in a year. He walked into the kitchen, past the stack of dirty dishes usually left until it was too high to be safe, and opened the fridge. Bottles clanked as he moved them around to see into the nether reaches of the cold darkness. The bulb had blown about a week ago. Finally, after rummaging through all the old leftovers, spoiled milk and alcohol, he found the object of his desire. Getting a glass from the cabinet, he poured himself some orange juice. This is the last time I go drinking with Brianna, he thought miserably to himself as he got out the aspirin. The woman could drink any man under the table. He took the pills and walked back to his desk, the orange juice sitting forgotten on the table.
The clock flashed twelve o’clock, another reminder of all the things he had neglected to do. He just didn’t have the will power. He laid his head on the hard wood and sighed. He slept here a lot of the time. The bed just seemed too empty these days. Even if he had managed to fall asleep there, he always ended up back here.
Who are you trying to kid, Card? The voice of reason in his head always berated. She isn’t going to come back, no matter how many nights you stay up.
Everyone else seemed to tell him that also. Brianna, who had been his wife’s maid of honor at their wedding, was still trying to get him to move in with her, as a simply platonic gesture, of course. She always told him that he needed to get over what had happened.
What’s it been Card, a year? Vicky would have wanted you to move on. Why don’t you come stay with me? Get away for a while. It seemed reasonable, but he could just imagine her trying to fix him up with some friend or the other, and it wasn’t something he was ready for.
Card picked up the framed picture of his wedding day. Victoria smiled up at him, as happy and exuberant as she had always been. Brianna stood beside her, smiling like there was no tomorrow. And he himself smiled like a man drunk on ambrosia, his arm around her waist, and her ring hand in his. He hadn’t worn his ring; he said he’d be too afraid he’d loose it in the woods. She had worn his ring on a necklace and laughed. “Whenever you come looking for it, you’ll always find me,” she had said. He replaced the picture beside the clock and went to the couch to sleep.
The phone rang, waking Card from yet another bad dream. He picked up the receiver and groggily mouthed a greeting.
“Andrew! Where you asleep? It’s three in the afternoon!”
“Oh, hello, Sister Margaret,” he answered, sitting up on the couch and stretching out his stiff muscles. “How are you doing?”
“Fine, dear, fine. Enough chitchat though,” the Sister answered with the sound of anticipation in her voice. “Andrew, someone has just come to our doorstep that I think you may want to meet. You might want to come down to St. Catherine’s as soon as possible.”
He yawned away from the phone. “Who is it?”
“Well, he showed up here around lunch time, looking for a young man who may have been here fifteen or twenty years ago.” She paused for a second. “His description fit you to a tee. We went through all the files for those years, and you were the only one who matched perfectly.”
Card remained silent. He didn’t know what to say. There were very few possibilities as to what this could pertain to, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to deal with it at the moment.
“Oh, and dear, he says he was sent by your father.”
Card walked quietly down the hall, watching the pools of colored light cast from the stained glass windows above to his feet. It had been years since he had last walked this path along the halls of St. Catherine’s Home for Boys. A group of teenage boys walk past him, talking boisterously on the way back to their rooms. It reminded him of his time here, before college and before Victoria. He was one of the few who, like those boys, had never been adopted. He had been sent to several foster homes, including the one that he had shared with Brianna, but they had never worked out. This was his home. He had lived inside this building of white plaster and brick since his mother died, leaving him alone in the care of the Sisters.
He rounded the corner, stepping aside to allow two Sisters to pass. “Hello, Sister Darlene, Sister Tobie,” he quickly said as they neared him.
“Andrew! How nice of you to come by to see us,” the slender woman named Sister Darlene admonished brightly. She stopped completely and pulled the robe of the heavier set sister beside her. “Look, Tobie, its little Andrew. Hasn’t he grown so handsome?”
The two older Sisters, fussed over him for a few moments, recalling his rambunctious childhood to themselves as they gleefully reminded him of every frog, bug, and prank committed.
“Sisters, if you will please excuse me”
“Oh, yes! The Mother Superior wanted you to see her today, didn’t she!” exclaimed the jubilant Sister Tobie. “How terrible of us to keep you. Well, be on your way, shoo!” She gave him a little nudge and they turned to walk their own way. “And don’t be a stranger!” the sisters called in unison to his retreating back.
He made his way through the polished hallway until he reached the Mother Superior’s office. The door was open just a crack. He was about to knock when the sound of an unfamiliar voice came from the room. He realized that he had not been seen, and listened.
Sister Margaret Claire, head mistress and Mother Superior of St. Catherine’s, sat in her office fiddling with an ink pen. Across from her sat Xaras Laestrom. Both were advanced in years with graying hair and kind, though wrinkled, features. Xaras sipped his coffee and calmly chatted to pass the time, telling about himself and how he came to look for Andrew Card. Sister Margaret listened intently, and added her own thought and memories into the conversation every now and then.
“He was brought to us after his mother had died. He was about four at the time. I doubt he even remembers it,” she put down the pen. “We raised him here until he went off to college and found a wife.”
Xaras put down his cup. “He’s married?”
“Not anymore. The poor girl died about a year ago. She was only twenty-four. Andrew has been taking her loss very harshly.”
“What a pity for one so young.” He looked at his cup, stirring the coffee with the thin straw. “What caused it?”
“Leukemia,” Card answered from the doorway, making his presence clear. “They caught it too late for effective treatment.”
“Oh, Andrew, how long have you been standing there? Come, have a seat,” inquired Sister Margaret.
“Long enough to feel my ears burning.” He walked in and sat in one of the hard wood chairs in front of the desk. “So, what’s all this about.”
“Dear, this is Xaras Laestrom. He was a friend of your father’s.” Xaras held out his hand, which Andrew reflexively shook in greeting.
“My, you look so much like your father,” he admonished.
“Is that so,” replied Card, in a more caustic tone.
Sister Margaret cleared her throat. “I’ll just leave you two to talk in private,” she declared as she rose from her seat.
“Thank you,” he replied kindly as she left. He looked at the wizened man in front of him, a well of mixed feeling boiling inside of him. He was at a loss for words, and so was very grateful when Xaras started the conversation.
“I fear that I probably know more about you than you do about me.” He picked up his cup and took a sip of the chilling coffee. He crinkled his face and lowered the cup, running a finger over the edge. “Let me introduce myself. I am Xaras Laestrom, and I was a very good friend of your father’s.” He took another sip, somewhat more content and replaced the warm mug. “Well, I’m sure that there are many questions that you would like to ask me. I think I’ll answer any of those that I can, before we begin if you like.”
Card looked at the slightly steaming mug, his thoughts and questions racing in his head. Why after all these years, did someone come now, after he had grown? He looked Xaras blue to gray eye, “Before we begin what?”
A look of remorse crossed over the old man’s face. “Your father has passed away, and I am here to tell you about your inheritance,” he paused, “and yourself.”
Figures. “I don’t remember much of my mother, but at least I can remember her face. So all I want to know right now, is who is this father that I keep hearing about, and why has everyone waited so late to see me.”
“Your mother’s name was Mariah, correct?” Card nodded once. “I didn’t know her at all, but I had heard that she was a wonderful woman. Her absence makes this telling even harder. Your father told me much about her. His name was Zachariah Craden. They were both from a distant country called Mordiva. I don’t think you’ve ever heard of it. Not many have, since it isn’t on the maps. In any case, I met your father a few years back, during a war. He didn’t make it back.” He stopped and emptied his cup. “Anything else that you would like to know?”
“Why are you here, really? I don’t think you traveled the distance you say you did just to tell me that the dad I never knew left me a gold watch and the dining room furniture.”
Xaras looked disdainfully into his empty cup. “Please, have a little understanding. He had planned to come looking for you, he even sent others to get you. No one knew why or where Mariah had run away. The fact is, he was the lord of Mordiva, and could not leave his people. That war had been going on for so long, and then he died. Everything is at a stand still, no victory, and no defeat. He saved my life in that war, so I vowed to find you myself. That was several years ago.
“Now can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead,” Card replied quietly, still taking in all he had heard.
“You prefer the name ‘Card’, correct?”
He nodded. “That’s the name the sisters say I told them when I was little. I guess it does sound like ‘Craden’ when I think about it.”
“Card, your given name is ‘Andros Craden’, and you are the prince of Mordiva. That is your inheritance. Your aunt, Zalandra, has been ruling in your stead for several years. It is time we had a king again. Will you come?”
He could hardly believe what he had been told. His mind raced, now knowing what to think. “In all due respect, this is impossible for me to believe.”
Xaras removed a piece of parchment from his pocket. It was folded neatly in four parts. “Take this.”
“What is it?” Card asked as he took it and gently unfolded the worn paper.
“It is a border pass. The crest is that of Mordiva.”
The parchment looked old and very careworn. In the center, a dragon was depicted coming through the center of a crown. In the bottom right corner were a strange group of designs, most likely words of some sort that he could not make heads or tails of. The other corner showed a falcon.
“Are falcon’s common in Mordiva?”
A look of question rose on Xaras’ weathered face. “Why do you ask?”
“I am taking care of a falcon that looks much like this one. They are not a common bird here,” he mused as he examined the picture.
“You have a falcon like this one?” he asked in return. “What have you named him?”
“Zepher, why?”
He sighed. “Nice name. Now listen, you have a very difficult decision to make. What I offer is probably bigger than it seems. First, you have to decide weather or not to believe an old man like me, and then you have to choose what you want to do. I can’t change your blood, but you can choose to deny it, if you like. Go home and think it out. Take as long as you need to then tell me your decision.” He picked up his cup again, giving it a hard look. He took a healthy swig and replaced the half full cup. “Ah, still good,” he said, as he left the room.
Card looked at the forgotten cup. I could have sworn it was empty. He picked up the cup and found it still warm. And cold. He put the cup back down and left out the room. Xaras Laestrom was no where in sight.
Xaras sat down in his small guest room and took out a journal and a feather pen. He dipped the pen in an inkwell.
I’ve found him. My journey has ended or just begun depending on his decision.
For the sake of both lands, I can only hope that he accepts. I am certain that he is
the one. The Guardian has already found him.
Fate be kind,
Wizard Xaras Laestrom
-Chapter Two-
“Well, it is authentic enough,” Brianna commented as she examined every detail of the crest once more. A piece of the parchment on which the pass had been printed was missing from a corner, and had been sent to the science lab. Brianna figured that a little bit of forensics practice wouldn’t hurt the lab teachers. For now, she focused on the rest of the pass in front of her. “The designs are unlike any I’ve seen in my entire career as a historian, but this dragon and crown in the center seem to symbolize a strong monarchy. I’m lost over the falcon, but I think these strange figures may be runes of some sort, maybe an earlier version of Celt.” He looked up from the paper and removed the appraisal glasses. “Does that sound about right to you?”
“Celt,” Card mirrored. “I don’t even know where this place is supposed to be, much less what the language base is.”
“Well,” Brianna replied as he got up and fetched a diet soda from the fridge, “You can always ask your old friend Xaras. Or you can wait for forensics to tell you the scoop on your little ‘border pass’ here. Or both.” She popped open the can and took a quick sip. “Hey, you want one?”
“No thanks.”
He groaned softly as he sank deeper into the arm chair. They had been sitting in Brianna’s living room for two hours, discussing the crest and Xaras’ offer. It was close to six o’clock, but the sun was already setting. “Brie, what on earth am I going to do?” he ran his hand carelessly through his dark hair. “According to Mr. Laestrom, if I accept this inheritance, I’d own some castle called Havendome and rule Mordiva, a country I’ve never even heard of before.”
Brianna laughed as he sat back down on the couch. “It’s not everyday you get an offer like this. If this thing turns out to be the real deal, shoot! I want to go with you!” She put the soda down and leaned back slowly, taking on a more serious look. “Card, you need to consider this earnestly. I mean, why do you want to stay here? You don’t keep many close ties, you stay out all night instead of going home, and when you do go home, you sleep on your own darn couch. I don’t think Vicky would have wanted things to continue like that. Besides, what have you got to loose, if this thing is the real deal?”
Card sat in silence, his tanned arms crossed over his chest. Brianna’s words made sense to him, and the more he thought about it, the more he knew it was true. He didn’t have anything left to keep him here, except the hole in his life where Vicky had once been and an arsenal of memories to keep him company. She would have wanted him to go on. He had to start living again.
“You’re right. Maybe I just need to get away from here. And while I’m at it, I can learn who I am besides the person I grew up to be. It’ll be an experience.”
“Does that mean you’ll accept?” Brianna asked as she eyed her friend skeptically.
“Yeah, I guess it does.”
For the first time in a month, he was home before midnight. He walked through the kitchen, which was still dirty, and made his way to his desk. His thoughts weighed heavy on him as he sat down and put his head in his hands. Vicky, what have I been doing? He looked up at their picture once again, his hand going to pick it up. He touched the frame gingerly, and then the timeless clock caught his eye. He picked it up instead. I’ve been a disappointment to you, I know. “Well, from now on, Vicky, I promise not to waist any more time before doing the things I need to do.” He set the clock down, its face showing the correct time for the first time in several months.
He stepped into his forgotten bedroom, leaving behind him a clean house. The sheets still lay crumpled on the floor from the last time he had tried to sleep in here. He had tossed and turned until he had fallen off the bed, where he had eventually gone to sleep. Not this time, he vowed as he picked them up and took them to the laundry room, then got out his fresh sheets and made the bed.
Brianna stepped into Card’s kitchen and gaped. “Oh my god, Card! Someone broke into your house and cleaned!”
Card was seated at the table, dressed in his best jeans and tee-shirt. He looked up from his coffee. “Shut up, Brie. Have a seat and stop scrutinizing my kitchen.”
“So, why did you want me over here?” she asked as she turned a chair backwards and sat down, her arms crossed over the top of the back rest.
Card looked unwaveringly up at his friend, and replied with an even tone, “I wanted to let you know that I’m leaving. Just thought you might want to know.”
Brianna’s jaw dropped in surprise, “Well, that is news. I’m speechless.”
“Hmm,” he snickered. “There’s a first.”
The irritated blonde gave her friend a rankled look. “Oh, it is to laugh,” she replied, sarcasm thick in her voice. “Anyway, I thought you were going to wait for the lab results to get back, and for Xaras Laestrom to answer some questions.”
“I’m meeting him later this afternoon. As for the results, well, I feel I can trust Xaras, and if not, it’s a chance I am willing to take. If I’m going to be starting again, I need to start somewhere.” He stood up and put his mug in the sink. “I wanted to ask you if you would like to move here while I’m gone. You can get out of that apartment like you’ve been dying to do and I’ll have someone I trust looking over the house.”
“Ah, sure, Card. I mean, why not, but, ah” she gave him a concerned look. “Are you okay? You seem more, I don’t know, alive or something. First time in a year.”
He smiled. “That’s because I am.”
Xaras watched Card as he took Zepher out of his traveling case. It was around three o’clock in the evening, and it was a beautiful day. Card had picked him up from the home and they had come here, so that Zepher could exercise and they could talk. It was also convenient for the fact that Card felt more comfortable in the outdoors. Xaras was not surprised by Card’s care of the falcon. An understanding and compassion for nature seemed to run in the family.
Zepher was relieved to be released from the case. He stretched his wings as soon as he perched on the falconer’s glove. With a little encouragement form Card, he flew off into the trees. “Are you releasing him?” Xaras asked quizzically as he watched the bird.
“Not yet,” He answered, shielding his eyes from the sun as he looked up. “He isn’t strong enough in his wing. When that heals, he can fend for himself, but until then, he wouldn’t last for long.” He sat down on a fallen tree. “I’m actually wondering if it ever will leave me, even if I did free him. I think he may have become too tame.” He took a deep breath and looked at the older man. “I’ve decided to accept.”
Xaras sat next to him. “That is great news!”
“Why don’t you tell me a little about this place. I’d like to be not so much in the dark before we finalize everything,” he suggested, looking around for Zepher. Xaras picked up a stick and drew in the dirt as he spoke.
“What all do you want to know?” he asked politely, drawing a large circle in the sand.
Card shrugged. “Everything.”
“That’s all?” he laughed. “All right, then. I’ll tell you what I can. Some things are told best when you get there. I guess I’ll tell you about the country first. Mordiva is not very big. It won’t show up on any map of the world you may find here. The government is, of course, a monarchy. Your aunt is ruling in your stead until your return, by the way. Don’t worry about the ruling part. You will have advisors and administrators to help you. It isn’t hard once you get the drift of things. Just keep the people’s best interests in mind, and you’ll be fine.” He finished the last of a series of pictures, all drawn within the circle. “The history will probably bore you, so I won’t go into that at the moment.”
Card nodded, “That’s fine.” He looked back up at the sky and spotted Zepher above, a small creature of some sort in his talons. He smiled slightly. “You know, it still sounds kind of strange for me to hear you say my ‘aunt’. What side of the family is she?”
“Your father’s.”
“Do I have any other family?” Xaras remained silent. “Xaras?”
“No, my lad, you don’t.” Every word was laced with sadness. He drew one last line and sighed. Xaras’ sad gaze on the picture drew Card’s eyes to it as well. He recognized the symbols as being the same as those on the crest.
“What do these mean?” he asked pointing at the drawing. He knew that Xaras had more bad news, and he didn’t feel like hearing it at the moment.
“Ah. These, my dear boy, are from an ancient time, a language that has fallen into antiquity.” He looked up from the picture and saw the brief hint of interest on Card’s face. “Sometimes it’s better not to ask the meaning of all things. Ah! And here returns your falcon.”
Card held out his gloved forearm for Zepher to land on. “Enjoy the meal?” he said to the bird. He looked back to Xaras. “So, when are we supposed to leave?”
“Whenever you like. I’ve already got the tickets. One-way, of course.” He looked at his younger companion with an appraising look. “You’ve already taken care of your business, I take it?”
“Yes.”
“Ah. Well, then let us be on our way.” He stood aside to let Card pass. Your journey is just beginning, Andros Craden. Card walked past him to get to the traveling case, stepping into the circle on the way. Just remember that I warned you that this was bigger than it seemed. He watched with a small, sad smile as a stream of light surrounded the surprised Card, then followed closely behind him. “Home at last.” The words echoed behind them as the light and the drawings faded into the sand.
-Chapter Three-
She walked slowly down the small stone road, her simple skirts rustling in the small breeze. Her long auburn hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, her soft green eyes swept the bushes for berries. Her name was simply Robyn, and she was a thief of some renown in Aithora. She liked her job.
However, she was tired of the same old routine. She had been working all the high roads from the newly formed free states of Merimyth to Aithora since she was a child. Cast out of a fallen home and left alone in the end, the only thing she could do was fend for herself. The road to Merimyth was shadowed on both sides by various sorts of trees, most of which had already started to lose their color to the chill of autumn. Usually she would wait in the trees until an overconfident noble passed, flashing the riches stolen through taxes. However, she had more chivalrous plans today. Someone had stolen from a close friend of hers, and no one steals from her friends.
She wasn’t alone today. Elspeth sat a short distance away, invisible from human eyes. She was a wood nymph, who, against her nature, had overcome the chronic shyness of her kind. “Robyn, there are three men around the corner. They look very nasty. May be them,” Elspeth said near a whisper. Robyn nodded and checked herself to be sure she looked feminine enough. I hate dresses, she thought with acridity. It had to be done, though. No one would expect trouble from a sweet young lady. She also made sure that the knife concealed in the long sleeves of her dress was completely concealed.
She picked up her basket and began to slowly stroll down the road, stopping here and there in the charade of picking berries. Finally, she saw the men in the corner of her eye. The leader signaled the other two to stay quiet as he sneaked up to her. She pretended not to see him.
“Hello, miss,” he said to intentionally startle her. She jumped and turned to feign surprise. “You know it’s dangerous for a pretty such as yourself to be wandering alone,” he said as kindly as he could. On his back, he carried a travel bag that probably held the object she was out to get. She smiled and readied her reply.
“Thank you for your concern, but you gave me such a start!” she reprimanded, placing her hand on her heart for effect. The other two men came closer, smiling at each other. This isn’t going to be easy, she thought as they took to either side of her. She backed up a step. “I was just picking berries for my mother’s pies.” She looked down at her half empty basket. “Um, I think I have enough now, if you’ll just excuse me”
The two men grabbed her arms before she could get the knife out of her sleeve. The leader took her basket and bowed dramatically. “I’d be honored to take you home to your ‘mother’, Robyn.” He grinned smugly.
This is definitely not good, Elspeth thought as she looked for a way to help her friend.
Card landed roughly on the ground. He felt like he had just fallen off of a cliff. His head swam a bit as he tried to stand up. “Perhaps I should have told you to watch that first step.” Xaras chuckled as he helped Card to his feet.
“What happened?” Card asked as he looked around, “And where are we?”
“I just gave you a one way ticket to Mordiva but somehow we ended up in Aithora,” Xaras frowned. “Travel between the realms is so unpredictable. We might not even be in the right time. As it is, we’re a good four weeks ride from Havendome Castle, by my guess.”
Card look at him as he regained his balance. “What are you?” he asked skeptically.
Xaras now wore a brown hooded robe, making him look wiser and more powerful than he ever had in slacks and a dress shirt. In his hand, he held a decorative oak staff, with a ball of some polished black gem inlayed into the top. “I am a wizard, your majesty. Glad to be of service,” he bowed slightly.
“I must have hit my head as well,” Card said to himself, feeling for a bump on his head. This is just great, he thought sarcastically. Either I’m going crazy or I’ve taken on the lead role in The Wizard of Oz. He looked at the world around him. They now stood on the side of a dirt road that showed many wagon trails and hoof prints. The surrounding trees stood tall and strong, although they were thinning in the fall season. A stream could be heard from farther in the woods and birds sand cheerfully to each other. “At least Oz looks nice.”
Xaras chuckled softly, “I thought you’d react this way.”
“Man, you don’t know the half of what I’m thinking right now,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I guess I should give you some proof of my authenticity, as if getting you here wasn’t enough,” he grumbles as he looked at Card’s clothing. He pointed his staff at him. “Nice outfit, by the way.”
“What?” He looked down at himself and found that his entire outfit had changed completely. He now wore a black jerkin over a white tunic, black breeches and leather boots and belt of the same color. “The hell!? I look like a 17th century pirate,” he commented as he looked up at Xaras.
“Don’t be so picky. That’s the style of the times here,” the old wizard smiled, patting Card on the back. “At any rate, you cannot go back, now. One way ticket. Only Faeries and a few other sylvan creatures can make that trip more than twice. The normal person doesn’t have enough magic to get them through more than twice without the person going insane.”
Card crossed his arms. “Great. So I can’t just click my heels together and chant ‘there’s no place like home’,” His frown deepened. Zepher called as he flew down to his tense shoulder. “And you came along, also.” He stroked the falcon’s head with a slight smile. He felt better having at least one familiar face along for the trip.
Xaras shook his head, a slight sound of pity in his voice. “I don’t think that falcon will ever leave your side.” He took the staff in his other hand and used it as a walking stick. “Well, come on, then. We have a long road ahead of us, it would seem.”
“Fine,” Card replied as he joined stride with his mysterious companion. “Come, Toto, were off to follow the wizard.”
Xaras gave a small laugh as Zepher flew ahead.
“Come now, Robyn. Did you really think you could fool old Hodge?” inquired the leader of the bandits. He smiled devilishly as he grabbed her chin. She vehemently twisted her head away from his clammy grasp.
“It was a thought,” she replied close to choking. ‘Hodge’ was not a well kept man by any means. His face was covered with pock marks and garrulous scars. He had no front teeth, save one, and his breath reeked of onion leeks. “Oh well. Guess I can’t fool you! So if you will just excuse me” she was cut off by a jagged dagger to her throat.
“You aren’t going anywhere, pretty,” the man to her left sneered. “I believe there’s a big price on your head, isn’t there boss?”
“Yes indeed, Robyn, a big price! And since you’re here, we intend to collect.” He grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to him, her arms still captive by the other thugs. “But I was thinking of a little fun first, what do you say, Robyn?”
She spit in his face, disgusted to no end. “Go join the abyss, you sick son of a bitch.”
He wiped his face off, still closer to her than she would have been comfortable with. “Now that’s no way for a lady to behave,” he sneered as he replaced his dagger on her bare throat. “Now how about a little kiss.”
“I don’t think so.”
Hodge turned his head in time to meet a solid oak staff with his jaw. The two thieves looked in surprise as their leader fell to the ground. Behind his limp body stood a tall man dressed in black wielding a staff. He leaned on it and gave each man an even glare. “All right, gentlemen, I give you the choice; leave the lady peacefully, or fight me.” Both thugs looked at their unconscious leader then ran away in the opposite direction.
Robyn looked at her mysterious benefactor and smiled. “Thank you for your help.” She took the knife out of her sleeve and cut open the thief’s bag, removing a single jewelry box from the clutter of stolen goods. She stood back up and dusted herself off. “My name is Samantha,” she cordially introduced herself and curtsied. Even though he had just saved her life, she felt it best not to give her true name for a while. There was a price on her head, after all. She thought that perhaps she shouldn’t have stolen that army supply wagon last month.
“Andrew Card, at your service,” he bowed, though he looked as if he was new to the experience, though he quickly recovered. “This is Xaras Laestrom, and my fine-feathered friend here is Zepher.” Robyn renewed her curtsy, just now noticing the old man. She felt awkward now. There was something severely odd about the two men. The sooner she left the better.
Xaras spoke now, looking around. “A young lady had told us that her friend was in trouble. I’m assuming she meant you, of course, but I don’t see her.” Elspeth smiled from the shadows behind Robyn.
“There you are Samantha.” She stepped out of her hiding place. “Sorry it took me so long to catch up. I had to go the long way to avoid the bandits.” It was a lie. The bandits had been tripping over each other to get away and could have cared less about her. She met eyes with Robyn, and they both knew the truth. “Once again, thanks for the help. We’d like to stay, and chat, but we really must hurry back to Aris.”
Robyn breathed an unnoticed sigh of relief. “Yes, we really must be going. We’ve kept you from your journey long enough.”
“We’ll go with you,” Card offered, pointing to the unconscious man on the ground. “If this guy wakes back up, you may need our help again.”
Xaras nodded in agreement. “Besides, we are on our way to Aris ourselves.” He paused and looked at Robyn. “I’m sorry, but in my old age, I have forgotten your name.”
“It’s Sarah,” she said unthinkingly, distracted by the disappointment of their kind offer.
“Ah, just as I thought. A minute ago you said it was ‘Samantha’,” he stated casually. Robyn grimaced. Am I that suspicious? she thought. Card looked at Zepher as he fluttered his wings in the silence. “Your reputation precedes you, Robyn Shadow-Thief, as mine should precede me, had I not been away these many years. I’m surprised you don’t know who I am.”
Elspeth spoke up for her speechless friend. “Who are you?”
“Wizard Xaras Laestrom,” he replied with a deep bow. “Come let us be on our way.” They had no choice but to follow.
-Chapter Four-
Robyn rolled her eyes once more. Elspeth was in a jovial mood, even more so that usual, telling Card everything she could about the lands. Xaras had told them that Card was new to this country, and that he had come from across the Great Sea, from the continent of Sprynia. She found herself wondering just how different things could be across the sea. The answer she gave herself was not much. Andrew Card listened intently, even though it seemed to Robyn that he wasn’t too overjoyed. He asked questions strange to her ears, as if they were coming from the mouth of an infant. The simplest things seemed to surprise him. Many things were strange about him.
“so the boy looks at the troll and points a stick at him, then the next thing you know, all that’s left is a pile of charred bones. Pretty awesome, don’t you think?” Elspeth asked excitedly, totally engrossed in her own story.
“I suppose. Is that kind of thing common?” Card asked, looking at the ground as he walked. Robyn shook her head.
“No,” Xaras answered. “Only those with the ability can use magic. Even then, it manifests itself in different ways, and at different ages.”
Robyn stopped and threw up her arms. “What is it with you, anyway?” she asked in exasperation. “Unlike these two, it seems more than a little strange to me that you know next to nothing about anything. Even if you were from Sprynia, how can you know nothing about magic, and other things besides?”
Card sighed and stopped to turn to her. He looked at Xaras, who nodded his head, then back at her. “I am not really from Sprynia, or Aithora,” he replied as nonchalantly as possible.
“Or Mordiva?” she said with animosity as she said the name.
Xaras stepped in, leaning forward on his staff. “Child, if you wish to know the truth so much, I will tell you.” He walked over to her and put her hand on his arm, much in the way that a grandfather would to a favorite child. They continued to walk as he went on to explain. “This man has been in another plane of existence for the past fifteen years, or twenty three years by his experience. There was something of a time shift when we traversed the realms, I think,” he digressed, drifting off into his theory. He saw the young woman’s impatient face and returned to the point. “He was born in this plane and left it at the age of three. I am just now returning him.”
She looked at him with a furrowed brow. “Oh, really,” she replied in a doubtful voice.
Card cut back in, matching pace with their own. “Yes, really. According to Mr. Wizard, here,” he gave the gentleman in question a meaningful look, “My mother ran off with me and took me to what he calls my ‘home plane’.” He shrugged and looked straight ahead. “One day, I was happily teaching forestry and living my life, the next, here he shows up and tells me I’ve come into inheritance. Then before you know it, I’m here, not knowing what in the hell I’m doing here or what is going on. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough,” Robyn replied, seeing that he was a little too annoyed to be lying. But, why would a wizard go after him? “You must be high born.”
“You could say that.”
Elspeth put her arm around Card’s as they walked. “Oh, that sounds interesting. Why didn’t you just say so? What Country?”
Card looked down at the enraptured young lady on his arm, then pleadingly at Xaras, who gave a small laugh. “Card’s true name is Andros Craden, if that’s any help.”
“The Mordivani prince?” the auburn haired thief asked in disbelief. “Him!?”
“Thank for the vote of confidence,” Card grumbled sarcastically.
Xaras nodded, ignoring his comment. “Yes, that is correct. We were actually on our way to Havendome, to rejoin him with his aunt, Lady Zalandra, before we met you.”
Robyn wondered just how long Xaras had been away. “Wizard Laestrom, do you have no idea about what is going on in Mordiva?”
“What do you mean, my dear?” he replied solemnly.
“Zalandra declared herself queen just shortly after the war ended. Word has it that if the true heir to the throne were to show up, she would have him executed.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Card expressed with extreme sarcasm. “I finally learn that I have family somewhere and they want to kill me on site. Nice.”
“This is disturbing news,” Xaras mused, clicking the staff on the ground with every other step. “Elspeth, is Faeana still Lady of the Liliana falls?”
“Not anymore. She passed on to her daughter, Marigold. Oh!” She exclaimed with a hand on her mouth, “That reminds me! She said that she wanted to meet with you. I believe it was fairly urgent.”
“Good.” The wizard turned to Card and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry lad, but I do need to go to Liliana falls and address this business. Continue on this path with Robyn and Elspeth, and whatever you do, do not give anyone your true name, or that you are from Mordiva while you are in Aithora. Will that be fine with you, Robyn?”
She nodded. “I don’t like it, but fine.”
“My many thanks,” he smiled warmly at her. He turned to Card and Elspeth with a bow and slowly disappeared.
Card looked at Elspeth questioningly. “Liliana Falls?”
“It is the realm of the Fay. You know, elves, fairies, nymphs, sprites, and all the others.”
“Ah. Should have known.”
The sky was fading from the clear blue of the day into the deeper rust tones of dusk as they neared the town. They were walking in silence, even Elspeth being too exhausted to keep up conversation. Robyn fumed still at the prospect of having to watch the outlander at the behest of the wizard. She stole a look at the dark haired interloper to her left. He kept his eyes forward, the day showing clearly on his face. He looked agitated, possibly more so than she felt. With a small amount of vindictiveness, she hoped he was.
Aris seemed a little quieter than it usually was. Very few people walked through town, and there was a distinct lack of children playing in the streets. The last time she had been in town was a fortnight ago, but a town didn’t change that quickly, in her experience. Where was everybody, she thought as a small frown dragged down the corners of her lips. Oh, that’s right, she sighed.
“Where is everybody?” Elspeth asked around, eyeing the town.
“The Festival,” Robyn replied, none too happy. She said the word like most people would say “The Inquisition”, in this case, loaded with dread.
“Is that a bad thing?” Card asked, as he joined the two in their brooding.
“Only if you’re name is ‘Robyn’.” Elspeth looked away and instantly brightened. “Mr. Bailey!” she waved happily as she left their group. Robyn turned and followed, leaving Card to wonder what Elspeth had meant.
Horace Bailey stopped to catch his breath and set down a large wood carving of a wolf down on the ground. Robyn looked at the small man, who was a full head shorter than herself, and mustered a small smile. He was plumb around the middle and balding on the top, a thin halo of white crowning his head. The wooden wolf cub at his feet was almost the size of his torso, the figure greatly accentuated with detail. It looked almost real, in a thoughtful, genteel pose. This did not surprise her. Nothing he made was ever fearsome in any way. Ever since she had known the old craftsman, he had made woodcarvings for children.
“Ah, Elle! And Robyn, too, I see! Nice to see you back in town,” He smiled jovially at the two young women before him.
“I see we made it to town in time to catch the Festival,” Robyn stated casually, not letting her emotions show in any direction.
Elspeth leaned down to look at the carving, running a hand over it as if she was petting the real thing. “He’s so pretty! And you did him life-sized, too.” She looked back at Card, who had been standing to the back. “Look, Card! Isn’t so handsome?”
Robyn saw the look of intrigue on the craftsman’s face as he noticed the finely clad man behind them. “Horace, this is Andrew Card,” she said as she stepped to the side and motioned to the man behind her.
Horace stuck out a work-roughened hand and gave Card his biggest smile as they shook in greeting. “Oh, a new face! A pleasure it is to meet you, young sir.” He gave a conspiratorial wink to Robyn. “I knew you’d bring home a fine gentleman one day, my dear. There is hope for you still!”
Robyn rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Don’t make anything of it, Mr. Bailey. I am just his guide while he’s in the area, nothing else to it.”
He made a sour face, “Ah, none of that “Mr.” stuff. You know it makes me feel old.” He looked at Card once again smiling. “You are to call me Horace at all times, my lad. And a pleasure it is to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Horace. You do good work,” Card nodded at the carving.
Horace beamed happily, “Not work, lad, not work. Just a passing hobby that puts food on the table, is all. I’ve got a stall at the festival where I’ve got some of my best set up, if you’re interested in seeing them.”
Robyn cut in before he could answer, “Actually, Horace, we need to see Jasop first. We most likely won’t be able to attend”
“Ah, but Jasop is the ringleader in the festival, this year! Gotta go there if you want to see him.” Robyn suppressed the urge to scowl, maintaining a blank look. It figured that he would be there. He just had to do things like that. He was outgoing. He had been a friend since she had first come to this town seven years ago, though, and she wasn’t going to hold his personality against him for long. She just wasn’t going to like it. Then she realized that Horace was still talking. “Aye, but the festival awaits. And my stall awaits this wolfie here.” He laughed heartily. “I’ll get it there eventually.”
“Here, let me get that,” Card stepped forward, picking up the wolf. Robyn was surprised at his ease in lifting it, but then again, she thought, he was younger and stronger than Horace.
“Ah, well met, indeed! I didn’t know young people helped these days! All off thinking of war and whatnot, most of them are. Say, my shop is just right there. Why don’t you ladies go on to the festivities while I steal your gentleman here,” he said as he veered the two of them to the direction of the Square with a hand on each ones shoulder.
“All right, but don’t bring him back too soon,” Robyn smiled slightly as they walked off.
Horace turned to Card, who was smirking and slowly shaking his head as he watched them leave. He clapped the traveler on the shoulder. “And now, we can get to work and you can fill me in on who you are.”
He sat on the rooftop thinking as he watched the four go their separate ways. It was good to be home, he thought, resting from his long journey over the day. He felt better now that he was back on Aithorian soil. He took a moment to curse all wizards and spell casters, then flexed his right shoulder, still sore from a previous injury. It will be completely healed in a few more days, he thought to himself. It was all thanks to the kindness of another person, kindness that he hand long since forgotten existed. That person had his eternal loyalty. He would have to repay the debt one day, but for now, he had things to attend.
He watched the men enter the workshop, laughing at something that he had not heard, their backs to him as they went about their business. Silently, he moved to the other end of the building and looked over the town to the Festival. It had fallen completely into darkness throughout the rest of the town except for the lanterns lit in that area. He watched the women who had previously stood in the street as they walked in silence to the festivities. The blonde woman grinned as she took in the sights and the aromas, those of which even he could smell from his high perch, as the dark haired woman looked stoically for someone else, a bag slung over her shoulder. She stopped and turned, looking up at the top of the edifice on which he stayed. Seeing nothing, and feeling nothing but an uneasy feeling, he guessed, she turned away and continued on her path. He would have grinned if he could, but instead, took off into the night.
Robyn looked on as the people danced happily. She rubbed her right arm as she thought,
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I love your language and the manner that you express yourself. Your word choice is exceptional. Still, I have a big problem with your consistency. You almost seem to leap and bound through the different events in your book. One minute you are over here and the next over there. It gets a little confusing and I try to think why you would write it like that, with so many segments and points of view, but I still think that if you made your thoughts more consistent and your flow more linear it will ultimately help your book in the end. I always hated books that made me confused as to who was talking, first it was this guy, then it was that guy, then it was this guy but it was two years after. I don’t know. I think you should experiment a little with your book organization. But overall, I really like the story and think you have some real talent. Keep up the good work and I hope to see some of your other pieces soon.
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Ladyauthor2b reviewed Version 1 -
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This is a very interesting story. I was a bit surprised when I discovered that Card was the young prince in the beginning of this. The leap to the future sort of sprang at me, but I knew that Mariah was heading to the Liliana’s falls, but wasn’t quite sure why. I am uncertain if all of our story posted on Urbis or not, but it seems there could be a bit more between Mariah and her sister-in-law, some more reason why else Mariah felt really scared for her son’s life.
Of course for Card to be in the future in Chapter two, she had used the fairies’ magic to transport him there somehow. I really liked his character and the easy rapport between him and Brianna. In fact, this tiny bit of their background is almost similiar to the two of the characters that I write about in my story; that they were raised in foster care, Catholic influences.
Perhaps great minds think alike??
It was eerie to read your version, so similar, but it departs there, in the ways of where the freinds go in their relationship. Anyhow, I right away could see a strong impression about Card, he is strong, smart, and very easy going in nature. He’s a very likable character and easy to identify with, and so is the wizard that comes to fetch him back to Mordiva. I reallyliked the wizard, he’s sort of like Obi Wan Kenobi to Luke Skywalker, or like Merlin to King author.
The explanation that the country is not on any map seems likely in the way it’s explained. I would think it would show more going on for Card and Brianna to research it out on their own, especially if they never heard of the place. The introduction of Robyn brings intrigue, becuase she is a thief and she has the disbelief in Card right at the beginning of their knowing each other. I sense that there could be relationship to evolve once they tangle with the people that wish to bring harm to Card (they must exist, if the new Queen suspects he could return) and to capture Robyn for her crimes. I can see Card desperately trying to rescue her somewhow. I do see her as brave and fiesty, and they are good opposites of each other to really bring a fire to a budding romance.
That’s the next steps I see for your novel, for Card to face the Queen, win over the people who have no clue about him either, and to see the relationship build between Card and Robyn, and also with the Wizard, who seems to be his biggest ally. I really enjoyed this story alot and I”m not a major reader of Sci fi. My son would get a kick of this because of the falcon in it. I want to see the ending, how it’s all played out. Best of luck to you and I really could imagine this being a movie, not just a book!! Keep writing!!
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