aeran- the taking (part of it)

8/8/2019 Aeran- The Taking (Part of it)

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The Chapters of Aeran: The Taking

The Chaptersof

Aeran

The Taking

By: Aaron Hill




Chapters

Chapter 1Fond Farewells... 1

Chapter 2Four years gone... 15

Chapter 3 Nightly visitor... 30




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Chapter 1

F o n d F a r e w e l l s

Far away was a world called Phenocia. On the surface of Phenocia were vast oceans and one

large continent named Azrocka, a land which was beautiful, ugly, harsh, and forgiving all at one

simultaneous moment. The seas surrounding it were teeming with life and ruled by the king/god of all

the waters, Titanus. An old man, as old as the seas themselves, but very powerful and god-like he was.

He could control the currents, he controlled the tides. He even had command over all the creatures of

the ocean. He especially favored the race of the Nearonions, fish-like people who had small gills that

allowed them to breath under water. They looked very much humanoid, except for the gills and

outrageous hair colors. They also sung everything they said. They were beautiful to behold if one

could view them or had the chance to listen to their songs. They also spoke of prophesies of what

would come to pass and would appear to whomever the prophesy pertained to and were almost always

accurate in their predictions.

On land, there was a special country by the sea called Aeran. It was a moderately large country

and had quite a pull of influence on the other lands of Azrocka. The land of Aeran was fruitful. It was

a land of paradise and tranquility. The land was good and the resources plenty. It was a land where

justice and rightful wisdom ruled above all. This is, sadly, where our tale of hardship begins.

One day, by the great lake, Julep, the old king, Birdseye, sat reading a book. The king was tall

and intimidating, however anyone who was close to him knew that he as a kind, light-hearted man. His




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eyes looked as if they could stare into your soul yet they were blue, the calmest of the colors. His hair

was graying a little bit, but it was evident that his hair was, in some distant past, a thick bed of black.

He had a slight heard growing around his chin, which he liked to keep in a point, just as his father, the

ruling king of Aeran before him, did. His fingers were long and held two rings on each. Around his

head he wore a crown, not the crown that he would wear on diplomatic occasions, which was known as

the High Crown. This one was simple, a golden band with a horn-shaped piece connected to the front

and small gems around the side of the band. He preferred this crown for its simplicity and elegance,

unlike the High Crown, which was large and bulky, a crown made to show the grandeur and power of

the king's estate. No, this crown he preferred over that. It was more like his personality... humble and

peaceful.

The king didn't have a particular taste for taking the credit for when credit wasn't due. He

thought that the credit, good or bad, should be given to whom it deserved. This was a philosophy that

he had been taught by his father, Philos the Great. He had many fond memories of his father by the

lake that he sat by now. Although, he often wondered if he had really gotten all from his father that he

ought to have learned. When he was younger he often didn't pay attention to his father's way of gov-

erning the kingdom. He would occasionally observe him and learn from him, but he never really did

watch and observe like he should have. This worried the king and made him more aware of his own

actions now that he was ruling the land and his father wasn't there to guide and advise him. It was

times such as this that the king wished that his father were here to help him, knowing in the back of his

mind that his father was up in heaven somewhere, watching over him, but allowing him to make the

mistakes that he had brought upon himself. And that was the bitter old truth, that he was alone on this

earth, however he knew that in heaven there was someone watching over him, but on this world, and in

this land that he ruled, he was alone with the weight of a country on his shoulders.




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The birds sang contently in the trees and the squirrels played happily as all squirrels do. The

fish swam repetitively in circles and bees buzzed through the air from flower bud to flower bud, gather-

ing their pollen to their hearts' content. The clouds rolled in lazily, as if taking in the beauty of the land

below as the Sun smiled it's gentle rays upon the grass, warming the world to its pleasure. The king sat

on a large stone bench in the shadow of his castle, Belmore.

This edifice was built by the giants who lived in a country north of Aeran called Renbelrum. It

was a land ruled by the giants and the giants alone, where many mountains and valleys of pure stone

dominated the landscape. The giants built massive structures on the mountain sides and towns on the

rocky surface. They were known for their strong fortresses, so for this reason they asked the giants to

build Belmore. Eventually a pact was made and Belmore was built. Now, it stood, unchanged,

unshaken, a symbol of their government and their king by extension.

King Birdseye stared at the words on the page of his book, not really comprehending them for

the thoughts in his head were out speaking the words on the page in front of him. Thoughts of new

laws and meetings with important people from other kingdoms flooded his mind, defeating the purpose

of relaxing, as he had attempted to accomplish with the mute pages of the book that sat before him in

his hands.

The Sun lay hidden now behind a cloud. Birdseye turned his wrinkled brow upwards to face

the blanket that passed over the great star. This to him summed up his fears. The fear that something

was blocking his way from restoring peace to the land. For trouble was brewing, as he knew, and the

cloud seemed to be his obstacle from returning peace to his kingdom. How he wished sometimes that

he was not king, that his burden was never placed on him. The pressure lifted at once from his shoul-

ders. He once only wanted to be king, but now, at times, he wished that he led a different, more simple

life as a farmer or a peasant. They seemed to be the most happy, the most content of all the people in




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his kingdom. They didn't have to worry about pleasing the rulers of foreign countries or making new

laws and regulations for the country. They had the better life in his eyes, as old as they were.

A soft breeze moved through the air, disturbing the pages of the book in his hand. The pages

turned freely seeing as how his finger wasn't blocking the page from moving. Birdseye was watching

the surroundings around him. Everything changing around him, like life, always changing, sometimes

for the better, sometimes for the worst. The trick is to master it, to work with it like a potter works with

clay spinning on a potter's wheel. That's the horrible truth, that life doesn't stay still, it keeps moving,

and it only moves one direction: forward.

The wind rippled the surface of the water gently, making small waves hitting against the edge of

the lake. It was at this moment that the king noticed something in the water. Something was under-

neath the surface, just far enough so that he could distinguish its shape. There were three humanoid

shapes in the water, and they moved closer he could tell that they were Nearonions, two females and

one male. One woman had a lyre in her arms. They moved towards the surface of the lake slowly but

surely.

The woman with they lyre had a slender body, blue hair, and small features. Her eyes were blue

and her lips were red. Her skin was pale from the little exposure to the Sun. The woman next to her

was very similar. Her hair was red and her lips were blue. Her features were moderate yet striking.

The man was also slender and very handsome. His hair was long and the color of seaweed. His fea-

tures were sharp, in a handsome way. His body wasn't very muscular, which was good because it

would have taken away from his simple beauty. Each Nearonion was dressed in a fabric that seemed to

be made from the water itself. Their legs moved gracefully as if walking up invisible steps as they

swam up towards the surface.

When they broke the surface of the lake the king smiled and stood. He set the book down, not




5

making note of what page he was on, and walked with open arms to the three Nearonions. The one

with the lyre stroked lazily yet accurately with swift ease as he approached them. There was a long si-

lence, broken only by the crisp, light strumming of the lyre. The king bowed to the three guests, show-

ing a sign of respect to their noble race. This apparently is what the three Nearonions were waiting for,

for after he raised himself they bowed to him too.

“Greetings, and who do I have the pleasure of meeting today?” asked King Birdseye.

The one playing the lyre answered first. She sang, “I am Aura.”

The man sang, in the voice of a countertenor, “My name's Grentel.”

The other woman sang, “And I am Tresa.”

Then they all three sang, “We're sisters and brother. We come to you, king. Many blessings

upon you and your country.”

“And many blessings to your grand city of Beaumare.”

“Thank you lordship,” said Grentel.

“So,” the king said, his voice bold and confident, “what brings you here to the upper realms of

the land? You probably didn't come to only exchange greetings, am I right?”

The three Nearonions looked at him intently. Then all three opened their mouths and sang, “Oh

gracious king of Aeran, we three come to you in peaceful times naught! For danger is looming on your

doorstep! Send out the guardians! Protect your way of life!”

This statement disturbed the king, but not showing his disturbance the king said to them, “I

have no idea what you mean. Nothing could be better here in Aeran. We are at a time of peace and no

such threat looms at our doorstep. So thank you for your worry, but we are not in need of it.”

Tresa swam forward. “We've seen a glimpse of the future near! The government ruling the

lives of the people!”




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Grentel came forward too. “The constitution which guides you with faithfulness shall be

abused and diminished!”

“A day of darkness looms near! Your freedom's will be shortened and the people deprived of

them.” exclaimed Aura.

“This we warn you,” they said in unison. “Heed our warnings and prepare your country for our

words of prophesy.”

These words troubled the king deeply. The government they had for many years was fair and

pleasing. The government would have control over the people, but allow the people to make their own

choices. The people had a say in what they wanted, leaving the king to finally sort out what was truly

best in his judgment. Individual freedom was prized above all in their government. To hear of a possi-

ble threat deeply troubled him. However, the Nearonions were known for their trickery and games as

well as their wisdom and prophesies. It was often hard to determine a trick from a true prophesy.

Sometimes a Nearonion might give a fake prophesy to a weary traveler or an unsuspecting person and

sit and watch the results in glee, eventually revealing that they have been tricked.

“Well, thank you for the warning, but there is not threat on the horizon. Our skies look clear for

now.”

“But that's not all,” sang Grentel. “There are signs of these events. First, you shall go into war

with a country in the east. Second, your economy shall suffer dearly and you shall fall into depression.

Then thirdly the people shall turn against your government and another person shall be raised up to

godly status and worshiped as such. Thus, this person shall be the end of your government.”

“But do not despair,” said Aura, “for along shall come a hero, a boy of age young! To end he

shall bring this reign of the evil one!”

“You'll know him by this, and this only thing,” said Tresa, “ by the mark on his arm in the form




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of a ring.”

This sounded a little specific to the king. Maybe a little too specific. The king just nodded with

a smile on his face. “Well, then, I'll be on the look out for anything suspicious.”

As he turned to leave the voice of Aura stopped him dead in his tracks. “You take this too light-

ly, dear king. We only wish to look after the welfare of Aeran and the rest of Azrocka. Is that too much

to ask? Please, King Birdseye, I know you are distrusting of shocking news by nature, but please, we

beg you, if not for us but for the sake of your country heed our warnings we offer up to you!”

The king turned around angrily towards the three of them with rage boiling underneath his skin.

“No listen here, you slimy fish! I know you all are trying to trick me as you so love to do and I shall

not be known as the king who was tricked by a couple of Nearonions who gave him a false prophesy.

So you can take your jokes and tricks elsewhere you sneaky little eels! Leave my sight at once! I have

an important matter to attend to!”

The three of them turned around, quite annoyed. The women swam away, but Grentel stayed.

He turned to the king and sang, “Woe be to you! Woe be to you! Woe be to you and your people!

Heed our words or you shall perish with the thought, the Nearonions were right. Heed me! Heed me!

Heed me now and change your fate.” Then he slipped down into the waters, concealed once again by

the murky surface of the lake. As the king watched he saw the first drops of a rain storm hit the placid

surface of the water. He hurriedly ran inside, grabbing the book from the bench. It was at that moment

that he started to wonder if he really should have believed them.

The king went inside the comfort of his palace. He walked down the hall and went up the stairs

passing beautiful tapestries, paintings, and suits of armor on the way towards his office. He arrived

there and opened the great polished mahogany door revealing a large oval shaped office. There were

bookshelves and two busts of old rulers along the walls. The busts were of his father, Philos the Great,




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and the first king of Aeran, Themel the Founder. There was a large desk of cherry in the middle of the

room with quills and parchments residing on top along with a half burnt candle on each side. On the

front of the desk was engraved the seal of Aeran, a shied divided into thirds. In each piece was a differ-

ent symbol. In the top left piece was a hammer, representing hard work. In the top right was a lion for

loyalty and strength. Then in the bottom section was a lily representing peace and tranquility over a

spear, representing the willingness to fight if provoked. There was a scroll at the bottom of the crest

which said in old Aeranian ' Licentia ut Totus', which translated means 'Freedom to All.' Underneath the

desk was a large mosaic showing the country's flag. It had the crest in the middle, excluding the motto,

with three strips of red, white, and blue going horizontally. Behind the desk was a tall chair whose

back was facing three tall windows overlooking the lake which the king had just recently been by.

The king moved to the tall seat and settled himself. He noticed, sitting upon his desk, an

unknown object in the form of a scroll. Around the scroll was a ribbon with the seal of Rune-shta-

mata, a country in the north of Azrocka, the largest of all the countries in Azrocka. The king opened it

up and read the following:

King Birdseye:

I and my advisors have been going over your proposal that you delivered to me about

a possible granting of building a military base in the southern part of our great country.

This at the first notion of the idea seemed to be ludicrous and I was going to write you

back suggesting that you get some mental treatment for your sudden urge of madness.

However, I have looked it over with my advisors and we have noticed that this would be

beneficial for us both, if you would agree to the terms that we suggest.

We wish to set up our own base in the northern regions of Aeran. Near the town of

Bamela is preferred. If you grant this to us then we would be happy to allow you to build




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your base here in our lovely land. I cannot wait to meet you in person on this matter. I

shall be there on the twenty-sixth this month. I cannot wait to meet you in person.

Speaking on parchment is not as stimulating for the mind.

Sincerely,

Solatar Hashkavich von Gorloff

King Birdseye was very pleased at hearing this. He didn't have any problem with Rune-shta-

mata setting up a base in northern Aeran. They're friendly, despite their past of being enemies with

Aeran. They used to be under a system of government that was against the Aeranian system so they

were in a cold war for years. But then they switched their governments to the same as Aeran's so that

made them friends. That seemed to confuse King Birdseye. It seems that someone isn't your friend

unless their beliefs could somewhat be compatible with our own. Is this why man can never seem to

find peace with the world around him? Or is it because it is simply not our nature to be in complete

balance with all those around us?

He got up from his seat and looked out the window, contemplating what he had heard from the

Nearonions who visited earlier. He still thought that they were just trying to trick him, but something

about Grentel staying behind to give him extra warning got to him. Maybe it was true. Could it have

been that they were telling the truth and that he was just to stubborn to admit that they were right?

Although the news seemed remarkable, extraordinary even. But given the past of the Nearonions and

their reputation of random acts of trickery it was the most logical choice to make.

He stood there, staring out the window, watching the repetitive motion of the rain drops,

making their pitter-patter sounds upon the panes of glass. And all the while the words repeated in his

mind, “Woe be to you! Woe be to you! Woe be to you and your people! Heed our words or you shall




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perish with the thought, the Nearonions were right.”

A month later, the country Areshina, a country to the east of Aeran, declared war on them.

* * *

The day was bright, young, and new. The Sun hung high in the sky overlooking the world

below. The songs of the birds pierced the air as the wind carried their sweet tune to the ears of the

people running through their solitary lives in average, everyday monotony. The grass swept over like

waves in an ocean of green and yellow. On the edge of the horizon was the town of Tenhill.

Tenhill was a quaint little town with few people. Tenhill got its name from where it was built.

There was a series of ten large hills that held most of the buildings, excluding the homes which were

built around the bases and sides of the hills. It was a quiet little place. It was not hard to miss, but not

well known either. Same as the people there, except for one famous person, Rigardio Watner, who was

a famous composer and still had a house on the tallest hill, even though he lived in the capitol. He

visited every Summer to see the flowers and to relax from his busy life in which he normally lives.

The town also was on the edge of the great river, Tibor, which was home to many nymphs who

entertained the little children who occasionally came down to swim and play. The nymphs were more

friendly towards the children than the older people. Once a child hit the age of thirteen the nymphs

seemed to be more distant from them. If it was a boy, though, they'd play with their emotions a bit. It

was actually very funny to watch. Some of the elder people would sit and watch just to laugh at the

boys who fell for it. Which isn't really nice, but funny all the same.

On the edge of the town border, along the road, there was a family standing with their son. The




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boy was about eighteen years old. He was handsome and had a good complexion. He had deep blue

eyes that seemed to sparkle when the light hit them just right. His hair was blond and short. He wasn't

an incredibly muscular guy, but he was somewhat strong. All in all, an average teen boy on the verge

of adulthood. The only oddity about him was a funny sort of birth mark on his forearm: a ring, and an

oddly perfect one at that. It was just a reddish outline of a circle, nothing more, yet it was the first

thing that everyone seemed to notice about him.

His name was Samuel.

He was a young man with a typical past and a good future ahead. Samuel was an archetypal

boy. He was adventurous, sociable, and athletic. He liked to be outdoors and he liked to have fun. His

ex-girlfriend, Gina, called him Puppy Sam because he was so energetic and liked to play a lot. Samuel

did things that he regretted, things that he wasn't proud of, but it seemed that those things were

outweighed by the serendipitous moments that we all love to experience. Then there were those

moments that you just couldn't tell if you should regret or count as a blessing. Either way, those were

in the past, a past he was leaving behind for a brighter, more prominent future. Samuel was now going

on a journey by himself. He always wanted to see lands beyond Aeran. He loved traveling and this

seemed like the best time to do so, now that he was eighteen and out of school.

He looked at his family, his parents' faces conveying a sense of both great misery and an

abundance of pride at the same time. After all, they had raised him, taught him their ways, educated

him, fed and clothed him. And now, he was leaving them. Samuel was going off into the real world, a

man now, making his own choices and facing his own obstacles. He didn't quite know what he thought

of that. He was, in a way, in fear of the future at times. A dark cloud of uncertainty misted over the

senses of the heavenly being who was in guard of the future, for not even he could perfectly tell what

the future over which he had domain over held for man. The future was always uncertain and




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unknowing to all, like a sheet swept over ones eyes, blocking their view of the road in front of them.

Next to him was a horse. Not much else to describe it with, just a brown horse with a good

temper. It's name was Elephant, due to the curiously shaped spot on its side, which resembled an

elephant to everyone who beheld it.

In front of him stood his family. A tall man with a receding hairline and a light mustache with a

prominent nose could only be identified as his father. He was a hard worker, which showed through

the tone of his muscles and the slight farmer's tan which covered his arms and neck. He was also a

simple man, he didn't need a lot out of life to be happy, he just needed to know that there would be a

tomorrow to look forward to. On top of his head was a simple hat and he was wearing a simple shirt

and pants, the clothes of a common laborer, nothing special.

His mother was a plump little woman. She was round in the face and short of neck. Her blond

hair, slowly turning gray with years and wisdom, was up in a bun. Her brown eyes were small and

squinted. Her nose was large and her skin pasty and covered in wrinkles. Crows feet sprang from her

eyes and worry lines stretched across her forehead. She was a humble woman, didn't need much but

enjoyed it when opportunity crossed paths with her own life. The fact that she was married to a hard

worker was good, but she secretly desired more. Out of a nineteen year marriage there was no more

spark. It seemed that he made no attempt to resurrect it again either. She often caught herself

imagining about some of the younger men in town, always bringing back to reality the fact that she was

in love with her husband. But then that feeling of desire would always return to haunt her for a little

while longer.

Samuel smiled at his mother and father. He loved them very much, however he wanted to leave

them. Was this normal for a boy his age? This feeling of wanting to break away, was it justifiable? He

didn't know. He supposed it was, why else did everyone else's children leave their parents at one time




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or another? He looked at them affectionately. He wanted this moment to never end, although the

silence was hard to get past. His father opened his mouth, as if trying to extract the words from his

throat but instead found him closing it again, discovering he could not pull them out into sound as

easily as he believed.

Then his mother found the words that her father was searching for. “Well, after eighteen years

of taking care of you... here you are! My little baby all grown up, ready to leave his poor dear parents

to enter the cold, dark world.” She gave him a hug after she was through, nearly squeezing the breath

out of Samuel. She released him after he pleaded with her to loosen her grip.

“You done us proud, boy, and don't you forget that,” said his father, his eyes starting to tear up,

despite his attempts to hold it back.

“Thanks, Dad. I'm going to miss you guys so much,” said Samuel. He too was starting to tear

up like his father. Soon his mother started to get a drop of water from her tear duct too. “I'm going to

write to you every week.”

“Oh honey, you don't need to do that. Once every two weeks is fine,” said his mother, cracking

a smile.

He chuckled a bit, “Okay, Mom.”

“So son, where are you goin' again?” asked his father.

“I'm going to travel the continent and my first big stop will be in Cor. I'm then going to go to

the edge of the land and then I will come back.”

“What will you do for money?” asked his mother.

“I'll do a couple of odd jobs,” he said. “By the great Rowlin, you two have the worst memories

I've ever come across!” he said, jokingly.

“Promise you'll keep yourself safe?” asked his mother.




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“Of course,” he said.

“Don't do anything stupid, ya' hear?” said his father.

“I won't.” Although in the back of all their minds they knew that there was a likely chance that

he would do something stupid. However each one of their ideas own stupid came a little differently to

them. For his mother, she pictured something like provoking a horse to much and getting kicked in the

head. For his father, he pictured him gambling all his money and losing everything they gave him. For

Samuel, he pictured himself getting drunk at a bar and discovering on his way back that he was a

father. (But at least his was a little more fun to think about.) The wind picked up at the moment,

cooling their damp skin from the tiny beads of sweat which protruded from their pores.

“Well,” said his father, “I guess that you ought to start movin' on out.”

“Yeah, if you want to get to the next village by sunset, you better go now.”

“Alright.” He hugged both of his parents and then jumped onto the back of Elephant and rode

off into the valley, away from his parents, his hometown, and by extension his past. What lay ahead for

him was uncertain, but he took full charge at it anyway.




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Chapter 2

F o u r Y e a r s G o n e

Four years later... Samuel was in the country Aztar, a beautiful country in the far east with vast

jungles and exotic creatures. Aztar was a fairly isolated country, it was technologically advanced, but it

had very little trade with the rest of the world. That's the reason why Samuel loved Aztar so much... it

was such a quiet country.

Samuel was in a hut in the middle of a jungle, just off the beaten track. Standing just outside

the threshold was Elephant, tied to a pole so he wouldn't wander off. It was a cozy place. Inside there

was an oak table and a hole in the wall which served him well as a fireplace with a little cauldron

hanging over a smoldering fire inside. There were three windows looking out into the dense jungle.

There were cabinets on the walls and along the walls were odds and ends, such as a fishing pole, a net,

a spear, a dagger, and other things you'd find in a small hut in the jungle that you'd possibly need. In

the corner was a small bed, which was very comforting, despite the first look of it, which showed that

it might have been very displeasurable to sleep on. The only part that Samuel hated about living off the

road in a jungle was that there were huge insects. And to them he was a human sized buffet.

Samuel was hunched over the table, studying a piece of paper intently. It was a map of the

surrounding land. Aztar was a very confusing country, geography-wise. Most of the cities have names

that sound alike, like Hanser and Hansir (Hanser being pronounced with -an and Hansir pronounced

with a long 'a' sound). There were also many mountains and jungles and each section of jungle had a

name. The problem was that the boundaries between each one was very detailed and almost




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indistinguishable. If you passed over one specific root of a tree you could find yourself in a different

section of the jungle and not know for days.

The noises of the jungle outside calmed him as he looked over the complicated terrain of Aztar.

If it wasn't for that he'd have gone mad from just looking at it. Aztar was the one country that he never

bothered to learn completely. In school when they talked about it they always gave them detailed maps

so he didn't ever really memorize it. So he was trying to compensate now for his past negligence. He

sort of felt lonely out here in the jungle, all alone. There was nobody by the horse to talk to and,

honestly, the horse didn't hold up a good conversation. But every so often he'd receive messages from

home, they'd let him know how things are going around town, apparently one of his ex-girlfriends,

Sarah, got married to John, a popular guy who was always working out. He's had many girlfriends,

and undoubtedly fathered many of the unexplained births that happened while they were in high

school. He wasn't the right kind of guy for her, but Samuel couldn't control who she married. She was

smart, a creative spirit, a woman who would be more of a match for... well, Samuel. But John was all

brawn and no brain. If it didn't deal with a sport, hunting, or girls, he didn't care. She needed a man

who cared about her, who was sensitive, who could satisfy her physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Josh was just not that type.

He sat there, contemplating the map, when a sound came from the window that he recognized.

It was a sound that he knew not from the jungle, but from home. It sounded like an owl. Could it

possibly be a small brown owl with black specks along its body? A possibility, but could it be a

reality? He got up and walked to the window. He looked towards the East. There was nothing but

dense jungle. He heard the sound again. He went to the right side of the room and looked towards the

West and there it was... a small brown owl with little black pecks all along its body. In its beak it

carried a small envelope sealed with wax. The owl flew effortlessly through the sky as if it wasn't




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weighed down at all by the envelope. Samuel opened up the window as the owl drew closer. It flew

through with ease and landed on the table. Samuel closed the window and stared at the familiar owl.

It looked at him with a blank look and then dropped the envelope on the table, looking back up

at him again. Samuel went over and stroked the bird's feathers. The owl's name was Grentig. It was

his families messaging owl and sort of their pet too. Samuel got a piece of bread for the tired bird and

it started pecking at it immediately, devouring the tiny morsel within minutes. It ruffled its feathers

and then started to clean itself.

Meanwhile, Samuel looked at the letter. On it was a elegant handwriting, written with crude

black ink made in the home of a farmer. It was red, which hinted that red berries were mixed in with

the ink, and the hue was very dark. The only place where he knew that you could get that shade of red

ink was in Aeran, and, more specifically, Tenhill. On the envelope was written: To Samuel; From Mom

and Dad. Samuel was excited to hear from his parents. The last he heard from them was six months

ago. He tore open the letter and scanned through it. He was surprised at what he read.

It read: Dear Samuel,

Honey, things are not right in Aeran. I know you have been in Aztar for the past couple months

and you probably haven't heard about it so I am telling you now. First of all, the war is over. It ended

about five days after you left. (Please excuse the lateness, this was the only time that I had to write to

you.) That could be seen as a good or a bad thing, depending on which side your on, I guess. Anyway,

Aeran has, as a result of the war, had a slight economic recession. Some seem to want to call it a full-

blown depression. I sometimes wonder if they are right.

Anyway, there has been a total uprising in our government. There's a new ruler, and her name

is Arasjia. She has been in power for four months and already she has turned the government upside

down. Her policies are harming us economically and adding to our recession. Yet all the people are




18

somehow under her spell. They agree with everything that she says and if you don't they call you an

enemy of the crown. Arasjia is the leader of a new political party called the Generation. They believe

in everything opposite of the party that ruled us since the beginning of Aeran. I fear for the future of

our country. It's like everyone, except for a great few, are hypnotized and they attack those who are

critical of the new leaders plans. Please, Samuel, come home. We need you here.

-Momma

Samuel was shocked. He looked at the owl who was at the window, waiting for it to become

magically ajar so that he may fly out. Samuel released the bird into the air. As it flew gracefully away

he thought about his parents. It sounded like they were not 'under the spell', as she had called it, and if

they were attacking people who disagreed with the new government then what would they do to them?

Samuel couldn't bear to think of it. He went over to his map and folded it up and jammed it into his

satchel. As soon as he grabbed up everything that was needed, he left the cottage, not bothering to lock

the door in his frenzied haste to get to his parents. He mounted Elephant's back and galloped away

from the grass-formed hut and towards his native country of Aeran, back to his home.

Two weeks passed before he arrived in Tenhill. He and Elephant gallivanted through the streets

of his familiar former stomping grounds. He directed his horse to stop in the middle of the road.

Samuel dismounted as it shook its mane.

The landscape looked so much different, so much more gloomy and depressing than he

remembered it to be, not to say that it wasn't a saddening experience in the first place. The sky was

dark and cloudy, with an occasional wind sweeping by, pushing a lonely piece of paper or some other

debris along with it. The town seemed deserted to him. The roads were empty for the most part,

except for the random person who stepped into or walked out of a nearby store. They all moved with a




19

sort of hypnotic daze. They all looked happy and content, a little bit too happy to be considered normal

by any means.

Samuel walked down the street a little, nudging his horse to travel along side him. He noticed

his ex-girlfriend, Gina. She apparently noticed him too for she made a wide grin across her face when

he happened to see her. Gina was a small, thin girl with blond hair, which she normally kept straight,

but today had up in a bun (which Samuel thought was very becoming of her). She had piercing blue

eyes, which shimmered like the water when the Sun bounced off of them just right. She was a very

attractive girl, which was her only really useful attribute. She wasn't exactly known for her scholarly

pursuits amongst the town's boys. But then again, there weren't many girls with an attractive look and

a sharp wit to match around Tenhill, just like any other small community that you come across. She

ran up to him and hugged him tightly. He repeated the gesture, which brought back fond memories of

when they dated.

“Oh, Sam! How are you!? I've missed you so much!” she exclaimed.

“Hey, I've missed you, too. I heard you got married,” he said.

“Yeah. Josh proposed to me and I, well, said yes.”

“I see that. So why did you marry him anyway?” Samuel asked out of curiosity.

“Because he's so charming, and I love him, that's why. So why have you not married

someone?”

“Because I've been traveling, that's why,” he said, smiling. The both laughed for a moment and

then he became serious. “Hey, what's going on here? I got a message from my mom saying something

about new leader and people are being attacked. What's going on?”

She looked at him, repeating the serious face he gave to her. “Yes, we do have a new leader,

Arasjia. She's been in power for the past four months. She has a lot of ideas for the country, you know.




20

She thinks that the government needs to be bigger and more in control. She thinks that we need to

make it so that the government can provide more services to the people. She also claims that we need

to each do our part to help her with these plans.”

“That is so messed up. We don't have to work for the ruler, the ruler should work for us. And

the government shouldn't do more to provide for us! They should stay out of our business. That's how

our constitution was written. Also it sounds like they're spending too much. They should conserve

money and save! It's like their trying to control us and keep us dependent on them. Isn't that stupid?”

Gina looked at him, as if stricken with fear. “You don't really mean that, do you?” she asked.

“You are only joking, right?”

“No, I'm serious. You shouldn't have to bow down to the government, that's what Hensam

does... and they're a dictatorship!”

Gina stepped back. She seemed scared of something. She opened up her mouth and closed it

quickly without even uttering so much as a syllable. Then she said, with a strong sense anger in her

voice, “How dare you defy Arasjia! She's the best thing that ever happened to Aeran... perhaps to the

world!”

For the first time, a woman besides his mother struck fear into him. He stepped back a little bit

as Gina moved forward with strength in her step. Her face was scrunched up with rage. Some other

people were overhearing and gathered up behind Gina against him. And they were people that knew

him too. Friends from school, store owners, teachers, friends' parents, and others. They all looked

angry with him.

Samuel held tighter on Elephant's reigns. They started to back up. “What's going on? Why do

you all look so mad. Where's my parents?”

“They were very mean towards Arasjia. So we had to take care of them,” said Gina, smiling




21

psychotically as she said it.

Samuel mounted Elephant's back. “You're all monsters! You all have been blinded from

reason!”

“Come now,” said one of the people from the crowd, “all we want to do is make you see it our

way. And if you don't then we'll just have to... dispose of you.” They all approached with weapons in

their hands, which Samuel had just then noticed that they were carrying.

Suddenly, he had found the motion in his legs and broke into action. He bid Elephant to rear up

and then started to gallop away through the mob. Quickly they followed behind him as he rode

towards the western gate of town. The people jeered and yelled behind him. An old lady with bad

teeth and a smell to match said in almost a sing-son manner, “Come back, honey, you must be punished

for being a bad boy!”

Samuel kept going forward until he almost reached the boundary of the town. But up ahead

was a barricade of people, creating a wall of bodies, preventing him from exiting the gate. There was

only one thing that he could do. As he approached the wall of people he prompted the horse to jump.

Elephant leaped clear over the barricade and landed on the other side. Elephant, free from Samuel's

command, instinctively kicked open the gate leading out of the town and galloped down the beaten-

down dirt path towards the west.

What was going on, he thought to himself. Why are they trying to kill me? It's like they're

being controlled. Is that even possible? It was then that he decided to go to the capitol city and

investigate what had happened. He felt like it was his responsibility to go and find out what he could

about this new force, this new entity, that had taken over his country, a force that has deluded the minds

of the good people of Aeran.




22

After a couple hours of riding he stopped to camp for the night along side the road, seeing as

how the Sun would be falling quickly soon and traveling at nighttime was dangerous. Thieves

particularly loved to see people traveling along the road at night. He managed to flatten some grass,

which was easy, seeing as how the grass was dry from the absence of rain. He let Elephant graze off

the dry grasses while he made up the fire. Coincidently he had some left over firewood in his

rucksacks and after about fifteen minutes, smoke started to rise into the sky. Out of the many things he

ever learned, making fire was the one he had the least amount of practice in. He thought that by the

time he had gotten here he would have been more at practice with it, seeing as how he had been

traveling for the past four months. But then again he almost always had a place to stay for the night.

He then sat down by the fire and warmed himself up from the cold nighttime air.

The trees looked like giant, black stalagmites in the middle of the field. The stars burned

intensely in the sky, like millions of eyes looking down upon the earth. Samuel always liked to look up

at the stars. He liked to find the different constellations, like Mensus, the horse, Gensus, the hero, Lio,

the lion, and Ninseta, the ship. It was such a marvel how all those stars got there. It was moments like

this that Samuel started to wonder where he came from. Besides the obvious answer that he came from

his parents, he wondered how man was made? What series of events took place to have caused such a

gift, or curse, to take place on the earth? He had always been taught that Gensa was the one and only

god and creator, however now that he had traveled more and experienced the beliefs of other nations he

started to wonder... what if all the gods and goddesses of the world were all the same god with different

names. And those who believe in many gods are also part of the same god, but just each one

representing a different part of what the one god is ruler over. It sounded like an insane idea, especially

to a closed-minded priest (and truthfully, when it comes to religion, what priest isn't closed-minded),

but it was a plausible idea at the very least. It would probably explain a lot. He wasn't quite sure what,




23

but he knew that it'd probably explain something.

Samuel then heard a noise. There was something in the tall grasses a couple yards off. He

pulled out a machete that he picked up in Aztar. He leaped from his spot on the grass, weapon in hand.

The sound came closer and grew louder. “Whoever you are, I've got a weapon,” Samuel called out.

Whatever it was, it didn't seem to want to heed his warning.

Samuel could see it now, as it poked its head from the wall of thick grass. It was a black dog

with a long neck. It looked like a jackal, but there was one distinct feature that made it stand out... it

had large, white wings sprouting from its back. Around its paws was golden colored fur. It peered up

at Samuel, emotionless. Then it paced a little closer and opened its mouth.

“Well, what are you going to do with that? Clean your teeth?” asked the dog, taking note of the

machete in his hand.

And with that utterance of language, Samuel dropped the sword as he fell backwards from

shock. A dog speaking? Was that possible, or was this all a dream, some sort of twisted, random

dream?

Then the dog got closer and cocked its head. It noticed the circular mark on its arm. She had

heard of stories about the prophesied boy, whom was said to have that very mark upon them. Yet she

was skeptical. Was this the boy? The times seemed to be right, the stars were in alignment, one might

say. But still, one could never be too careful.

Dawna inched closer to him. “Well?” she asked. “Can you speak? Of course you can, you just

threatened me a moment ago. What is it? Never seen a talking dog?”

“Who are you?” asked Samuel, nervously.

“My name's Dawna” she said. Dawna came around and sat by the fire. “So your name is?”

“My name is Samuel.”




24

“Glade to have met you. I don't know what I would've done if I've never met the great

Samuel.”

Samuel was a bit taken aback by that comment. She was obviously a smart ass, and very well

at being one at that. He didn't know what to say, he never met a talking dog before. He had read about

them only in school. They were originally from Rune-shta-mata and migrated to Aeran eventually, but

lived sparingly in the countryside, making them a very rare creature to come across in Aeran and very

common in Rune-shta-mata.

So since he didn't know exactly what to say, his vocal cords suddenly burst out, “What are you

doing here?”

Dawna looked up at him, raising her eyebrow, at least that was what he thought it looked like.

Then she calmly replied, with a hint of sarcasm, “Well, it is the grassland after all, where do you expect

a winged dog to be? The streets of the cities? The question here that we're trying to answer is why are

you here?”

He looked at her with a look that said, 'Touché'. “Well, I'm on my way to Decon Cepra.”

Dawna scoffed for a moment. She smiled with glee as she asked, “Why would you want to go

there? It's crowded, noisy, and a bit not nice,”

“Well, there's a new person in control of the government. Her name's Arasjia. She's messing

up the country, turning us into the opposite of what we were. I was almost killed in my hometown for

disagreeing with her. So, I'm going there to investigate.”

There was a pause between them for a moment. Dawna watched the fire intently. She looked

into it as if staring into her future, if that made any sense. She said nothing, but suddenly started to

reminisce on her past.

“I understand why you want to investigate,” she quietly said. “For you see... I used to belong to




25

the King of Aeran, Grenvor. He was a great man with great beliefs. Like the past rulers he stood true

to his beliefs and furthered the country greatly. You know, we have not been in debt for two centuries

that we couldn't pay off because of his family's beliefs on how to run the economy? But then, there

was that day. A foreign lady had raised followers and came preaching all over Aeran about

government. And no matter where she went she would win over the public. Pretty soon, I remember

people at the door of the palace with weapons and Grenvor yelling at me to run away into the woods

with the queen and the two princesses. That was the last I heard from him. The queen and the two

daughters were taken by the others eventually, leaving me all alone.”

This story amazed Samuel. “You were the royal pet?” he asked.

“His favorite, and I was also his closest advisor on policies. Although, not his official advisor,

of course.”

Another long silence stood between them. Samuel was taken by surprise with the fact that

Dawna was King Grenvor's lead pet and part-time advisor to the king of Aeran... the true king of

Aeran. Dawna was pondering over her past. Had she really done all she could to protect the queen and

the princesses? After all, she had lost them, but on the other hand she had given a good fight.

However, was it enough to vindicate her of the crime of abandoning them? Had she really abandoned

them, after all, though? She had been knocked out by one of the attackers, so she was rendered useless.

She even had the scars to prove that she fought for them. One of them on her side, another on her front

right leg. She hoped that somewhere, somehow they were still alive.

“So, where are you headed now?” asked Samuel.

“No place in particular,” she said, plainly. “Where would I go? The government has been

overtaken and nobody will listen to reason. My only place that I can go is Grenel towards the

northeast. They are the closest to us who share our old government, or some version of it at least.”




26

Another silence filled the air. Samuel was thinking of what move he should make next. A

minor conflict was placed in his path just then. And it was in the form of a small winged dog. But

something moved him deeply inside.

“Well, would you like to come along with me?” he asked. “I think that I could use a smart

winged dog on my trip.”

Dawna looked at him. She was trying to read his eyes. Was his integrity true? Or was this

some sort of plan to catch her off her guard and sell her off later to her enemies? It was a tough

decision to make, but in the end she said to him, “I accept. As long as we have one thing clear, I will

not fly you anywhere.”

Samuel smiled and laughed. He agreed and laid back on the grass, looking up at the sky,

starring at the stars once again. Dawna just curled up by the fire and watched the flames a little longer.

She didn't know why she had excepted his offer, maybe it was some desperate attempt to make a friend

in an unfriendly world called 'life'.

She looked over at Samuel. He looked so much more natural now, laying on his side looking at

the stars. He turned he head towards her and said, “I know that this is going to be a hard journey, but

so long as we have help from one another it probably won't be as hard.”

“Hm,” said Dawna not really paying much attention. “Tell me, how was your family? You

know, before they were taken away?”

“How did you know they were taken away?” asked Samuel, suspicious now.

“Honestly, I just guessed. I guess I could just sense that something horrible had happened to

your family as something horrible happened to mine. So how were they?”

Samuel decided to buy that story, for now, at least until he could prove something more sinister.

But he knew that he would never prove a sinister story behind it. Winged dogs were noted not only for




27

their intelligence and magical abilities, but truthfulness as well.

“They were your average family,” he said. “They were friendly, loving, kind, a little annoying,

and crazy, but that's the standard package, I guess, when it comes to families. But I used to have a

sister. A younger one. However one day she just went missing. We never found her afterwards. My

parents were heartbroken, mourning for weeks on end for her. But I guess even the worst of things

pass from our memory.”

“I am so sorry to hear about your sister,” Dawna said, not really much touched but sorry all the

same. “I'm sure that wherever she is, she's watching over you.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I guess we should get some sleep so that we can get started early in the

morning.”

“That we should. Good night.”

“Good night,” he said.

He then turned over and fell asleep instantly. She turned her gaze back towards the fire light,

not feeling very tired at all at the present. If she hadn't ever forced herself she probably wouldn't ever

have slept. But she didn't force herself, not tonight. She didn't know why, but it felt like that

something was supposed to happen, which was apparently a sense that humans didn't have, seeing as

how Samuel fell asleep straight away. But she knew that something was supposed to happen to her.

She stayed awake for at least twenty minutes more, the fire about a quarter less than what it was

when Samuel fell asleep. As she continued to stare into the flames she saw wisps of smoke rise into

air, and in that smoke she saw visions of a battle. But it didn't look like a battle that she had

encountered. Ever since Dawna could remember she had a gift to see things that have not yet come to

pass, but never before had she seen a vision in smoke from a campfire before. It was of a woman and a

boy, possibly in his late teens, early twenties. The boy was carrying a sword, the woman pointed at




28

him with her finger and shot from it what appeared to be a spell. The boy blocked it with his sword

and then... the vision was gone.

Dawna lay there, slightly confused and bewildered at what she had seen, or thought she had

seen at the very least. She immediately tried deciphering what her vision could possibly have meant.

Was the boy her, battling the world around her? Or was it her life battling against fate? Or what if, on

the off chance, that it wasn't about her personally? Was it Aeran fighting against this new force?

Morals fighting against unwanted and unneeded change? Values against corruption? Could it be

simply good fending off evil, even though evil has landed its paw in the doorstep and is quickly

making its way to the throne room? What if, for some reason, it was something to do with Samuel?

After all, he was a special boy, she could tell that. Destined for something, but she couldn't quite figure

out what. Could he, by the off-chance, be the one who would vanquish the new Queen Arasjia? This

was something that she had not yet considered, but something that she deep down inside seemed to

have been contemplating and musing on since she first met him a couple minutes ago. Could he

possibly be the one?

There was an old story that she used to listen to when the king told it to his daughters, of a hero

who would, according to legend, come back when Aeran needed him most. Back in the ancient times,

they say there was a man name Yerntell who fought an evil witch who had enslaved all of Aeran with a

hypnotic spell. The witch's name was never quite known, but some say that she was inspired by the old

goddess, Bastilla, the goddess of magic and sorcery. But in the end Yerntell broke the evil witches

curse and sent her soul in pieces across the world. Then it was said that he was supposed to come back

after he had died to save Aeran again in its time of dire need. If there was such a time, Dawna thought,

it might as well be now.

The moon was high in the sky, signaling the coming of midnight, or sometime close to that. So




29

she laid her head down and rested it on the ground, tucking it beneath her wing and soon she was fast

asleep. But little did she know a presence was with them. Above their heads an eagle colored golden

with a yellow beak and dark yellow eyes circled their camp site. It looked upon Samuel and Dawna,

and started to fly off, towards its mistress to tell her what he had just overheard. But then suddenly...

“TWANG!” An arrow shot from below and pierced into the eagle's heart. The arrow had come from

seemingly nowhere. However, as the eagle feel down out of the sky he swore that he saw a long green-

tinted leg running back into the tall grass, but before he could see anymore he hit the ground, dead

before he even landed.

The grass moved an rustled before something went into the woods, and climbed up a tree,

watching Samuel, waiting for the right chance to move. It eyes, glowing blow, watched the scene from

its tree branch, waiting till the morning broke, then it would hide from sight better. But for now it just

sat and watched ever so silently, waiting till morning.




30

Chapter 3

A N i g h t l y V i s i t o r

Samuel awoke that morning, looking up at the placid sky as a lone cloud passed quietly through

existence. No wind brushed against his skin, which was peculiar to him, for there usually was at the

very least a small puff of wind throughout the region. Elephant stood nearby.

The fire had extinguished itself in the middle of the night, for now there was only a wisp of

smoke gravitating towards the heavens. This phenomenon always confused Samuel. He was always

told that all things were affected by gravity and that everything that went up had to come down. Yet in

the case of smoke it was quite the opposite. It was so free from the laws of nature. Up is its down, it is

formless, yet neither gas or water. A pure, unsolvable, and formless nothing. The wood was partially

burnt, and undoubtedly hot. A pile of undisturbed ashes laid on the ground.

It was at that moment that Samuel realized, due to the morning dew, that he was soaking wet.

He quickly got up. Dawna was sitting out in the grass a couple feet away, gazing out into a distant

nothingness. Samuel gathered his rucksack up, grabbed Elephant's reigns and walked over to her.

He stood next to Dawna and nudged her. She looked up at him and moved her gaze back to the

direction she had been looking at earlier. She was looking in the direction of Decon Cepra. Samuel

knew that by nightfall they'd be there, walking among the streets and heading towards their possible

doom.

“What are you looked at, exactly?” asked Samuel, half wondering, half wanting to make

conversation.




31

“Nothing,” said Dawna, “just staring into the distance for no reason.”

Samuel looked at her again. She glanced up at him. They seemed to see the same message

being conveyed in each other's eyes. “It's time to get going,” it said, and they both knew that if they

wanted to get there by nightfall, they'd better heed to their eyes' suggestion. So they quietly packed up

their things. Samuel mounted Elephant. He asked Dawna if she would like to ride behind him. But she

preferred to walk.

It wasn't a particularly fun journey. A lot of grass, a couple boulders along the way, lots of

trees, and the occasional squirrel, which Dawna had to use every muscle in her to avoid chasing. (She

found it disgracing to all canine kind to participate in such lowly and expected actions as chasing

squirrels for fun or playing fetch. Of all the things to hate in the world around her, the game of fetch

was a large one. It even outranked the squirrel thing. If you really thought about, what was the point

of fetch anyway? The way Dawna saw it, it was just a way for the owner to get rid of the dog for a

while, keeping the dog occupied whilst they talked about human affairs.

Samuel noticed something about the landscape as they passed. Something about the hills and

slopes of Aeran was different. Something was out of place, just not right. It was as if they very sheen

in the grass had disappeared, the light from the Sun, even at this time of day, wasn't as bright. It was if

the greens were duller and the grays just a bit more grayer. The songs of the birds seemed to be just

that much more mournful and that much more few and spaced out. The blues of the sky seemed to be

darker and the weight of the air that much thicker. It was Aeran, yet it wasn't Aeran. If you turned

down the brightness of all the colors of the world, that would be how Aeran looked at the moment: a

sad and depressing landscape with all the joy taken from it. He knew that it really was like that, but it

sure seemed it. After all, how could a world suddenly lose something natural like that. That was the




32

wonder of nature: no matter how horrible things were, nature's beauty would always stay as it was in its

magnificence and splendor, always sending the message that there is a hope for what is just over the

horizon. It sounds funny if one says it out loud in typical conversation, of course. But it was

nevertheless true.

Dawna and Samuel didn't talk for much of the time. Each occasionally thinking of something

to say to the other, opening their mouth, and then closing it without a word uttered out from their vocal

cords. But eventually Samuel's curiosity grew. He had heard stories about a prophesy given to King

Birdseye. He only heard snippets of what the prophesy was about and about the origin of the receiving

of it. He had also heard rumors about what the prophesy had foretold. Some had said that it foretold

the coming of a savior, some said that it was about a time of depression, some said the end of the

world, and then again a select few said that maybe it was all three. However, what always eluded him

was the true account of the prophesy. It was even suggested that it never even happened, but, of

course, he never bought into that reasoning. If it never even happened, then why would it come up in

decent conversation, not that Samuel was exposed to much decent conversation back in Tenhill. *Most

of his source for conversation was with his friends, and once some of his friends hit pubescence, that

was were decent conversation lost all hope.)

So Samuel took advantage of this opportunity, seeing as how Dawna had worked with the

infamous King Birdseye himself.

“Dawna,” he said, to which was responded with a 'Hm?' from Dawna. “I was wondering, what

do you know about that prophesy that people have been talking about?”

Now of course Dawna knew all about it, the origin, the contents, and heaven forbid the

aftermath (but then again, heaven couldn't forbid it anyway, seeing as how the events were unfolding in

front of her like a children's pop-up book), however something stopped her from answering. It was




33

something about the way he said it, she guessed that had asked her vocal cords to involuntarily freeze

up and cease to operate correctly.

Instead she said, quite unconsciously. “Oh, look! I thought I saw a squirrel!”

This, of course, baffled Samuel, seeing as how he didn't see a squirrel, or a tree to which would

give the said squirrel a home in sight. He could tell that she was trying to hide something from him.

Something that she didn't want him to hear. Maybe out of fear?

“Come on,” he pleaded, “can't you just tell me?”

Again Dawna felt the sensation... however this time logic stepped in. If she told him some of

the information, not all of it, but some of it, maybe that would be sufficient to satisfy his craving of

knowledge. (She still had not yet decided whether his obvious thirst for knowledge was an asset or a

liability of the worst of kinds. Maybe it was more of a tax, a mixture of good and bad.)

She took a slight breath and proceeded.

“Alright. I'll tell you. Where would you like me to start?”

“Well,” said Samuel, thinking that this was an odd question to ask, “from the beginning. How

did King Birdseye receive it? Well first of all, was there even a prophesy?”

“Of course there was, or we wouldn't be having this conversation now, would we?”

This seemed logical to him in hindsight.

Dawna took another pause. Why was this so hard for her to do, she wondered quietly.

“Well, first off, have you learned about the Nearonions?”

“Yeah, the mer-people?”

“No, they are not mer-people. Mer-people are the most vile and corrupt creatures of the seas

with a human mind! Their slimy, ugly, and only think for themselves. No, Nearonions are nice and

generous, although they are very tricky and playful. They live blissfully outside of their work life, as if




36

“Did you by any chance account for the time that you left Tenhill?” asked Dawna.

Samuel just realized that he didn't account for that. His face felt red with embarrassment.

Dawna seemed to sense it.

She sighed and then said, “Well, we might as well make camp here for the night.”

“Might as well.”

So Samuel and Dawna stopped and, with the remaining firewood that Samuel had left in his

rucksacks, started to build a fire. Samuel took about ten minutes to get the fire started, and was pleased

with himself that he had gotten that much better at making fires. Once that was done they laid by the

fire's warmth and slowly drifted off to sleep.

A couple of hours passed, Samuel was asleep and Dawna had her head tucked under her wing.

The only sounds around were the slight cracking of the fire and the chirping of the crickets. Nothing

lurked in the grass surrounding. Or so they thought.

While Samuel and Dawna slept the sound of rustling in the grass became apparent. Something

moved quickly, as if running quite noisily towards its target. Samuel became suddenly alert of the

noise and turned his head just in time to see what was coming towards him. It was a tiny green man

with brown patch-work clothes on with a stocking cap on his head. His face for sharp, his eyes were

black like coal, and his nose was large and bulbous. His ears were pointy and hairy and he had sharp

teeth, the lower canines overhanging his upper lip.

It was a hobgoblin.

He was holding a club in his hands and was running towards them. Samuel patted his hand

around for his machete, finding it nowhere in reach. As it came forward wielding the weapon Dawna

woke as well. She screamed as the hobgoblin stood over Samuel and lifted the club over his head. Just




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then Samuel's life flashed before his eyes.

His younger years as a child... his first day of school.... his first date... his first kiss.... Just then

an arrow sprouted from the creature's chest. The hobgoblin then dropped its weapon and fell to the

ground... dead as a doornail.

Both of them were still in shock. They stood, staring at the stone cold carcass. Samuel had

never seen a dead person before, even if that person was a hobgoblin. It oddly didn't phase him much.

At least, not as much as he thought that it would. He felt no sorrow, no remorse for the passing of this

creature. Although, to be completely fair, the creature was going to kill him. So that could be what

negated the feeling. Buy how the hobgoblin came to die he was still trying to figure out.

Then the creature started to shake. Dawna moved forward in a defensive fashion. The

hobgoblin's skin seemed to start to turn hard. It's clothes followed. Soon the entire carcass was a solid

stone. Samuel inched forward and removed the arrow, lodged in the stone hobgoblin. As soon as he

removed it the stone statue crumbled at his feet into a series of smaller pebbles. Samuel threw the

arrow into the grass. They looked around, listening carefully for any other sounds.

Suddenly they heard a rustling in the grasses nearby. Dawna's ears perked up. She crept

forward. Samuel had out his machete. He looked keenly into the darkness, trying to pick out

something. He heard the rustling sound again. It was coming from his right. He didn't know why,

maybe it was a hidden instinct, but he ran towards the sound as fast as his legs could carry him.

He heard Dawna calling for him to come back, but he ignored her. He saw something ahead of

him, it was faintly green, and had a humanoid body, from what he could make of it, it was that of a

female. She was quick and agile as she hopped towards the tree line in the distance. Samuel ran after

her until she jumped into the trees. It was then that he stopped chasing after her and returned back to

the camp.




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Once back, Dawna exclaimed, “What the hell where you thinking? As far as you know, that

could have been another hobgoblin trying to lure you away to kill you!”

“It wasn't though,” he said back. “It was... it was....” he stuttered out of annoyance from the

inability to answer correctly. “I don't know what it was! But whatever it was, it was a woman.”

“A woman? How are you so sure?” asked Dawna.

“Because men don't usually have really skinny bodies like she did,” he said. “She was also a

little green.”

“Green?” she wondered aloud. “Hm... that's odd. Well, we better get back to sleep. He have to

get to Decon Cepra tomorrow.”

“Agreed,” said Samuel.

Dawna fell asleep right away. However Samuel was awake, thinking about that girl, that oddly

colored girl. Who was she? Where did she come from? Why did she save them from the hobgoblin?

He couldn't think of an answer to any of these questions. It was getting late though. He didn't have the

energy to ponder over such things at the moment. But just as he thought that he was going to fall

asleep, a question came into his mind, 'what were they going to do when they got to Decon Cepra?' At

the moment, he didn't know. But he would dwell on it in the morning. So he fell asleep without

further delay.

As he lay there, dormant, the lady whom he was chasing stared at the small traveling party in

the distance. She knew that she could've revealed herself to them at that moment, but she was given

specific instructions to stay hidden and guide them to the resistance. She had been following him in

secret ever since she overheard his dilemma in Tenhill. So she followed him, making sure that he got

to Decon Cepra, all while protecting him against agents of the Generation. Oddly, there haven't been

many around, which made her feel uneasy. Something was up. She just didn't know what. At the




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moment she couldn't worry about that. She had somewhere to be. She left, remembering that just

before she ran away she cast a protection spell, leaving them in safety.

She leaped through the branches quickly, moving deeper into the forest. She nimbly landed on

each of the branches, not missing one carefully, yet rapidly placed step. She had to make sure that she

was deep into the forest to be sure that nobody would overhear. She knew the perfect spot as well.

Eventually she came upon a clearing. It was a peaceful spot. You could see the stars in the sky

above and the moon cast it's glorious light just right so that everything was revealed. In the middle of

the clearing was a pond with a tiny island in the middle where up sprouted the most beautifully, fragile

of flowers, Remba Blossoms. Leading to the tiny island were slabs of stone forming four paths which

created an 'X' if you looked at it from above. The waters of the pond were crystal clear and as pure as

though it were touched with by a unicorn. She knew that the area was protected my a natural magic

that allowed nobody else to overhear anything said within the space, so this was the perfect spot for her

business.

She stepped across the stones to the middle island. Once there she stopped and knelt. She

carried a pouch on her side which held a pinkish powder. She opened the top of the rucksack and then

took out a pinch of the powder. She started to mutter a spell under her breath in an ancient language

not known to most while waving her hand over the powder. When she was finished she threw it up

into the air, letting it fall as it may. Yet it never hit the ground. It stayed suspended in midair. It

sparkled and glittered in the moonlight magnificently as it floated misshapenly

She then said to it, “Show me General Barten.”

After a moment of waiting, a man appeared in the surface of the powder. He was a lean man,

covered in make-shift armor made from leather. He had blue eyes and short blond hair. His features

were tightly cut and his face was intimidating. He looked straight at her and smiled.




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“Hello, Greenwater.”

“Good evening, General.” she said.

“Do you have your report?” he asked her.

“Of course? What sort of scout would I be if I didn't?” she asked with a smile on her face.

He was amused by the joke, made apparent by the smile he gave in return. “Well,” he said,

“let's hear it. How's the boy? Where is your present location?”

“Well, the boy is find. He's still with the dog. My present location is, other than sitting here

and talking with you, I am about four miles from Decon Cepra. The boy didn't account for the time

that he left Tenhill. I will be there tomorrow.”

“Very well,” he said, although she could tell underneath he was upset, but not enough to make a

fuss over it. “Just be sure to be here tomorrow.”

“Very well, sir. I can feel the power of the resistance growing already. I just have one question

though.”

“Ask away. What's on your mind?” he asked.

She took a pause.

“What if they don't accept our proposition?”

It was his turn to take a pause. He hadn't thought about that. It wasn't something that he had

planned on. He figured that since the boy was so eager to stop Arasjia that he would join instantly.

Then he said, “I don't know. I just don't know. All I can say is to make sure that he accepts and

if he doesn't then, well, we'll have to go on without him. Although we'd probably be better off with

him. So try your best to get him recruited.”

“I will, General. Just one more thing.”

“Yes?”




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“What if he's not the one we're searching for?”

General Barten thought for a moment. This notion also had never occurred to him before either.

What other factors had he not taken into account? The weather and time of day she asked him?

He sighed and said, “Well, we'll just have to hope that he is.”

Oddly, this answer satisfied her. She normally wouldn't accept such a response, however in this

moment she knew that was the best reply that she would attain. So she simply nodded her head in

response. General Barten seemed to understand.

“Just be sure to follow him closely. Get him here as fast as possible. But stay hidden and out

of sight! Travel in disguise if possible. Just don't be seen!”

“I won't be seen, General,” she said. “You can be assured of that.”

“I'll see you tomorrow. That is, if no other interruptions come into play.”

“You can be assured of that as well. Good bye.”

“Good bye.”

The man blended back into the surface of the powder. Greenwater cupped her hands under the

powder as it fell. After she slipped it back into the pouch and sealed it up, she left the pristine clearing

and returned to her spot back at the tree. Nothing seemed to have disturbed them. They were still

sleeping peacefully by the firelight. So Greenwater sat there and kept watch over them. Waiting for

any sign of danger to them all through the night.

The next morning came by silently and swiftly. Dawna awoke before Samuel did. The Sun

wasn't quite up yet, just wading in the endless sea of grass in the distance. Its light casting a brilliant

multi-colored sheet upon the clouds above. Dawna loved to wake up in the morning to watch the

sunrise. It calmed her. Just as it did her parents, and their parents before her, and their parents. Maybe




42

it was just something with winged dogs about the sunrise, kind of like sphinxes and the moon, they

always watch the moon rise and fall.

As she sat there watching, she heard rustling in the grasses. She didn't move her eyes or turn

her head. She was completely still yet completely calm. She heard it again off to her right side.

She calmly said, “Greenwater, I know it's you, you can come out now.”

Greenwater revealed herself from the tall grass. She stood there with her bow over her

shoulders and her arrows in her brown, deerskin quiver. In this light her features were better revealed.

She was viridescent in skin color with purple markings painted onto her face which curved elegantly

down from her temples to around her cheekbones. Her ears were long and pointed backwards. Her

eyes were mossy green and her lips were pale as Caucasian skin. She had strong cheekbones and an

exceptionally tall figure. Her brown hair was long and flowing. The curious thing about it was that it

blended into the skin. The hairline was green like her skin but slowly blended into tree bark brown.

She was a wood nymph.

“How did you know it was me?” Greenwater asked.

“Please,” said Dawna, “if there were anybody who could shoot a hobgoblin without being seen

it would be you. Also, I recognized your arrow feathers. They all look the same, half purple, half

green. So why are you following us?”

“Is it not obvious?” she said. Dawna gave her a glance which suggested that it wasn't as plain

as Greenwater hoped it would be. “General Barten told me to.”

“That's odd. He never told me about that? He sent me out to be sure that Samuel got to town

safely.”

“Apparently he didn't trust you.”

“What reason would he have not to trust me? I was the king's right-hand dog.”




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“He seems to have remembered your checkered past. Or have you forgotten?”

“No, I remember,” said Dawna, a little taken-aback by the comment. How could she bring that

up. Could she really not be that trust worthy because of something that happened thirty years ago? In

a way, she knew that it was a logical and wise choice, however in another way it was a shameful and

dishonest thing to do. At the very least they could have told her that Greenwater was following too, or

maybe they could have sent her instead of Dawna.

“So, do you think you'll be in town by nightfall?” asked Greenwater.

“I believe so. Where should we meet?” asked Dawna.

Greenwater pondered on this for a moment. She hadn't thought of that before. They needed to

meet somewhere where they couldn't be easily overheard. “What about the Red Hen pub?”

“Alright,” said Dawna, realizing that this was probably the best place to meet, seeing as how it

was always packed and noisy with the brambling of drunken men and women. This made it hard for

people to overhear the whispered dealings of the secret variety.

“Good. I'll meet you there. Be sure to be there tonight,” she said, almost on the verge of a

threat.

“I will,” Dawna said, slightly taken aback.

“Alright, I'll see you there,” she said.

She glanced longingly toward the trees and then swiftly, yet quietly, ran towards their

comforting camouflage. Soon she was at the tree line and nimbly, without stopping, she jumped into

the mass of foliage, concealing herself once again.

Dawna returned her focus to the distance, reflecting on her deeds of the past. Just when she

believed the past to be behind her, the past came back to the present once again. Just then Samuel

stirred from his deep slumber. He groaned as he rolled over, his back aching from the hard, cold dirt




44

gound beneath him.

He looked around and saw only grass as far as the eye could see. A typical morning it seemed

nowadays. Dawna was looking out onto the landscape, as she usually does in the mornings. He

wondered why she did this. What was her reason, her inclination to sit there, staring, gazing into the

horizon, as if staring into the past, the future. What was the reason for all of this? But Samuel decided

to leave it be and not push for answers.

He rose from the ground, Dawna not moving an inch. He started to make up breakfast. He got

out a loaf of bread from his rucksack and unsheathed a knife and started to slice two pieces. Once

done, he took the final products, replaced the original loaf of bread back into its proper place, and then

sat next to Dawna as she continued her strict vigilance over the landscape.

He gazed for a moment in the direction of which Dawna was staring towards. He didn't see

anything out of the norm. There was just grasses, weeds, and trees dominating the landscape. What

was so special about this landscape that she just had to stare at for the longest periods of time? He

wondered, but again did not attempt to pressure for answers.

“Bread?” he asked her, offering her an extended hand with a slice of bread.

Dawna looked at it, breaking her steady glance for just that precious moment, and took the

bread into her mouth and started to chew on it. Samuel sat there and nibbled on his piece for a

moment, the silence between them growing sharply.

“We'll be there by nightfall, you know,” Dawna eventually said aloud. “Decon Cepra is just

around those trees to the right. Right over there,” she motioned with her paw. Indeed there was a

small peninsula of trees on the right side.

“Then we better get moving, shouldn't we?” asked Samuel.

“Yes, we better.”




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Hours passed and they had arrived at the section of trees, behind which Decon Cepra was

situated. Samuel's excitement was overwhelming. He had always heard of the glorious city at the

center of Aeran, but had never seen it first hand. It was rumored to have city walls made of pure cast

silver and buildings with dome-tops of pure gold. The people were rumored to always be dressed in

their finest clothes and the bricks on the road themselves embedded with a single gem on each. It was

the city of all cities and the ultimate example of Aeran's power in the world. Samuel could not wait to

experience the city up close and personal.

As they crossed the edge of the trees, however, it seemed it was a completely different city than

what it had been made out to be. It was a dark, cold city. The city walls were indeed made of pure cast

silver, but they had been darkened and lackluster from years of exposure to the elements. The gold-

domed buildings were indeed the same way, and on some buildings they were beginning to rust. This

was, of course, just from a far off view. Samuel did not dare to imagine what the city looked like

within the large, black, cast iron gates which guarded the entrance from unwanted trespassers.

aeran- the taking (part of it)

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