[First and Second Round Qualifier in ONC 2021; Second Round Ambassador Pick in ONC 2021; Second Round Qualifier in the Tricolor Triennial Awards 2021; Previously Featured in @adventure's More Fantastical Adventures list]
Cover by @NattKuznetsov
For...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A knock on the door startled the young man from his thoughts. He wrapped the robe closer to himself, hiding his nakedness beneath, and commanded entrance.
The door opened to admit a woman, middle-aged and worn down. She walked towards the young man, a graceful step moving her feet and a smile on her lips.
"Dear Ger, why are you not dressed yet?" She asked, her eyes running over the man's sleep-laden form. "Your father's blessings await."
"I know, your majesty, but as it so happens, I still have an hour and that is time enough for me," the young man answered, his eyes meeting his mother's, a defiant light shining vividly in his eyes.
Her gaze hardened, the gentleness disappearing like a wisp of inconstant smoke. She said, her voice cold and sharp, "Very well then, Gerfar. I shall be in your father's chamber, expecting you in an hour."
Gerfar bowed, streaks of copper-like hair escaping from a mess of a ponytail, and saw his mother off. The door closed with a slam and he thumped back on the bed, carelessly enough that his robes came loose.
Minutes passed, the sun climbing higher and higher up on the sky, as Gerfar, adamant strands obstructing his vision, ran his eyes through the words, pushing the escaped hair back with one hand and holding the book in another.
As he adjusted his position, a stray beam caught his crusty eyes. Deciding that this was a sign, he abandoned the bed, and stood up.
He traipsed his way to a wooden shelf, where books lay neatly, stacked one beside another, put the book in a corner, and made his way to another door, one which led to the bathing chamber, tightening the straps of his robe as he went.
* * *
A squirrel ran up a tree, quite oblivious to the eyes that followed it, and set its clawed feet on a branch, observing the magnificent castle with its beady eyes. The castle in question was humongous, bedecked with sprawling greenery and entrenched with waterbeds round the four corners. A wall surrounded the entirety of the commanding building, a protection against foreign attacks, one which the common citizen of Lanferlow were denied. But the squirrel, ignorant to all this, searched for food, stopping every now and then, perking up its ears for the tell-tale sounds of an approaching predator. None came and it busied itself in its pursuit, when quite abruptly it dropped, like a fallen statue, an arrow jutting out of its furry body.
A girl, young and lithe, appeared out of the bushes, her steps hushed, and picked up the animal by its tail, no remorse or pity in her eyes. She pulled out the arrow and wiped the bloody weapon upon a rag, before depositing it in a quiver hanging at her waist. The squirrel hung from her hand, limp and lifeless, as the girl retreated, back where she had come from.
Behind the bushes, a boy awaited her return. The girl smiled at him, a fond little curl of her chapped lips, and deposited the animal in a sack the boy was holding. The squirrel landed with a squash among other lifeless brethren.
