The Knights of Aragon

Chapter 2

I wake once more in my cot, aching and drenched in sweat. My mind swims with mixture of confusion and a slight migraine. I look around my simple, raggedy cottage. Everything looks and smells the same. Except... there's now a bejeweled sword leaning against my small fireplace. A click rings in my head and the events of last night flood my head. "Gods," I groan, "this cannot be happening!"

None of this makes sense. The Mist has never moved the way it did last night. It has always lured in people through illusions and misery. I don't think I've ever heard of it shape-shifting before. And the sword? How did it just transform in front of my very eyes? Magic like this shouldn't exist anymore. I get up from my cot and pathetically crawl my way to the sword. My sword? Mine. The jewels on the hilt cast dancing red lights on my floor and fly all over the four walls of my cottage. I glance down at the blade and run my finger over the inscription. "Whosoever holds this sword is worthy of the land of which they stand," I whisper in awe. It is beyond beautiful. 

A knock from my door disrupts the beautiful moment. I scramble around trying to find a hidden place for my sword. "Valencia?" someone calls out, "Are you in there?" I run to my cot and break one of the weak floorboards. "Uh yeah, I'll be right out!" I yell back. I cover my swords with an old rag as I securely hide it under the boards. I place the rotten wood back in its place and turn back to my door.

I smooth over my hair and clothes as I practically yank the door open. "Elder Yore," I try to say calmly, "pleasure to see you." He gives me a quizzical look but quickly replaces it with his normal plain expression. "I did not see you at the village refuge near the north wall," he says, "I was concerned on whether you were taken by the Mist or not." I tuck the loose red strands behind my ear. I need to lie. Lie. Lie! "I was trampled by the chaos last night," Lies, "I got hit by many people that it must've caused me to faint. I only just got home." I have no idea how I got home last night, actually. Another question for another day.

"Mm, I apologize on behalf of Stormhold Village," he slightly bows, "It was an unforeseeable event that we will investigate as the day goes on." I quickly nod my head. An unforeseeable event, indeed. None of our strongholds were equipped for that blatant attack from the Mist. "The young will gather at the church for the day as the Elders takes inventory of the homes lost. Please make sure to be in attendance." I nod my head once again.

As he turns to go, I say, "Elder Yore, what does this mean for Stormhold? If the Mist is aware and moving, what shall we do?" He hesitates and looks up at the sky. "I think you should step outside and take a look before I answer your question, Valencia." My eyebrows scrunch in confusion, but before I could say anything, he walks away without looking back at me.

I quickly grab my motheaten coat and put it on. I close the door behind as I take in the aftermath of last night's attack. Everything between my house and the south wall was destroyed, as if it was all torched and demolished. The blast must've done this. The rest of the village was intact. My people for the first time in my entire life are... smiling and laughing. Something that should've been normal, seems so foreign and and unnatural to the faces of this village. They're all happy, and I'm not sure why. At least, I wasn't until I begin to feel heat warm my back. I turn around and what I see makes me widen my eyes in unbelief.

The Sun. The brilliant, glorious and unobstructed sun is shining down on us. The Mist is nowhere in sight. It's all gone. And in its place is a huge barrier of trees surrounding Stormhold. I laugh at the wondrous view I see. I've never seen trees as tall as those, with leaves as green as those. The greens, the blues, the whites and browns. I've never seen colors so vibrant in nature before. I can even see the Gate of Stormhold from where I am standing, but that sight takes any sign of a smile away from my face.

The Gate of Stormhold is open. Correction, the gate was blasted open. That's not good. And I'm not the only to make this connection. "The Gate!" I hear someone call out. "The Gate is in shreds," someone else cries out. "How will we protect ourselves?" "We don't know what's out there?" The questions and concerns keep on coming. Right here and now, I realize how much the Mist has been wrong. It might have not been our savior, but it sure did us a favor.