Rat's Short Stories

Among The Ferns

BEFORE YOU READ:
Please note that I have not really written anything in a good 4 years or so, and that this was just for fun. So needless to say, it'll be messy. This is copy/pasted from Google docs, and none of the italics transferred over and I do not feel like going through this again to put them in lmao so just use your imagination or something.

Also please note that all of the character names have meanings. Both very literal and more abstract. I will be posting the list of characters and all of the meanings after this in case you're curious, as well as some notes from me one wtf I was thinking throughout this and answering questions you don't care about.

Enjoy! (Or don't I honestly could not care less, this isn't for you anyhow)

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It woke in a cold, damp place. A room with unforgiving stone walls. Something shouted It's name. One of the walls was made of iron bars, and on the other side was a large, dark puddle that smelled of rust. Something shouted It's name again. On the floor, along the walls were huddled shapes, shivering. Something shouted It's name once more, and with it, the very ground beneath It's feet was shaking.
"It's shaking for us," It said.

"Sir Halen! Did the Elder take you in your sleep?"
The blonde man jolted up, ready for a fight. "Ahh what is it..." he grumbled.
"Very sorry, sir, but the king has called for you."
Halen looked out the window to see that the sun hadn't even fully risen yet.
"I'd suggest you hurry, he seems to be in a mood this morning..."
"And what's set him off today?" He dragged a hand over his face, willing the crust from his eyes.
"I believe someone mentioned the late Queen Mira to him, sir."

He entered the main hall, seeing the king and a few advisors sitting in their rightful spots. There was a bald, mouse-like man standing next to his Majesty. Halen looked at his king, noticing his ever-receding hairline and balding head. He had too much skin, and it didn't seem to fit right. Like he'd recently lost every ounce of fat on his body, and all that was left to show for it was the extra skin, hanging limply from his bird-like bones. It was impossible to tell how old he was based on looks alone, and nobody seemed to know. He had one of the youngest and also somehow most aged face Halen had ever seen. He was holding a goblet of some dark liquid in his left hand. He always seemed to have a cup with him.
"Ah, Sir Halen. So I see you've finally decided to grace us with your presence," mocked the king.
Halen gritted his teeth. "I apologize, Your Majesty. It was entirely my fault, I admit. I must have slept in," he said, looking out the window at the sunrise.
"It matters not how long you've slept. I have a mission for you, and only you. Plus a team of my choosing, of course. Was I wrong to think of you?" He sloshed his cup around angrily.
"No, Sir, I would be honored to accept any mission you have for me, and I will complete it to the best of my abilities."
The king let out a small grunt. A noise that Halen hated. "Right, then. Calvin, bring them forth," said the king (none too kindly) to the man standing at his side.
At Calvin's hand motion, in came 8 soldiers, 3 archers, and a man dressed in hunter's garb. Halen looked them up and down.
"I hope they will do."
Halen looked at them again, and noticed a certain someone standing among them. Casimir, he thought. A great fighter on the battlefield, but a complete fool in every other aspect. He had been the cause of many a shouting match - plus a few impromptu "sparring" matches in the castle. Whether it be from a misplaced shield, leading to an injured toe, or from all the water being "stolen by the fae" on a hunting trip, Casimir was usually the cause.
Casimir noticed him staring, and shot a pleading look towards Halen. Please, brother. Don't make me look a fool in front of our king... the look said. Probably.
Halen shot back a look saying, One wrong move, Cas, and I'll tell all the guards what you've got hiding under your pillow. Casimir understood (probably).
"Yes Sir, they will suffice," he said, turning back to his king. "May I ask what the mission is?"
"Calvin!" He shouted.
The mouse man took his place beside the king again. "You and your party will be in charge of the taking down of Verne and his little band of... thugs."
"Sir? He is quite an elusive man, do we have anywhere to start from? And I'm not so sure that this party in particular is the best option... I think maybe-"
The king scoffed, tucking a greasy strand of white hair back behind his ear. He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "You dare to question my judgment, Halen?" He spat the name out like it was a slur.
"No sir!" he said hastily. "I was only-"
But Calvin interrupted him before he could say much more that he'd regret. He knew this group was probably the worst option, but it wasn't his place to make any remarks. An army might be best, but Verne would be gone before they could ever find him. A small tracking party would be better, but once they'd found him, they would be outnumbered. "We have reason to believe he is somewhere in the eastern part of Waspwood. We will send with you a tracker. Theron. He is rumored to be one of the best. Take no chances, you are to kill Verne on sight, as well as anyone that tries to stop you."
Halen looked over to the tracker, and the tracker waved his fingers back.
"I understand he has been a thorn in your side for years, Sir. It is a great honor to have been chosen by you." Halen bowed. "When do we leave, if I may ask?"
"Within the hour. Best to get there as soon as possible before he has a chance to move again," replied Calvin. "Your horses will be ready and saddled for you, all you need do is pack."
"I'd prefer you leave now and take care of that dreadful man as soon as can be!" Cried the king.
Halen tried not to let his anger show. "Yes, Your Majesty."