The Dragon Princess and the Cook

Chapter 5 - Autumn's Passing

The night was restless and wild, strong winds howled past houses and through the empty streets of Glision. Dark rainclouds covered the stars and dimmed the moons' light, covering the lands below in a foreboding darkness. It was an unsettling time for many, especially for those who knew of the audacious attack that the Harrowmen had attempted upon the royals of Vastadia. That wanton pack of goblins and men were freely going about their business, concocting plots and schemes that even the wise could not always predict. They were after Fession, this much was clear. They wished to exact their revenge upon the one who had banished them and his bloodline. Though the Harrowmen had undoubtedly been foiled in this, their first attempt against the king and his daughters, there was no telling just how and when these relentless beings would strike again...
Tren tossed about in his covers and looked out past a gap in the rough canvas curtains that covered the window, gazing out into the deep blackness of what was to be the last night of autumn. He could hear the incessant tapping of the rain, but it was beyond his sight. The boy shuddered as thoughts of the Harrowmen, and all he had faced mere hours before returned to him, and a grim notion crossed his mind; they could be out there... They could be on his doorstep, trying the handle. He'd defied them. Whatever the Harrowmen wanted with Princess Maylan, he had successfully - though hardly intentionally - stopped them dead in their tracks. Would he be their target now? Had his meddling brought an unspeakable doom upon him? Tren sighed heavily and cast the thoughts aside. He was a stranger to them, nothing more. But no matter how many times he told himself that, he could not shake away the growing fear that plagued him. It felt as though that night was never going to end.
Despite this, the hours passed by without consequence, giving way to the welcoming glow of the dawn. A new day had been summoned, banishing the darkness, and replacing it with a majestic crown of light that rested upon the rugged brow of the mountains in the far east.
Gentle streams of sunlight beckoned Tren from the comfort of his bed. With a deep breath, he stepped down onto the wooden floorboards, hoping the aches and pains of the previous day had passed as he slept. The boy had no such luck. Gritting his teeth, he stood up from his bed and shuddered as a sharp pain ran from his foot and all the way up his back. He'd sprained his ankle, no two ways about it. This would make his time at the festival far more trying than he'd hoped...
Taking tentative steps, Tren crept past Talla, who was still fast asleep. The truth was, she never liked to get up until everyone else was wide awake. This would often complicate matters when urgent messages needed to be delivered, but a quick flourish of her beautiful, black wings would typically be enough to silence most protests - it was no secret that she was among the fastest fliers in Glision.
A couple of awkward steps later, Tren found himself by the window. He wiped the fog from the glass panes and grinned as he watched a couple of Bluelarks set off into the clouds. At the very least, it seemed as though the rain had stopped, though there was only one way to know for sure. With a gentle squeak, Tren opened the rickety window and stuck his head out, looking up towards the wispy pink clouds that trailed across the morning skies. He shivered in the brisk air, the sun offered little warmth so early in the day. Thought undoubtedly cold, there was also a rather refreshing tang in the wind that lured the boy. Still grinning, he carefully stepped over the windowsill and out onto the wooden shingles that covered the roof of his home.
It would have been an alarming sight, seeing the boy clamber about the rooftops like some wild creature. But by now, Tren's neighbours were used to his somewhat unusual ways, and though they did not approve of them, they knew better than to question him.
With a final sigh of satisfaction, Tren slumped upon the top of the roof, propping his head against the chimney pot as he settled down and watched the sky.