Sword of Stars

Chapter Seven. Mother and Mentor.

 “Garek!” Lyndahl Drussden threw her arms around her son the second he opened the door. “I heard a rumour that you were back in the city. You certainly took your time in coming to see your dear old mother.” She broke the hug and took his face in both hands, examining every inch of him as mothers do. Her deep blue eyes scanned heartily to see if her baby boy was okay.

“Mother…” Garek squirmed out of her grip and managed to dodge around and into the house.

It was still the same as he remembered. The stone floor had green carpets lined with gold trim that ran from the entrance and up the flight of wooden stairs that greeted visitors as they entered. Simple chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, bathing the house in a warm flickering glow. The entrance hall walls were cover in paintings, mostly ones of the Drussden families. Some were of ancestors in battle while others were them doing mundane things like farming or eating. One had the Drussden family crest on it, a sword piercing the Star. Garek laughed out loud at seeing it again given the current situation. He had almost forgotten about the unique crest.

“Master Garek!” Garek turned to see his mother’s butler Jatham walking down the flight of stairs. What was left of his white hair was combed back making the bald patch on his head stand out. The old man had been serving the Drussden house for most of his life it seemed. He took Garek’s hand and shook heartily.

“How are you Jatham? Mother hasn’t driven you insane yet?” Garek jested.

“Oh, no, no of course not,” his jowls wobbled as he shook his head. “I’ll be here for a few more years to come.”

Lyndahl chuckled and touched his arm. “Jatham, would you please make us some tea? We’ll be in the dining room.”

He assured them he would and made his way to the kitchen with a straight backed gait. Lyndahl took Garek’s arm and lead him to the dining room. They went under the large arch that was the entrance of the dining area which held another door that lead off to the kitchen area. Lyndahl took a seat in one of the big polished oak chairs as Garek made his way over to the wet windows. He looked out and could see the castle rising up in-between the trees in the backyard. He could see the black sea birds flying beyond the castles spires. The subtle sea salt smell mixed with rain forced nostalgia to boil up. Garek sighed audibly. He greatly missed the old days and felt a pang of regret for not standing up to all the people who bullied him out of Andrill. 

“What’s wrong my dear?” His mother’s eyes showed concern.

Garek turned with his hand on the pommel of the Sword of Prophecy. “Mother, Queen Izibethell has asked me personally to go on a mission.”

His hand on the sword drew her eye to it. “That’s a rather fancy sword for a mercenary, isn’t it Garek?” She said with a mocking grin.

“The Queen calls it the Sword of Prophecy, do you know why?” Lyndahl’s hair waved as her head moved from side to side in denial. “Because when I first touched it I saw the end of the world. No. The end of everything. What I saw… is beyond my understanding and comprehension. The Queen commanded me to go to the Casters. They may have answers.” He looked his mother dead in the eye. “I hope…”

Lyndahl stood up and began pacing, hands together and fingers to red lips.

Garek remembered Ahallan. “We were attacked by beasts made of shadow. Ahallan was hurt badly. The castles Casters are taking care of him.”

Lyndahl stopped pacing and looked up at Garek. “Oh, not Ahallan…”

“Yeah…” Was all Garek could say.

Jatham entered the room with the tea, the sweet smell of vanilla wafted in after him. Garek smiled as he took the white tea cup off the steel tray. He raised his cup as his mother did.