Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Heartsnow

The next dawn came gray and bleak, the autumn dew still clinging to the ground. The family had removed their final possessions from the building, and having Gram and Sheila harnessed, they set off on their six day trek for the city. Marcus was silent while they left. His back was straight as he guided the reins, but he had bags under his eyes. For all of his directions to get plenty of sleep, Madeline doubted he really did. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, the lulling motions of the wagon hypnotizing her.

An hour later Madeline was jarred awake by a jerk at her arm. The sun was shining now, and they had passed the town a while back. Sitting up a little groggily, Madeline looked to where her father was pointing.

The expanse of the Great Plains lied before them. With their wagon sitting on the top of a hill, there was really quite a beautiful view. The slightly browned weeds and grasses of the season were marbled across the Plains, and in the distance there was an abandoned cart with a broken wheel. A fine trail wound through the landscape, slightly overgrown from disuse. It spider-webbed at places, leading on to other small farm towns and villages, spread all over Cyster. Halen had seen the Plains before, and sighed still. Urging the two horses on, Marcus started them down the hill. Passing the broken cart Madeline spied a small family of hares staring at them wide eyed as they passed. Making little waves at the cute little creatures, Madeline saw twitch in the landscape. A fox was slinking up to the cart, not seven feet away and creeping closer. Quietly gasping Madeline hopped down from the cart. Reaching down for a stone she cocked her arm back, when the fox stumbled and yelped. The hares, now quite aware as to the fox’s presence, fled in a flurry of kicking feet. Seeing that his prey had eluded him, the fox glared in the direction of the wagon and trotted off. Laughing to herself, Madeline turned back to see Halen tucking his slingshot away.

“Good shot, son.” Marcus said watching the fox scurry away, and Halen grimaced.

“But I didn’t hit it father; my shot sped by its ear.” Halen was very accurate with his sling, and slight failures irked him.

“Well, it sure spooked him, that’s for sure.” Marcus said returning his attention to the road. Madeline dropped her rock and hopped back into the wagon.

A quick click got the horses moving again, and the cart was soon out of sight. The rest of the day went on uneventfully, stopping for lunch when they were tired and watering the horses when they could. When they stopped for camp at a clearing next to some pin-needle trees, stretching the kinks out of their tired legs and backs, Marcus went out into the forest to gather firewood. Madeline was assembling everyone’s bedding materials, and Halen was checking that the wagon was still in good shape.

Yawning, Madeline stretched again when she felt a jab at her side. Whipping around, she saw Halen armed with a stout stick with a mock look of surprise on his face. Glaring, Madeline picked up another stick that was on the ground and lunged at her brother. He deflected it and made a swipe of his own. She parried, and continued to dodge her brother’s attacks.

“I will get you this time, sister!” he said relentlessly poking and swiping with his mock blade.

“You my little brother, will only get tired!” she responded, and shifted her stance to begin her attack. Feigning a slipped footing she moved backwards to draw her brother in. He moved in, grinning and making a statement of his assured victory. Suddenly she slid to the left, cocking her stick to catch Halen’s feet. He tumbled over in a bunch and turned over, to find a shaft of wood an inch from his face.

“Assured victory, great duelist?” Madeline laughed and helped her brother up. “But you were much better that time, you will best me soon, I think.”

“I certainly hope so! Getting beat by your sister is never confidence building!” Halen answered tossing his stick away. He looked around for a moment. “Where is father, Madi? He has been away a while now.”

“I’m sure he will be right back, silly. Now help me finish up setting up camp! I’ve never seen a boy so lazy!”

This only formed another slew of childish insults being slung back and forth between the two, but it kept them occupied until after a great while Marcus did come back. They ate a small supper of dried meat and water, and settled for bed. Sleep came to them quickly. At least, to the children sleep opened its arms.

Marcus left the two children to get the camp ready as he went out to gather firewood. Walking into the slightly wooded area, he could not help his wandering mind. Am I right to do this thing? To leave the place where I spent so much time with her? To take the children away from their home? Hopping over a felled tree from some storm long gone, Marcus located a section of dead wood that was cast aside. Picking up a large section of bark, he gasped at what lay under it.

A little plant, with small, cloud-white blooms scattered over it rested beneath it.
“Heartsnow.” Marcus whispered to himself, sitting next to the plant. A fairly rare plant, they were Roselia’s favorite, and she had them bought specifically in their wedding, and Marcus had placed them…

Getting up from his bed, Marcus checked to see that his children were asleep in their rooms. Halen was sprawled awkwardly and snoring, but fast asleep. Madeline had her covers tucked up under her chin, a slight frown on her face as she slept. Satisfied, Marcus returned to his room to grab a small brown satchel and left the house.

Walking long past the river, past the bushes that bloomed pink in the summer, he arrived a very small hill, surrounded by a short white fence. Stepping in to the marked section, Marcus kneeled before a stone and mound. The stone read, “Here lays Roselia Kreil Brightwill, beautiful mother and blessing to all.” Opening his satchel, Marcus pulled out a group of dried flowers, which once had been covered with blooms of the most shimmering white. Now browned and withered, the plant was placed on the mound with great care.

“Rosie? I brought you your favorite today. I found them in town. Good old farmer Jenkins let me have them for free. You remember him don’t you? He always gives us those nice fruits at harvest and,” beginning to stutter a little with tears continued, “he always said you were the prettiest girl in town. I love you,” he sobbed collapsing onto the dirt of her grave, “but I have to leave you now. I’m going to the city, so I won’t get to see you again, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

After crying for a few more minutes, Marcus left the satchel and flowers and walked back to the house. Falling back onto his bed, he sobbed quietly into his pillow, emotions tearing at his heart like jackals…

Picking the plant from its roots, Marcus wrapped it in a spare piece of cloth he had with him. Tucking the cloth into his shirt he finished gathering wood and started back for the camp. The children, seeing him walk up, pulled him to the camp laughing about duels and sticks and smiling the whole while. He smiled too. Thank you for these beautiful gifts Rosie. He thought as he went back to camp. Thank you so much.

Chapter 3

Chapter 3
Fiery Fodder

The stall for the horses near Madeline’s house was nearly too small for them altogether, but some oats and a few soothing words would always put the two animals in a sound mood. After making sure they would be set for the night Madeline started walking to the house.
After stepping inside she sighed. She indeed was in time for supper, one prepared by her brother, who only knew how to cook two things, pork and chicken. Both meats were either covered with enough prickle-spice to numb the tongue for an hour, or dry as a bone. Tonight it was pork. And by the tangy scent that was being given off by the plates of food on the table, it was a prickle-spice night.
“Your culinary feats will be the end of me, Halen!” She said to her brother, who was shot his tongue out at her.
“I wasn’t thrilled about having to cook either, but at least I didn’t take enough time in town to shoe ten horses! Really, what took you so long Madi?” Having finished getting everything ready to eat, Halen sat down to wait for their father to come home.
“Father asked me to do other things than that, you goblin!” Madeline used the nickname almost every time the two argued. “I had Mr. Deloray set aside a spare harness for the wagon and every person in town had to stop me to say goodbye!” She plumped down in a chair across from him and stared at him. “And what have you been doing today, besides turning meat into wood?” He turned away feigning to have his feelings hurt. “I have been doing quite a many good things, thank you. And I like the way my food tastes! It’s very… constant!”
Madeline managed not to roll her eyes, but did set off to get another pitcher of water. She certainly would need it.
The stream that the village thrived off of wasn’t very wide, but it had never faltered, at least not in Madeline’s life. Water flowing from the faraway Green Mountains on the horizon rushed by not a hundred yards from their home. Swinging her pitcher back and forth grumbling incoherently she reached the riverbank and stopped. Looking up at the sky, she could just barely see the first stars begin to appear. She took a deep breath, enjoying the pleasant air. Tomorrow we’ll be off for the city. I will miss this place. It’s always so peaceful here. Stooping down to get water she looked at her face in the reflection. Aghast she quickly wiped away a smudge under her left ear she had not seen before. How clumsy-minded of me. I was probably walking around all day with that dirt on me! Carefully inspecting now, she caught a flash of purple in her hair. Ogling at the color she pulled the ribbons from her hair. They were all a light blue. Holding the strips over the water they reflected a light blue, true as a mirror. Halen has me so worked up I can’t even see straight!
Stuffing the ribbons in one of her dress’s hidden pockets she started back to the house. Seeing her father just walking into the door, she rushed back, trying her hardest not to spill in the process.
“Father, I bought the things you wanted from town, and Gram and Sheila both are shoed. Mr. Filman offered to give us anything else we might need.” Madeline said putting the pitcher next to her cup.
“Thank you, dear. But I think we have everything ready for the ride, assuming that Halen was productive today?” Marcus said while looking at his son.
“Yes, Father.” Halen replied sitting at the table.
The rest of the family sat down and began their meal. Madeline still found it incomprehensible that men could eat such wicked foods. At least in the city I can eat whatever I want, she thought to herself draining her cup yet again.
They finished eating and prepared for bed early so that they could have plenty of rest. Hugging her father Madeline settled down for bed in her small room. With everything packed in the wagon it seemed twice as large though. And very empty. She frowned to herself, but eventually fell asleep.

Chapter 2

Chapter 2
The Big Move

Time passes. The quaint village a pair of lovers had run away to some time ago had not changed much, with the exception of another farm here, or a new shop on the main road. A now seventeen year old Madeline sits in the home of the town blacksmith, Mr. Filman. Outside in the workshop she could faintly hear the sound of her family’s two horses being re-shoed.
Madeline was dressed in a simple fashion, allowing her the freedom of movement required for her job, being her father’s squire. The other women in town often talked about the girl’s strange interest in weaponry, and the men would joke about her father even having need for such a service. Most knew that it was just an excuse for the father and daughter to spend time in each others’ company. She was a fairly tall girl, and of healthy frame. She had taken to tying thin ribbons in her hair, usually blue or green.
The clatter of cups on a tray announced the entrance of Mrs. Filman from the kitchen. She was a thin speck of a woman, and an obscure mate for such a large man as Ben Filman, but they were both very kind.
“So is it true that your family will really be leaving us, Madeline?” she said while serving the two of them tea. “We so enjoy having you and your brother around, and your father will be surely missed in the town council meetings.”
“Yes, Mrs. Filman. If we were to not move, we would be letting the King’s army down, and besides, think of how enjoyable it will be to have so many people around to get to know.” She thanked the other woman for the tea and sipped it. She really was glad to be going. She enjoyed the town, but she remembered a trip to the city when she was younger, and in her mind she could see all the tall buildings and shops for sweets and dresses and all sorts of things. We had such a nice time. Halen rode his first horse, and father bought me a whole loaf of honeybread, and mother…
Madeline berated herself inwardly. Don’t think about mother, silly. It does you no good, anyways. Mrs. Filman began to recount a story from her younger years concerning a cow breaking a fence and nearly trampling her. Madeline had heard it a dozen times and only half listened. Even having briefly thinking on her mother, she was still rendered a little sad. She finished her tea just as Mr. Filman walked in, untying a sooty apron from his waist.
“Your horses are shoed, Madeline. Does your father need anything else for his trip up to the city?”
“I do not believe so, Mr. Filman,” Madeline replied, “but thank you again.” She only stayed a little longer to say her goodbyes, and took the two horses, Gram and Sheila, onto the road towards her home. If she was lucky she could return for supper.

Chapter One

Chapter One
Thunderheads

“Dinner is ready, children!” Roselia called out the door. It had been eight years today since the couple was happily married. In this time Marcus had joined a band of men who were protectors of the town, for there never seemed to be a shortage of men or women traveling from town to town, making a living through theft.
Forlorn cries for “more time!” and “not yet!” sounded from the other side of the threshold. The cries belonged to the two Brightwill children, Madeline and Halen. Madeline took after her mother; other villagers would rave about how much the two looked alike. She had dark brown hair and green eyes, and skipped wherever she went. Halen was very like his father in appearance with a square face and blonde hair, but his eyes were his mother’s, a vibrant grass green. The two children came running inside chasing each other.
“Momee, momee, raawr!” Halen growled, tugging at his mother’s pale blue skirts.
“Be quiet, goblin!” the slightly too bossy Madeline scolded.
“Madeline, don’t call your brother that.”
“And I’m not a goblin, I’m a troll.” Halen said glaring. Roselia rolled her eyes in exasperation. Her child seemed to take a new form every day.
“You two go wash up now.” she said while pulling a large pot off the fire. “And use soap, both of you!” Dirty as moles, the two set off for the washbasin.
“Now aren’t you a beautiful sight.”
A very broad-shouldered Marcus now stood in the doorway, having just come back from his patrol. This would be almost his seventh year with the force, and in that time he trained with a sword also. He turned out to be quite the prodigy.
Roselia laughed as she looked at herself. Her chestnut hair was haphazardly tied up in a messy bun, and she was fairly dusty from cleaning the house all day and doing the daily chores.
“Momee, you need to wash up too.” A now clean Halen said. Roselia laughed again and tossed a nearby rag at the boy who squealed. She walked over to Marcus and leaned up to give him a kiss when thunder boomed suddenly outside.
“Oh no! My clothes! You three go ahead, the stew is on the table. I’ll be right back.” She rushed out the door of their cozy home to save the laundry from the oncoming storm.
The stew, which gave off delicious odors, was seized upon by the rest of the family most heartily. The two children poked and giggled at each other while the father simply enjoyed sitting down for a while.
The peaceful moment was severed by Roselia’s scream from outside. Both children’s eyes opened wide with fear and Marcus was out of the house in a bolt. The clothes hung not twenty yards from the house. A figure draped in black stooped over a prostrate Roselia.
“You get away from her!” Marcus screamed. The shrouded figure turned its head his direction and then fled. Marcus rushed to his wife’s side. She had a grievous wound on her left side. It was visibly deep.
“Rosie? Roselia?!”
The mother’s eyes were wide with fear, and blood gurgled in her throat. “Marcus? I—“
And she was gone. The first drops of the rain began, but not even a torrent could wash away the tears of the three left behind.

Past and Prologue

The Tale of the Untouchable Law

Long, long ago in the Kingdom of Cyster, there was a good king. He fathered two children, a son and a daughter. However, there had been a disagreement in the family, concerning a magic that the daughter had begun to be caught up in. Nights were spent quarreling instead of resting eyes and minds. During one of these quarrels, the symbol of Cyster, the Crystal Grand Sword, was dislodged accidentally from its mantle over the hearth. The luminescent shaft shattered and the hilt became black.
Feeling fault for the incident, the princess fled the nation. Historians would later condemn the princess for her “evil and treasonous” act. She was exiled, and never heard of again. From that day forward, by decree of the king, no woman was to touch his father’s sword, under punishment of exile.

Prologue

There once was a generous and good-hearted man named Marcus Brightwill. And ever since his days of adolescence, he admired and longed for the lord of the land’s daughter, Roselia. She was a fine woman, much the same age and disposition of Marcus. Having run the gauntlet of her father’s expectations in a man, Marcus began to court Roselia. And they had only eyes for each other.
But another man longed for Roselia. He was Randolph Vankern, the son of a wealthy merchant. He tried to tempt Roselia with riches and fine ornaments of estate, but she felt no love for him.
Marcus and Roselia were later married. Randolph was enraged, but made no act against the pair. Not at that time.
The newly blessed pair moved far away from their hometown, mostly to Roselia’s request. She loved her family, but they tended to smother her. Finally they decided on a town called Landvein, across the Great Plains. It was not a very large town and it gave them the privacy they desired.

Greetings, Readers!

The purpose of this blog is to display my tales and generally any ideas that come into my head, fiction-wise. Right now of course, I am working on Violet Valkyre, a sad story that will end well for the good guys and leave the bad guys probably dead, or bleeding a lot. So look here every once in a while, I'll have chapters up. ^_^ Thanks for the support + stuff.