“I can't rest, Grandfather. Edgehill is falling apart.”
Jermyn sighed. “And you're doing all you can, but you've got to take care of yourself.”
“I'm doing all I can and it isn't enough!” Athena cried out. “Managing to kill a couple of birds every day isn't going to save anybody! And we're running out of supplies. This bakery isn't going to last much longer.”
“We'll just make smaller loaves,” Jermyn said, but he sounded defeated.
“I can't let my town fall. It's my home.”
“It's my home too, Athena. I don't like what's happening any more than you, but we're doing everything in our power to push through.”
Athena looked out the window, watching the soldiers knock on doors. “What does the king really want with an army?”
Suddenly there was a sharp knock on the bakery door. Athena rolled her eyes, assuming it was one of the soldiers coming to collect their non-existent surplus. She shoved the door open, ready to tell off the soldier, but there was no soldier on the porch. Instead there was a drunk. The town drunk, Faramond.
“Faramond, what are you-”
Faramond pushed past Athena into the house, forcing himself in.
“Get out!” Athena yelled, tugging on his sleeve, trying to shoo him away. He put a finger to his lips as if telling her to stay quiet.
Athena's heart began to pound. What on earth was he trying to do? She almost called out to her grandfather, but Faramond had stumbled into the nearest chair, now sitting with his head slack against the wall. His eyes were crossed, and he was obviously extremely intoxicated. Athena sighed, walking over to him. She tapped his shoulder, trying to get his attention. “What are you doing here?” she whispered. She repeated her question, more forcefully. Faramond mumbled something unintelligible.
Laguna entered the room, noticing the drunk. Her eyebrows raised. “Why is this fool sitting in my favorite chair?”
“I'm wondering that myself, Grandmother.”
Athena expected her grandmother to yell at the man, to shove him back on the street, but she simply glared at him, turned around, and walked up the stairs. Athena's jaw nearly dropped. If anyone could scare someone into leaving, it was Laguna with her stern, merciless personality.
Faramond was large, at least twice the size of Athena. Even sitting down, he still hulked over her. His dark hair hung in greasy strings around his face, shielding his brown eyes. His goatee was stained with bread crumbs and his breath smelled of alcohol. Faramond was perhaps the biggest mess in Edgehill.
He'd been drunk for as long as Athena could remember. She'd seen him in town before, stumbling around and spouting strange, meaningless words. Athena hadn't ever paid much attention to him. She usually just hurried past him, ignoring his antics. He was someone to be dismissed, never taken seriously.
Yet here Faramond was, sitting in Athena's home, on Laguna's favorite chair, appearing to be half-asleep. He slurred something, but Athena looked at him confusedly. He raised a shaking finger and pointed it at the fireplace.
Go to your own house and make your own fire, Athena thought, but she reluctantly knelt down at the fireplace, turning over the logs.
After the fire had been started, Athena watched it flicker and dance, listening to the crackle of burning wood. It reminded her of the forest. She used to spend summer nights there with Tobin. They'd sit around a fire, telling each other ghost stories and trading tall tales. Those summers seemed like an eternity ago, in a different life. As the years went by and Athena and Tobin got older, life became more and more complicated. Athena longed for the simplicity of childhood where the only care she had was her nightmares. Now life was nothing but a nightmare. Not even the forest could truly calm her down.
Faramond's eyes were now fully closed. He was fast asleep, his snores practically shaking the walls. Athena stared at him, willing him to wake up so he could leave. She didn't want the town alcoholic sitting in her living room any longer than necessary.
“What's the ruckus?” Jermyn said, untying his apron and noticing Faramond's hulking frame. “Do I snore that loud?”
“Do you have any idea what he's doing here?” Athena asked.
Jermyn hung his apron on the kitchen door and tapped Faramond. “He's out cold.”
“Drunk as ever,” Athena agreed.
“I don't recall ever seeing Faramond sober. I doubt he even drinks anything besides whiskey.” “Rum perhaps.” Athena situated herself in front of the fireplace, warming her hands over it. She listened to the rumbles of Faramond's snores and the soft crackling of the fire. Flakes of ashes jumped in the air, snapping.
“Maybe if we just rolled him-”
Athena laughed. “He's not a barrel of food, Grandfather.” “Or we could dump a bucket of water on him.”
“It'd probably help get rid of the awful smell,” Athena said, crinkling her nose at the stench wafting off Faramond.
“How did he get in?” Jermyn asked.
“He just walked in. I couldn't stop him, look how huge he is.” Jermyn nodded. “Perhaps he has something to say.”
Athena stared at her grandfather. He didn't seem particularly concerned that Faramond was here, just like Laguna. “Are you okay with the town drunk in our living room?” Athena asked.
“He's harmless, my dear.”
“Harmless or not, he's insane. What's he doing here when he's got his own bed? Of all the men to be summoned to the castle town, why wasn't he one of them? I'm sure the military could sober him up. He looks healthy enough, besides the liver problems I'm sure he has.”
“He's just as tired as the rest of us,” Jermyn said. “Faramond's trying to help Edgehill too.” Athena eyed her grandfather. “How exactly has he contributed?”
“He's giving his food to others, people on the verge of starvation.”
Faramond stirred in the chair, eyes fluttering open. He shifted around, cleared his throat, and appeared to go right back to sleep.
“So he's a drunk with a heart of gold?”
“I suppose,” Jermyn said. “At least he's a calm drunk. When I used to spend time at the pub, there were some men who'd be violent and volatile. Fights would break out all of the time. I got so used to it, I hardly flinched. Faramond would always just sit in the corner, sleeping with a flask in his hand.”
“I can't even imagine you in a pub, Grandfather.”
Jermyn grinned. “I wasn't always a friendly old baker.” He winked. “Anyway, my dear Athena, I must get to bed. Please listen to Faramond. He may be slightly mad, but he's not a bad man. I'm sure he's here for something very important.”
Athena was confused, but then again, she'd been confused about a lot lately. She simply nodded at her grandfather. “Good night,” she called.
“Good night! And when Faramond is gone, you'd better get some rest. I've seen you yawn at least a dozen times tonight!”
“Yes, Grandfather,” Athena said, watching the fire as she yawned.
Chapter 8
Faramond began to stir again, opening his eyes fully. He cleared his throat and sat upwards, finally looking directly at Athena.
“What are you dong here?” Athena asked tiredly.
“Athena,” Faramond said, scooting forward in the chair. “Promise you'll listen to me.” Athena didn't say anything. She crossed her arms.
“Promise,” Faramond repeated.
“I just want to know what you're doing in my house. It's not very polite you know, making yourself at home without even being invited in.”
“Please, Athena, I need to tell you something.”
“Why didn't you tell me before falling asleep?” Athena stood up. “I don't appreciate alcoholics in my living room. Good night, Faramond.”
“Didn't you listen to your grandfather?” “Excuse me?”
“I believe he told you to listen to what I had to say.” “You were asleep,” Athena said.
Faramond smirked. “I'm a good actor.”
“You weren't acting. I can smell the alcohol on your breath. You were out cold because you're nothing but a lousy drunk.”
“I'm wounded,” Faramond said, putting a hand to his heart. “Laguna never did teach you how to be a lady.”
“Get out, Faramond. I've got enough headaches, and I don't need another one.”
“All right, if you won't listen, then just hear me.” Faramond ran his spidery fingers through his greasy hair. There was dirt encrusted in his overly long fingernails.
Athena had one hand on the door, but she dropped it, noticing the serious look in Faramond's eyes. She sighed and sat down on the floor in front of him. “Talk.”
“You're not just a baker's granddaughter,” Faramond began. He cleared his throat again, drawing a flask out of his coat pocket. “It's water,” he said before Athena could make any remark. After taking a few sips, he put the flask away and spoke. “You are someone far more special than a baker's grandchild. Someone far more important. A chosen one.”
Athena wanted to laugh, but Faramond still looked completely serious. He didn't so much as smile.
“You were chosen to protect Galbar from the evil spreading throughout the land. The Guardian of the Kingdom. After you were chosen, your parents went into hiding to keep you safe until the time came for you to rise and defend the kingdom. They traveled out of Edgehill, concealing you, but somehow they were discovered. Mercenaries followed them, sent to murder the three of you. Your parents tried to flee, but it was too late; they were caught and killed. Yet, it was not your fate to die by a mercenary's sword. As if by some miracle, you survived without so much as a scratch. A friend of your parents happened to be traveling on the same road at the time of the attack, and they saved you, fighting off the mercenaries to take you to your grandparents where you could remain in safety. Everybody else who knew your parents assumed you were dead, not realizing you'd been taken to your grandparents”
“Wait,” Athena said, stopping Faramond, “Everyone knows I'm Jermyn and Laguna's granddaughter.”
“Not your parent's friends.”
“I've never met any friends of my parents.”
Faramond smiled knowingly. “Exactly. Jermyn and Laguna have kept you a secret from the past. They've had to, otherwise someone would try to kill you again.”
Athena could hardly believe anything Faramond was saying. It sounded like a made-up story, hardly anything more than a fairytale. A fairytale where she was the hero. It didn't help that Faramond still looked so drunk. His words were clear, not the slurred speech of someone intoxicated, but his appearance was mangy and greasy. He did not look like someone to be taken seriously.
“My parents died in a flood,” Athena said. “No, Athena, they died trying to save you.”
“They died in a flood,” Athena repeated. “The great flood of Galbar, where thousands of people perished.”
“There was no great flood,” Faramond said.
“Yes there was,” Athena insisted, though she had a sinking feeling. If her grandparents were keeping secrets now, they may have been lying for years. Athena didn't want to believe that. If she couldn't trust her own family, who could she trust?
“Your parents died a bloody, brutal death. There was no mercy, not one shred.”
A tear fell from Athena's eye. No. “No, that's not how they died,” she said weakly. “They were tortured and murdered, Athena.”
“Stop it.”
“For your sake. The guardian's sake.”
“I'm not a guardian of anything,” Athena yelled. “I'm just a girl! A scared, weak, girl!” “You're strong,” Faramond said. “The strongest person I know.”
“Why does everybody say that?!” Athena cried. “I'm not strong. I'm falling apart right in front of you.”
“We all fall apart sometimes,” Faramond said softly. “It's part of being human.”
“How can I believe a word you say, Faramond? How do I know you're not manipulating me? How can I possibly trust you?”
“I've been watching over you, Athena, to see that nothing bad ever happened to you. I had to pretend to be a drunk in order to protect you”
“I don't believe that!” Athena shouted. “I've seen you around Edgehill for years. Don't try to tell me that it was all an act. Don't try to tell me that you're actually sober. I'm not a fool.”
“I'm not a drunk,” Faramond said, voice remaining calm. “I'm much healthier than I appear to be.”
“That's a lie.”
“Athena, please. I've been keeping you safe all of these years. I'm not your enemy, I'm your friend.”
“You're not my friend.” Athena walked over to the door. “Get out of my house, Faramond.” “Please,” Faramond said again. “Listen to me, Athena. I know it's hard to believe. I don't expect it to be easy for you, but you've got to listen.”
Athena was shaking. “You expect me to believe that I was destined to save the kingdom? Do I look like a hero, Faramond?”
“You do.”
Athena closed her eyes, angry and confused. More terrified than ever before. “I'm no hero.” “You will be.”
“I don't believe you.”
“You will believe me Athena, someday.”
Athena shook her head. “No, you're mad Faramond. Absolutely mad.” “Ask me anything, Athena. I have answers.”
“Why were my parents murdered?”
“King Landgrave wanted your family dead so that you could never become the guardian. He ordered your murders.”
“King Landgrave is a good man,” Athena said.
“He was once, but he was corrupted. Power can corrupt even the best men.”
“So you're telling me he thought I was a threat to his power?”
Faramond nodded. “The king has developed an insatiable thirst for power. It clouds his judgment, and twists him into committing evil acts.”
“How can I believe that King Landgrave is evil? He's done nothing but good for this kingdom. I don't see how he could be a murderer.”
“Landgrave is misguided, vulnerable, easily manipulated. He's a puppet to the Shadow. No, he's a slave. He's given up himself to it. The Shadow is the true evil.” “So this shadow is spreading?”
“The rumors are true,” Faramond answered. “The Shadow is blanketing Galbar in pure evil. All because of the king.”
“You speak as if the shadow is a person. Is it some kind of being?”
“It can take whatever form it chooses. All I know for certain is that it is nothing but evil. Perhaps the evilest being in this world. Even the rottenest kings would cower in fear.”
“But Landgrave isn't cowering,” Athena said. “He's sold his soul,” Faramond replied.
Athena sat down, nearly collapsing. She felt faint, tremendously exhausted. She was overcome with a flood of emotions that she didn't know how to process. All Athena wanted now was to run. If she was the guardian of the kingdom, then the forest was her guardian. It was her protector. But Athena still wondered how much longer that could last. How much longer would her precious forest be a place of solitude?
“I'm sorry Athena. I know how hard this must be.”
“You have no idea,” Athena said through gritted teeth. Tears were falling from her eyes. She wanted to believe that Faramond was no more than a drunken idiot, a fool. But she knew in her heart he spoke the truth. He was not keeping secrets.
The truth stung greater than any secret. The truth felt worse than all of the nightmares Athena had ever endured. The truth was crippling.
“I am so sorry.” Faramond reached out, trying to put a comforting hand on Athena's shoulder. She slapped his hand away, refusing to look at him. She was sobbing. She wanted to go to the forest and never come back. Someone else could save the kingdom. Someone else could play the hero.
“Why me?” Athena's voice was tiny, broken. “Why am I the chosen one?”
“I don't know,” Faramond answered honestly. “But we're all
destined for something. Your destiny is to be the Guardian of the Kingdom.”
“I don't want to be a guardian.”
“The burden is great, but I believe in you, Athena.” “You don't even know me,” Athena spat.
Faramond didn't say anything for a moment, looking in the direction of the fire. It was still crackling quietly in the background, going on as if nothing had changed. As if all was right in the world.
“I'm sorry,” Faramond said finally. He stood up, walking towards the door. He stood over
Athena, looking directly at her. “Will you listen to one last thing?” Athena nodded slowly, though she didn't want to hear any more. “King Landgrave is raising an army.”
“I know,” Athena whispered.
“Athena, Landgrave isn't raising an army to fight against the evil – he's raising an army to fight for it.”
Faramond's solemn gaze was enough to drive Athena over the edge. Her heart sunk and shattered into a million pieces. Her time as the baker's granddaughter was over. Life as she knew it was over. Everything was changing. Everything was falling apart, and Athena felt like she was dying. The Shadow wasn't even here, and yet she could feel it weaving its way into her own soul. Tormenting her, breaking her, killing her. Her life had been a lie. All these years, and finally she knew the truth.
So she ran away.
Chapter 9
Athena shoved past Faramond, running outside and slamming the door behind her. She didn't wait for him to try and stop her. She couldn't be around him. One more second in that house and she would have collapsed. Her heart was pounding, her body was shaking, and her limbs felt like they would snap from under her at any moment.
It was the middle of the night, and all was silent except for Athena's footsteps tearing through the road. Her feet were bare, and quickly becoming scratched and scraped on the rough dirt and rocks, but she hardly noticed. Nor did Athena notice the bitterly cold night air. Frost dusted the ground and rooftops, and Athena's breath was clearly visible in the air. She shivered as she ran, but it wasn't from the cold, it was from the terror permeating her very soul. The terror was puncturing her heart, trying to kill her right on the spot.
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