The Sampler Platter: A Little Bit of Everything

by Susan Skylark

  Paradise of the Lost

  The water lapped ever at the foot as if it had been there always and would so remain, heedless of the fact that its owner would soon have need of it. The man raised his head and looked about him in astonishment, yet ignorant of the water playfully assaulting his left foot, for even to be breathing he thought was truly a miracle after the night they had endured. They had set out what seemed years ago, he the only passenger, the rest a merchant and his crew. All had been well until they met the storm, which was bad enough, but its winds drove them mercilessly into great rocks that gaped like fangs from the mouth of the sea. The ship had cracked in the middle as if she were an egg and every soul aboard was thrown into the sea, clinging helplessly to whatever wreckage of the ship came easily to hand. The storm raged on, heedless of the dire fate of the men in her bitter grasp, until at last her wrath was spent and she sputtered out and allowed the sun to grace the sky. As if in merciful repentance, those awful winds that had been the ruin of the ship saved the lives of those that managed to cling to its wreckage for she drove them to this strange and wonderful shore. Trian was not the only survivor, for five more of the crew, were gazing with equal trepidation and wonder and horror upon this foreign beach but it seemed the rest had been lost to the fathomless deep. Finally, noticing his yet soggy foot, Trian shifted with hopes of standing but froze in disbelief as a spear point appeared just inches from his nose. To survive such a wreck and to be washed ashore like so much debris only to be assaulted by hostile natives just seemed too much to endure in one day but that did not make it any less true.

  He froze and looked to the wielder of the offensive weapon and stared into dark eyes as pitiless and devoid of joy as any raven’s. He then glanced to his fellows and saw them equally surrounded. There were at least a dozen armed men on the beach, each armed with spear, sword, and dagger. The rest of the captives stared in amazement wondering if it were but a hallucination after such a night’s terror but all seemed to be equally surprised so it must be no dream. The stony men held their captives at weapon point until a very elegant woman stepped over the rise of the hill above them and all the soldiers bowed in greatest reverence but did not loosen their grip upon their weapons.

  She glanced around in amused delight at the castaways and spoke in a voice that rang and carried like a pleasant bell, “welcome worthy strangers to this distant shore. Whatever your past life has been, forget it, for it is no more. Many are washed ashore upon this isle but none have ever left nor been rescued. This is a pleasant land and ever shall it now be your home. I call you worthy because none unworthy ever reaches this place, they vanish to the whims of the sea and are heard from no more for the Sea God allows none to come hither who are not worthy in his eyes. You now have a choice before you. That the Sea God has found you worthy of life is obvious but how shall you spend that life? You shall either bow willingly before the altar of the Sea God or die upon it. If you choose to bow before him then you shall join our society and live out your days in peace and prosperity, else you shall be returned to him that brought you safely here. Who will bow before him and live?”

  Trian listened with wonder to this strange vision before him and vaguely mused about who or what this Sea God of hers might be. He felt a spear butt driven ungently into his side and it brought him immediately back to the choice before him. The sailors had prostrated themselves on the sand before the bewitching woman but Trian struggled to his feet for there could be but one choice as far as he was concerned. The man with the spear let him rise but wore an incredulous and viciously amused smile, as if he were a halfwit walking unknowingly into disaster. The Priestess spoke gently to the prostate sailors but managed a half-veiled glare at the insolent fool who dared to stand in her presence. She said, “you have chosen wisely and as such, we shall welcome you among us as brothers! See to their comfort.” At her words, all but two of the guards bowed and motioned for the terrified men to rise and follow after. The sailors did as they were instructed and cast several surprised and reproachful glances in the direction of the standing Trian; one went so far as to laugh scornfully at the determined fool who valued his faith more than his life. Once the sailors and guards were out of sight, the Priestess turned her attention to the insolent castaway saying, “even now I give you another chance at life. I did not speak in jest. Bow before the Sea God and save your life.”

  Trian shook his head sadly and said, “lady I cannot do as you bid for I will not sacrifice my soul to save my life.”

  She smiled sadly, “then perhaps you sacrifice your life and shall also lose your soul. Take him away for such is his decision.”

  She turned suddenly and walked away without a backwards glance and the two remaining guards herded him roughly up the hill towards a great marble building that seemed to perch upon the highest point of the island. The vegetation was thick, colorful, and well tended about the place and the stone flagged paths were immaculately clean. A great arch like an insatiable mouth gaped in the front of the building but they turned off upon a side path and entered a well made but unobtrusive door off to the right. They passed through several courtyards and passageways, each more beautiful than the last, and finally came to a little courtyard where several young men and women waited patiently and upon sighting the guards and their prisoner, jumped to their feet and rushed to take possession of the man. He was stripped of his ruined garments, scrubbed clean, and his beard and head shaved to baldness before being fitted with a loose and airy robe similar in style to that worn by all upon this strange shore though his was of pure white whereas theirs were of varying color and pattern. Finally he was escorted into a walled garden whose only apparent door was opened with an ornate key and then it was locked behind him.

  Trian stared about in wonder and dismay, wondering what his future held; if it were bleak, at least his immediate accommodations did not seem all that oppressive. He found himself in a flagged courtyard with great trees growing up out of well tended beds of the most wonderful flowers and at the back stood a dome upheld by marble pillars with various furnishings beneath its shade for sitting, resting, and dreaming. If it were not so strange it might perhaps have been quite pleasant, but there was a distinct chill in the air that was only felt with the spirit, but was no less pervasive than if an arctic breeze had gusted through this tropical day.

  As Trian was gazing about him, another figure made himself known. A man in his middle years with a lopsided grin and an obvious limp rose from a seat beneath the dome and made his way towards the newcomer. “Welcome to the last days of your life my friend,” laughed the stranger grimly, “at least they shall be pleasant ones. Come sit in the shade, refresh yourself, and we may talk at leisure.” Trian could only nod and follow this strange apparition to the dome and take the crystal goblet of water the man offered as he then motioned for him to sit upon a marble bench where the man seated himself across from his fellow prisoner. Laughed the stranger, “this is perhaps the strangest day of your life I am sure and you are not yet quite believing it I think. You felt yourself lucky to have survived the wreck of your ship only to find your salvation turned to despair as you find yourself here on a brief sojourn before ultimate death.”

  Trian raised his eyebrows at the stranger’s knowledge of his day and the man laughed, “I am no seer but simply know the tale of all those doomed souls who pass through that accursed door. Such was my own tale. I am called Irwin and who are you and what made you mad enough to not bow before their wretched Sea God?”

  Trian said, “I am called Trian and am one of the Brethren and therefore not easily swayed into changing my allegiance, even at the cost of my life.”

  Irwin laughed, “a man of principle at least, if as misguided as each of these fools about their supposed deity. I myself go in for none of that superstitious nonsense but am an avowed skeptic and unbeliever.”

  It was Trian’s turn to smile, “if you have no hard held beliefs why not
bow before their seeming god to save your life?”

  Laughed Irwin, “my unbeliefs are as hard held as your own faith sir and I would no more bow before their fictitious god than I would before your so-called Master. I will not deign to bow before anyone’s god simply to save my life. I may be an unbeliever of the basest sort but I do have my dignity.”

  Trian smiled, “your faith would shame many who claim to trust in the Master my friend. So what exactly is this place, what fate awaits us, and how long have you been held here?”

  Irwin smiled, “I have been here nearly five years and have seen over a hundred men pass through the outer door and then out again, never to be seen again among living men. They have a ritual sacrifice upon certain holy days and whenever their society has a great need, crisis, or important decision before it. I have so far been spared such treatment because of my limp; I am seen as something like damaged goods. They will one day get around to using me but thus far there has ever been a ‘more proper’ victim as it were. Many are washed upon these accursed shores and enough of them have principle enough to end here where we await our own turn upon the altar. By my count, had you not come, I would have met my own end in five days but your miraculous timing has again spared my life. It is not such a bad life as it were, save a bit tedious when there is no one of interest to speak with for they provide us with the best of their food and wine. We are seen as both holy and heretics as it were. Men set apart by their god for his own bloody appetite yet completely outside their religion.”

  Trian nodded taking in all the man said then asked, “what kind of end do we face?”

  Irwin rose and led him to one of the garden walls, which abutted the main bulk of the building and through several fist sized holes they could gaze into the heart of the temple. It was all of white marble and every surface shone like new fallen snow in the sun. A large open space took up the majority of the room but at the front stood a raised dais upon which stood a curiously slanting altar at whose lowest end stood a basin. Irwin spoke with quiet disgust, “at least it is a quick end. They cut off your head and collect your blood in that basin. I have not had the heart or stomach to watch much beyond that. I think it involves some sort of hallucinogenic drug imbibed by most of the worshippers, much beating of the drum and whining of the pipe, and what comes after I do not know nor do I ever wish to.”

  Trian shivered at the thought and followed Irwin back to their seats. Irwin smiled mockingly, “how will your precious Master feel to have you die upon the altar of a false god?”

  Trian smiled thoughtfully, “my life has ever been in his keeping and if this is the fate that awaits me then I am content in my end. It is certainly a stranger end than I had ever dreamt of but certainly there is a purpose in it even if I am not wise enough to understand what that may be. Are we ever allowed out of this genial prison?”

  Irwin laughed, “I suppose the Priestess might allow you to wander about the city on your last day if that is your request though an odder way to spend my last hours I cannot imagine. She always grants a last request within reason.”

  “Why such a skeptic?” asked Trian.

  Irwin smiled, “you will not be able to convert me I think. Many have tried but they have all vanished from the face of the earth while yet I remain. I do not believe because I do not wish to. I am content within myself and with the world as I find it and once I have passed from it, it will not matter any longer whatever I had thought or said or done. You cannot convince me that there is any such thing as a soul. Your Master is as real to me as their Sea God. How can you believe? Especially after all you have endured only to end this way!”

  Trian smiled in return, “I believe because I have felt and seen the Master at work in all creation and within the lives of men. The world cannot be explained otherwise, but I find it precisely as it must be if the Truth were true. I do not fear death because it is a door we all must pass and I know something better and more wondrous than any man can know awaits upon its further side for those who trust the Master.”

  Irwin wore an irksome grin, “and what of heretics like myself and heathens like our captors?”

  Trian said grimly, “you prefer a life without the Master and so shall your eternity be.”

  Irwin scowled, “I do not want eternity but even if it must be endured it is well that it is without the presence of such a creature.”

  Trian said, “everything good and right and beautiful comes from the Master, without Him all that remains is everything terrible and Nothing.”

  Irwin laughed harshly, “fairy tales all but believe if it gives you hope for there is little enough to be found in the reality of this place. Come let us speak of other things for you Brethren are learned in other areas of lore besides theology and I am in great need of a good conversation.”

  So passed three days in idle conversation and quiet thought. Each morning they were scrubbed and shaved clean by the acolytes of the temple and fed the most exquisite food imaginable. They became good friends even with their disagreement over all things spiritual but it was an amiable disagreement and one often teased the other on their lack of faith or reason. Irwin felt he would be quite sad to see this man go but he had seen enough others go likewise that he knew his sorrow would pass swiftly. He wondered if another boatload of victims might arrive soon, they had been somewhat slim of late, or he would soon follow Trian into oblivion.

  On the fourth day the Priestess appeared to speak one last time with their newest victim. Irwin limped away and left the two alone under the dome as she said, “even now will you repent? You can spare yourself death and worse, unending shame, if you will but bow before the Sea God.”

  Trian shook his head firmly, “would that I could lady but I cannot and you must deal with me as you must. I have but one Master and him only shall I serve, in life or death.”

  She smiled sadly, “were it otherwise I think you would have made an admirable addition to our society, perhaps you could even become my consort or a priest of the temple. Can you not abandon your pride and simply bow before the God of the Sea? You need not truly believe, just obey.”

  Trian raised his eyebrows, “are you saying that even you do not believe in this god of yours?”

  She laughed derisively, “those of us in true power know that there is no Sea God but the terror and the myth keep the lesser folk in line! Your death will be meaningless save as a means to cow and terrorize lesser men. Can you still not see?”

  Trian smiled sadly, “even more so I must say I serve but one Master and that I truly believe. I will not lie to save my life any more than I shall bow before an idol to do likewise.”

  She smiled sadly, “it seems all men of integrity and principle die upon the altar and leave only superstition and terror and ignorance to rule the people rather than honor and justice. Alas that it should be so but it must for so we have begun.”

  Trian asked, “could you not begin anew?”

  She laughed derisively, “the leaders of this society do not believe but the common folk are quite fervent in their beliefs and any rebuttal will only result in rebellion and our own blood on the altar. We love our positions and our lives too much for that.”

  Trian sighed, “is your own soul not worth something to you?”

  She laughed scornfully, “I believe no more in the Master than in the Sea God. Enough of this. As you refuse to see reason and shall die tonight I shall grant you one last request if such is reasonable and your desire.”

  He said, “I would like to see this city of yours, if only for curiosity’s sake.”

  She shook her head in amusement, “ever the curious one, even on the brink of death. Very well. A guard shall escort you but you shall speak to no one for no one shall listen should you try to speak. The living do not hear the dead.”

  She summoned an acolyte who ran for a guard and after a surprising conversation, the man bowed and led Trian out into th
e city. There were many strange looks as they wandered about but it was an abbreviated tour for there was not much to see as it was a relatively small community and none would speak to such a personage. Everything was neat and orderly and pleasing to the eye and there seemed an abundance of every type of thing one could want on such an island. But the people were not of a friendly cast to the prisoner or to one another. All had suspicious and mean faces and ever seemed to be calculating how to benefit at another’s expense. Trian was relieved when the guard led him back to the little garden where at least there seemed to be some semblance of peace, if only the peace before a hopeless battle or the calm before the storm.

  Irwin met him curiously upon his return and Trian told of his observations. Then there was an awkward sort of silence as Irwin said, “they will be coming for you soon. For tonight is the appointed night. Even now are you not in the least bit repentant or ready to doubt what you have always believed? For what sort of Being can demand such sacrifice of his servants?”

  Trian smiled sadly, “he demands no more than he was willing to face himself. What is death to a mortal such as myself when the Author of all life was willing to taste of death that I might know life indeed? I only hope you can find such peace ere the end.” The door opened beside them and two guards entered.

  Irwin said, “then may your Master’s peace be with you in this end that you have chosen.”

  Trian smiled, “farewell and I hope this is not an eternal goodbye.”

  Irwin scowled good-naturedly, “think such if it brings you peace!” And then the guards led him away and the door shut loudly behind them, leaving Irwin alone in the gathering dusk with his uneasy heart. The courtyard had never before seemed so dark and lonely as it did at that moment.

  Trian was scrubbed and shaved once more and this time some horribly fragrant ointment was applied liberally to his entire being. He was given a clean, robe-like garment and then he was made to wait patiently until called for. He could hear the drum and the pipe commencing in some wild tune in a distant part of the temple and knew his time upon the earth could not be long. And it was not. The guards returned and the acolytes rose to follow as the prisoner was led forth. They entered the main chamber, which was cast into darkness save for a few torches upon the far walls. The moon was full overhead and a pungent odor filled the air. The room was filled with kneeling people save for the dais at the front and a small aisle down the middle leading to it. The music became even more bizarre and wild as the victim was brought forth. The eyes of the crowd were filled with malicious joy and were dilated and nearly rolling with wild ecstasy, likely the result of some drug.

  Trian was marched to the front and secured to the altar with his head unsupported over the empty basin. The Priestess stood forth and began to chant something quite unintelligible as the music reached its crescendo; a man robed all in white with a great sword appeared and raised his weapon over the victim’s neck and the music throbbed with unbearable intensity. Irwin turned his eyes away for he could not bear to watch any longer. There came the anticipated sound of the sword finding its mark and then the music changed to something triumphant and dark. Irwin was surprised to find himself weeping though he had watched such happen over and over again it had never before touched his heart.

  The ceremony would go on for hours yet and what terrible rites it would yet involve, Irwin did not dare to imagine. But the music and sounds were eerie enough to chill his blood. Then he saw something that both chilled his blood and sent a thrill of hope coursing through his being. Trian stood there in the moonlight, whole and seemingly very much alive and clad as he might have been the fateful day he took ship with a sword at his side, decent clothes, and a full head of hair, complete with beard. Irwin gasped, “is this some delusion or trick or am I living in a ghost story?”

  Trian laughed in the familiar way and said, “I am no fell specter but quite myself though quite beyond mortal suffering. I am no delusion but quite real.”

  Irwin stood and frowned at the apparition, “if you are dead what are you doing here? I thought your folk did not believe in wandering spirits?”

  Trian grinned, “and who says I wander? I am sent as a messenger.”

  “A messenger?” gasped Irwin, “to whom?”

  Trian smiled, “to you of course.”

  Irwin sat down, “but I want no message from beyond! I do not believe in anything beyond this mortal sphere!”

  Trian shook his head, “heed well my words for the Master does not send such tidings lightly and your own doom will soon be upon you.”

  Irwin was aghast, “you came back from the grave to tell me I was going to die? I knew that the minute they locked me in this accursed garden!”

  Trian continued patiently, “that is not my message. The Master asks you to submit yourself to him and carry a message to these wayward and murderous folk.”

  “Me!?” gasped Irwin, “why could you not have spoken such a thing during your brief sojourn among them?”

  Trian said, “they know you and might listen to your words. I was simply an ignorant fool and a heretic.”

  Irwin sighed, “but they may well kill me for my temerity!”

  Trian said, “regardless, they will kill you in twenty days as you have seen so many others die before you, for there shall be no new victims washed upon their shores and the sea will give them dire warnings they cannot ignore; they will demand mercy and answers from their god via your blood.”

  Irwin said, “and what if I refuse your Master’s request?”

  Trian said, “these people have one last chance to turn from their evil and seek the Master or his doom shall come upon them. If you refuse, your soul shall be as lost as ever but they shall have no chance at hearing this last warning and you shall spend all eternity mulling over the fact that you were partially responsible for their fate.”

  Irwin gaped, “but they have brought this upon themselves! What part have I in their doom?”

  Trian said, “the Master asks certain things of each of us in our brief lives, but he has asked you directly. It is one thing to ere in ignorance but quite another to deny such a request. The choice is certainly yours and so are the consequences attendant thereunto, be they good or ill.”

  Irwin went to his knees sobbing, “who am I to speak to these heathens? I am a skeptic, a heretic!”

  Trian smiled sadly, “the Master has asked and he will provide a way if you will but trust him.”

  “Very well,” said Irwin, “what must I tell them?”

  Trian said, “tell them that the true Master of the Sea and all beyond and before, is horrified by their murder of countless of their fellow men and if they do not desist in their evil and turn in humility to Him, utter destruction and judgment is sure to come upon them swiftly.”

  Irwin asked, “do I save myself by delivering your message? Am I yet to die as you have portended?”

  Trian said, “only the Master can save you and for that you must fully trust in him, not merely believe, for even the Evil One believes in the existence of his arch nemesis. He can save your soul but he may not spare your life. Farewell!”

  Suddenly Irwin was alone in the night but his aching heart stirred with a hope and peace he could not quite explain. He paced relentlessly that night and argued with himself and the Master, now demanding, now begging. But ever his heart cried against his mind and all for which he had once stood. Finally he went to his knees and wept in exhausted grief as if he were losing all he had once held dear. He surrendered his life, his soul, everything, but instead of feeling empty and trapped and foolish, he felt truly at peace and a weird sort of joy that refused to completely vanish even when thinking about his looming doom and the unpleasant task ahead. He sighed and wondered why he had not done such a thing sooner and knew it was the same pride that had kept him from bowing before the Sea God. Finally his heart no longer bowed before the altar of his o
wn ego but knelt with wonder and humility and awe before Him who had wrought it and loved it enough to die that it might live.

  He slept long and hard in the midst of the garden where he had collapsed in exhaustion. The acolytes found him and rushed to tell the Priestess. She came curiously to her long held captive and asked, “what has transpired this night? Why did you not sleep in your accustomed place? The sacrifice has never offended you so before.”

  Irwin said in trepidation, “you admit to being as much a skeptic as I once was myself but I have undeniably encountered something that lays all skepticism to rest. Even as you killed a man last night and cavorted in his fresh spilled blood, I saw him walking in this garden and he spoke to me a thing which I am dread to pass on but my very bones shall cry out if I remain silent. Unless you and all your people cease your senseless murder and turn wholeheartedly to the true Master of All, you are doomed for the judgment of the Master shall come swiftly upon you.”

  She laughed, “this is a strange tale but perhaps you were overcome by the fumes of the ritual or with grief for your friend? He was a noble man but nothing more. Nothing shall convince me of his endurance beyond the grave.”

  She smiled in amusement, “but if your bones weep because you cannot proclaim your madness to the world I shall give you that chance. It shall be amusing to see what the people shall say when you speak such to them but know that you cannot be long for this world unless another victim is soon in coming.”

  She laughed and walked away but exchanged a few words with the incredulous guard who had led Trian about the previous day. He roughly escorted Irwin from his enclave and set him in the midst of the town square and announced all should listen to the heretic at the behest of the High Priestess. Irwin told again what he had just said and the reaction ranged from disbelief to open scorn to vast amusement. They would have tossed rotten fruit at him or spit at him had he not been set aside as a sacrificial victim to the Sea God. So it went day after day and yet no one would listen. All laughed, most especially the High Priestess, but their laughter became weaker and more hollow each day as the sea rumbled and fretted and seemed on the verge of madness. The people murmured amongst themselves that this heretic had certainly brought down the wrath of the Sea God upon them rather than heeding that this was truly a warning from the Master that their time was short. Finally, they could stand it no longer and demanded of the Priestess that she appease the Sea God with the blood of this infidel.

  As they led him away as he had seen so many others go, Irwin finally understood how Trian could face such an end with such certainty for he knew it was but the beginning of better things. He had done faithfully that which had been asked and the Master had not failed to lend him wisdom and strength, and here at the end he actually looked forward to what was to come. He lay bound on the altar, the music was wild about him, the crowd was ravenous for his blood, and just as the blade was about to strike, a sound like thunder filled the hall. All went dark save the Being standing tall and terrible in their midst.

  The Master himself had come and all quaked in terror before him. He intoned with a firm but grieved voice, “will any yet come to me? Your doom is upon you but so is salvation at the door!” There was some muffled weeping but soon it was replaced by a roar of unending laughter which grew in volume and intensity until it roared like a wrathful sea and the sea it was, come to wash away the evil which infested that land. The mortal laughter vanished as it was consumed by the inrushing waves and then the unending dark. Irwin found himself alone with the Master in a place fully dark and dreadful save for that glorious presence. Said He, “you at least have been faithful though stubborn until the last child, but come this is not your place for you have finally trusted me. Come.” Irwin’s heart sank in shame and mortification at his words but such feelings were soon lost and forgotten when his eyes looked upon the country that now lay before him. The Master smiled in amusement and said, “welcome home child, now and ever after.”

  The Greylands: Volume II Sample Chapter: The Mistborn:

  The captain laughed, “it seems we are known. “Go not into the Elf Wood,” grated the old man on the village green amidst the wide-eyed children that had gathered to hear his tales. He continued, “strange are the rumors of that country. Those that go in never come out or if they do, they are never the same again. ‘Tis far better to stay at home and mind your own business than risk that cursed place.”

  “But do not fairies and unicorns dwell in the Wood?” piped one small, hopeful girl.

  “Bah,” scowled the old man, “there be all manner of strange folk in that wood and none knows who or what might dwell there. As I said, it is best to leave well enough alone!”

  “But it sounds the perfect place for an adventure,” blurted out a boy a bit older than the girl.

  “Who needs adventure?” groused the old man, “certainly not you. Forget such foolishness. Life is hard enough without going out and looking for trouble!”

  “But I want to see the Unicorn,” said the boy defiantly.

  The old man glanced around cautiously, as if the roan cow tethered on the green might carry tales, before saying, “those are dangerous words boy. Where did you hear such a tale?”

  The boy smiled mischievously, “my old granny tells such tales before the fire each night.”

  The man said quietly, “you would do well to forget such tales or at least not spread them abroad. I would bring this to your father but being the man he is I doubt such tale bearing would be of much avail. But heed well my words lad, there are those in this world that would take such tales amiss and it just might bring unwanted attention upon your family.”

  The boy drew himself up and said, “and why should I fear anyone in the least? Granny says all who follow the Unicorn have nothing to fear from man or beast.”

  The old man smirked, “has your old granny never heard of the Blackguard? They would make short work of you and she, if they heard such prattling on. If you love your lives you will hold your tongues.”

  “But papa is one of the Whiteguard,” squeaked the girl, “he would never let any such thing happen. And granny says we must not remain silent, for everybody should have the chance to hear about the Unicorn.”

  The old man shook his head in exasperation and quickly abandoned his eager young audience, fearing to hear any more of such nonsense. The Unicorn indeed! If that old myth were true the world would certainly be in a better state than it was. If such a benevolent creature ever existed, certainly it was dead and gone centuries ago as the old tale told. Those poor deluded youngsters and their stubborn parents would one day rue their fanatic devotion to such a pathetic cause. Everyone knew the only way to survive in this wretched world was to avoid the wrath of the Dark Prince and his thrice cursed Blackguard. If you had to cling to outdated superstition at least keep quiet about it lest you get the whole village murdered! He hobbled slowly back to his crumbling hovel, muttering the entire way under his breath.

  The small group of children listened in fascination as the boy regaled them with one tale after another about the Unicorn and the Fairywood. The older boys smirked in derision, thinking they knew better and were far wiser than the bold orator before them while the younger children hung on every word as hope stirred within them. The group only broke up when their various mothers called them home for supper. The boy took the little girl’s hand and together they made their way towards home. The children dispersed and there was much excited chatter over the evening meal and many concerned parents thereafter.

  The boy’s father received many aggrieved visitors over the course of the next few days, all quite upset by the tales carried by his son. How could he let the boy carry such dangerous tales? Did he wish them all to suffer the wrath of the Dark Prince and his evil minions? The man only shook his head gravely and said that the boy was free to speak as he felt he must and if they objected they did not have to listen. They sto
rmed away in a fury and muttered together their frustrations behind closed doors and over a mug of ale at the local inn of an evening. The man smiled slightly and hastened to find his troublemaking son. He found the boy busy about the farmyard with various small chores; taking the boy by the shoulder he led him to a quiet place alongside the woodshed and seated themselves on a couple convenient logs.

  “Son,” said he, “you have garnered the wrath of many in this village with your stories.” The boy blanched, fearing some rebuke but the man continued, “that it has caused such an outrage means your stories are having some effect on stony and hardened hearts. I must commend you for your courage in speaking so for I know others have warned you that such tales are quite unpopular of late. I am sorry to say my own enthusiasm for speaking thus has been dampened of late with care and worry, but I think you have the right of it. These great things must be spoken and not hidden from view simply for fear of our lives. Whatever happens for your temerity, I must tell you that I am proud of you and will try and be so bold myself.”

  Amazement stilled the boy’s tongue and was writ large in his eyes and upon his face. The man smiled, clapped the boy on the back, and returned to his own work. The boy shared a parting grin with his father and ran off to tell his mother. His mother and grandmother were busy about the house and listened with amused smiles as the boy told of his encounter with his father. His mother cautioned however, “it is good to share your grandmother’s stories but you must be cautious in who you let overhear you. All must have the chance to hear, but caution is warranted lest you fall into the hands of darkness.”

  The boy’s smile slipped as he said, “but father said all must hear and that caution is not needed. Will not the Unicorn protect us should some danger present itself?”

  His mother smiled gently and said, “certainly you must speak these things. I only say be careful in whom you confide for many will carry tales to your enemies. The Unicorn shall certainly be with His faithful but that does not mean He shall rescue us from every evil and danger that presents itself. Suffering, sorrow, and danger are certainties in this fallen world, my son. The Unicorn has promised not to abandon us forever to such things and has in fact overthrown both evil and death, but that age is yet to come. In this present age we must endure that which we must. That is why I warn you not to court death by being too bold in your proclamations.”

  The boy drew himself up and said, “I will not hide as if I am embarrassed of what I believe. Why does papa hide from everyone?”

  A look of surprise crossed his mother’s face and she said, “what is your father hiding?”

  He sighed, “I know he once rode for the Whiteguard. Why does he now live in obscurity and say nothing of what he once was?”

  His mother smiled weakly and said, “no one is allowed to ride with the Guard who has dependent children. He has retired to raise a family. Once you and your sister are grown, perhaps he shall ride with them again.”

  The boy nodded sagely but said, “then should he not at least be sharing the reasons for which he once rode? Is that not also a duty of the Guard as well as fighting against the minions of the Dark Prince?”

  His mother nodded sadly and said, “your father and I have remained silent for fear that our family might suffer for it. It seems all his old spirit lives again in you. Not that long ago nothing could have stilled his tongue but our old courage is long fled. My heart stirs within me to have kept silent so long and deny our neighbors the chance to hear that which we consider most dear. Forgive me my son, and thank you for rousing again the courage that has waned for so many years. I shall speak to your father about it, but we shall also make plans to defend ourselves or escape should our enemies fall upon us for our renewed boldness.” The boy beamed and ran off to find his little sister and tell her all the news. He found her running swiftly from the surrounding forest with much delight and eagerness.

  She shouted joyfully to her brother, “I have seen one! I have seen one!”

  Winded, she stopped her flight and gasped for breath as Kyan said, “what have you seen Clara?”

  The little girl beamed, “one of the Mistborn of course.”

  He looked at her seriously and asked, “truly?”

  She grinned all the more, “it could have been nothing else! Let us find granny and perhaps she will tell us more of them!”

  In any other child this mysterious sighting might be thought a fancy of the child’s imagination but Clara was not prone to such whimsies. They ran together into the house where granny sat by the fire with her knitting in her lap. The two breathless children stood before her and Clara made her declaration and demanded to know all the old woman had to tell about such creatures.

  The old woman’s eyes sparkled in delight but were wide with surprise as she said, “the Mistborn? Child, are you sure?” Clara glowered at not being believed but nodded succinctly. The old woman nodded sagely and said as the two children sat at her feet, “the Mistborn is it? They are strange and mysterious creatures certainly, perhaps the most mysterious to haunt this world, if they truly walk upon it. Much is rumored about them and almost nothing known. What is true and what is folly I cannot tell. I will tell you that which I consider closest to the truth but even that is hard to believe.”

  She continued, “for all the long ages that the Dark Prince has ruled over the lands of men, he has fought constantly against the Unicorn. You have heard many times the tale of Him that left His beautiful kingdom far from mortal sorrows and became mortal Himself for a time, to right the wrongs of mankind. He came and spoke peace but men heeded Him not and allowed Him to fall into the hands of those who mocked and killed Him. The Dark Prince had thought himself victorious that day but little did he know that he had sealed his own doom, for death could not hold such as He. He rose again to life and by trusting in Him, we also might live. For it was His blood that paid the price demanded of each and every man for all his many crimes against his Maker and his fellow men. The Unicorn then returned to His own country but promised to return one day and finally overthrow the Fell Prince and restore the world to what it should ever have been, save for the folly of man.

  He left his followers to spread the tale of His coming that all might hear and find hope and life anew. The Dark Prince in his wrath, has long hunted down and destroyed anyone found believing such heresy as he sees it, but this is just the latest offensive in a war that has lasted since the Dark Prince himself rebelled against his Master and will last until the end of time, when the Unicorn shall end the rebellion once and for all. Now you know the Dark Prince has many servants, both of men and strange and terrible creatures, but the Maker has His own armies and servants as well.”

  She took a deep breath and continued her story, “you both know of the Whiteguard, of which your father was once a part. It is composed of those men and even a few daring women who ride against the minions of darkness and also spread word of their Master everywhere they go. There are other, more mysterious creatures and people in the world and to whom their allegiance lies, only they and the Unicorn know. Most dwell in the Fairywood but are sometimes seen abroad. Among these are the elves, the Mistborn, and other more mysterious races. A few of the more daring elves have actually left the Wood and have ridden abroad and have even ridden with the Whiteguard at times. These creatures are quite different from men but similar enough in characteristics that we can at least comprehend something of their nature.

  The Mistborn are another thing entirely. They are rumored to frequent the Fairywood but legend holds that they can be seen almost anywhere and at the strangest times. They go about by means unknown, upon errands of which only they know the purpose. They are said to be not quite solid just like their namesake, neither are they thought to be easily slain by mortal blade. Some say they are servants of the Master, while others think them quite their own masters, and still others fear them to be some phantasm of the darkness. T
hey seem to appear most frequently wherever trouble is or is soon to be. Some consider them harbingers of doom while a few whisper that they are actually saviors in a hopeless night. Whatever they are, I would be cautious in my dealings with them my children. Now Clara, tell me what happened when you glimpsed this creature. Did you interact with it at all or simply glimpse it from a distance?”

  Clara beamed in delight and recited her full tale, “I was in the wood a’gathering berries as mama told me when thin tendrils of mist crept out of the low places and gathered round about me. Suddenly it started to glow with a light like the morning sun and a woman appeared in its midst, as if she had been lost in deepest fog and suddenly became visible as the fog thinned. She was the most beautiful creature I have ever seen and it seemed the light came from her. She asked if I would like to go with her. I was silent for fear and awe and then cried out in a fright that I would have to ask my mother and ran with all my might until I came out of the woods. What does it mean granny?”

  Granny looked thoughtful for a moment and said, “I do not know my dear. Perhaps there is some danger coming and she wishes to bear you to safety or perhaps she wishes to spirit you away for her own strange reasons. You must certainly tell your mother.”

  “But what am I to do if she comes again?” asked the girl.

  The old woman shook her head gravely but made no answer. Clara wasted no time in telling both of her parents as they sat over supper. The pair exchanged a concerned look and her mother said, “darling, are you certain you saw such a creature and it was not just weariness playing on an overactive imagination?”

  The girl glowered at such an insult and then sighed in exasperation as she saw plainly that neither of her parents believed her. “Mama,” said she, “what am I to do if she comes again?”

  Her mother smiled slightly and said, “of course you may go with her dear, but you must be home in time for dinner.”

  Clara sighed and finished her food in silence. Granny and Kyan exchanged a concerned look at the disbelief of the others while the skeptics shared a knowing smile. Their daughter was not prone to fits of whimsy but there was no reason she could not suddenly start, especially after all the recent excitement over Kyan’s tales and the complaining of the old man upon the green about such fancies.

  After the meal was cleaned up, Clara said sadly to granny, “they do not believe me!”

  Granny said gently, “grownups sometimes forget the wisdom of childhood, but take heart my dear, for perhaps they will realize their shortsightedness soon enough.”

  Clara sighed again but tried to find solace in her grandmother’s words. Kyan sat quietly by the fire, contemplating his sister’s strange adventure and trying to decide whether he should follow her into the woods on the morrow to see this strange apparition for himself, should it appear. Kyan awoke early and hurried through his morning chores that he might be free in time to follow his sister should she venture again into the woods in search of berries, wraiths, or both. He was both intrigued, terrified, and skeptical that such a creature could truly visit so common a place as the woods about their farm. The Fairywood, where such creatures must certainly be common, lay far to the north while the dominions of the Dark Prince lay far to the south.

  In between lay a vast stretch of land inhabited by men and divided up into many countries each ruled by its own King, but the minions of the Dark Prince rode freely where they would and did as they pleased. They killed, kidnapped, or stole whatever and whomever they wanted. Some of the local lads sometimes volunteered to ride away with the Blackguard in hopes of joining it and gaining for themselves power and wealth beyond the normal means of men of their standing. Besides the human soldiers, it was rumored that there were far more terrible and unnatural creatures that roamed about at the bidding of their dark master. Such a patrol however, had not ridden through this part of the world in a generation and it was hoped that such peace would continue. Many rulers paid tribute to the Dark Prince in both valuables and people that their own lands might be spared such predations by his roving minions. Those nations closest to the south and the least despotic were the most prone to such invasion.

  Clara was sent again into the forest to gather the seasonal fruits with which her mother would make many lovely jams and pies. Her supposed encounter of the previous day had cut short her foraging so her mother was even more anxious to be provided with the first fruits of the season. The girl was eager but also a little afraid to meet the strange woman again in the woods. She clutched her basket, as if it were the only thing protecting her from the strange apparition and boldly made her way again to the place where she had seen the woman. Kyan followed at a distance and kept to the cover of the bushes that lined the path upon which his sister trod. Now and then she would gather a handful of berries but for the most part she spent her time looking about anxiously for some sign of her phantasm. The day was growing old and the normal mist of evening began to creep out of the low places as Clara turned towards home rather disappointed when, there before her the mist began to glow, but this time with the intensity of the moon rather than the new risen sun. Again the woman stood before her though this time she looked more solid than before but also more anxious. She glanced about carefully and seemed to be straining her ears at something beyond mortal hearing before she focused on the child before her.

  Kyan crouched on a slight ridge above the path, well hidden by the verdant spring growth. He was silent in awe as he watched the pair interact. The woman said in a voice sweeter than that of any bird, “will you come away with me child? There is not much time!” Again she seemed to listen to something beyond hearing. She glanced anxiously down the path and finally said, “we must go now else it is too late. Will you come?”

  Clara smiled in trepidation and said, “mama said I could go as long as I was back for supper.”

  The woman said simply, “I fear you shall have no supper to return to. But take my hand now, if you will.”

  The girl thought about this for a moment but suddenly grim determination blazed upon her face as she remembered her parents’ disbelief and she thrust her hand into that of the waiting woman. No sooner had Clara taken the woman’s hand than they both grew very misty and suddenly vanished, as if becoming part of the fog itself. Suddenly the sound of thundering hooves was heard in the distance and a dozen horses galloped through the place where the pair had stood. Kyan froze in terror and his heart clenched to see the black banner and uniforms borne by the party which could mean only one thing: the Dark Prince had not overlooked their small corner of the world forever, as some had foolishly hoped. Once the party was past, Kyan sprang to his feet and ran towards the village with all the speed he possessed. He came in time to see the men dismounting on the green and the soldiers running from door to door and demanding that all present themselves before ‘his Fell Majesty’s honored servants.’ There were many groans and screams of terror as the horrified villagefolk assembled themselves on the green and cowered before their visitors.

  Once all had assembled, their dark captain said, “is this all your folk?” There were some murmured assurances as the captain scanned the crowd and counted his men.

  “Not all my lord,” said a tall boy stepping out of the terrified mass of people.

  The captain eyed him curiously and asked, “and who is missing, my bold young man?”

  The boy smiled maliciously and said, “heretics, my lord. A family of heretics dwells not far from here.”

  “Heretics you say?” smiled the captain darkly, “let us to these heretics and we shall see what comes of them. What is your name lad?”

  The boy bowed deeply and said, “my name is Roan, my lord.”

  The captain said, “well Roan, we shall soon deal with these heretics of yours and if all goes well, perhaps you would be pleased to join my honored company?”

  Roan nodded his pleasure and bowed once more, saying, “if you shall
follow me my lord, I shall show you the dwelling place of our enemies.”

  The captain motioned for the boy to lead on and for the entire village to follow. Most were terrified for the lives of those who had been their friends and neighbors for so many years but no few thought whatever their fate, that it was justly deserved for their behavior of late. It was not long before they stood in a great throng in the farmyard while soldiers, clutching their swords and bearing torches, pounded upon the door of the house. Kyan rushed ahead, hoping to raise the alarm but found several soldiers had mounted their horses and ridden ahead to block escape through the backdoor should such be attempted. Kyan crouched once more in the veiling vegetation, praying desperately that some miracle might deliver them from this nightmare.

  The summons was not answered and the door was broken down. The soldiers forced their way in and two were cut down by Kyan’s father before he was subdued and disarmed, though mortally wounded in the process. His mother and grandmother were caught by the rearguard as they tried to sneak out the backdoor. The dying man and two women were brought before the captain as the entire village looked on. “Such behavior is proof enough of heresy,” snarled the captain, “is this all the family?”

  Roan said grimly, “there are two children, a boy and a girl.”

  The captain growled at the man, “where are your wretched spawn?”

  The man coughed and a trickle of blood dribbled from one side of his mouth, “that you shall never know.”

  The captain sneered, “fear not, we shall find them and then bear them with all speed to our master who shall do with them as he pleases. I am well informed that your entire family is composed of heretics and the penalty for such stupidity is death. Do you deny it?” The three prisoners stared at him grimly but said nothing. The captain smiled terribly and turned to the villagers, “are there any here who would speak in defense of these rebels?” The villagers stared stonily back at the man, none dared to look upon the condemned, save Roan who wore a malicious smile. “Will you even now denounce your heresy if I promise to spare your lives?” asked the captain in his most condescending tone. Again he was met with grim silence. “Very well,” said the captain, “you have condemned yourselves.” Each of the prisoners was bound hand and foot and cast back into the house and the doors and windows barred from without.

  Kyan watched in trembling horror as his father succumbed to his wounds even as he was thrown back into what was once his home. His mother fainted and his grandmother struggled as she would but could not escape her captors. Once all were locked inside the house it was set afire; the villagers watched in silent horror as the flames consumed the house and all within. Kyan felt as if his own heart were afire with guilt, grief, and shame. He watched his entire life disappear in flame and smoke until nothing remained but a smoldering heap of rubble. Content with their night’s work, the soldiers returned to the village to root out any more heretics, to enjoy a night’s carousing, and to see what plunder they could gain for themselves and their masters ere they rode off in the morning.

  Kyan lay in a miserable heap among the bushes and hardly held back his sobs until the last of the soldiers had vanished beyond sight and hearing and then he wept bitterly. He had cried himself out, save for an occasionally sobbing breath when an airy voice from above said, “and what will you do now?” Kyan looked up in alarm to see a magpie sitting upon a branch not a foot from his face. His surprise almost overcame his anguish of heart as he sat up to look more easily at this strange bird.

  “You talk?” said the boy in amazement.

  “Of course,” said the bird, “but you have yet to answer my question.”

  The boy said, “I almost wish to surrender to the soldiers and meet whatever end they will mete out. It would be easier that way.”

  The bird cocked his head and said, “really?”

  The boy stared at the bird in anger at his temerity and said, “how can I go on living when all I love have perished and the Master has failed me?”

  “Has he?” asked the bird.

  The boy growled, “what else would you call it? My sister is spirited away and all my family is dead!”

  “You are alive,” said the bird.

  The boy scowled, “and what use is that when all of me yearns for death?”

  The bird squawked a laugh, “and you think those fiends would give it you? I think not. They would force you into their fell service and there you would die a miserable death, a rebel against your true master, and forever sundered from those you love.”

  The boy sighed, “I suppose you are right but how can you claim that the Maker has not abandoned me?”

  The bird would have smiled if he could, “you are alive, your sister is safe, and your family now beyond mortal suffering and you think yourself abandoned?”

  He looked at the bird curiously, “I suppose if you put it that way. But I thought the Unicorn was to protect us and look after us in all things.”

  The bird laughed, “He does, but that does not mean everything will turn out the way you want it to. All things are accomplished for the good of those that love Him but that does not mean everything in this life will be sunshine and roses. There will be plenty of trials, tribulations, and sorrow but He shall give you strength to bear all things and be with you all the long and weary way. What He considers to be in your best interest may seem appalling to you but in the end it will turn out for the best if you remain true to Him. What about my question?”

  The boy sighed, “you know too much for a bird! I do not know what I shall do. I cannot stay here or the villagers might betray me to curry favor with the soldiers. I think I will head north and perhaps discover if all the legends of the Fairywood are true or not. Failing that, maybe I will try and join up with the Whiteguard. What has become of my sister?”

  The bird said, “your sister is safe and that is all you need to know for the moment. As to your plans, it seems a sensible idea, for now. And who ever said I was a bird?”

  The boy gaped at the bird but before he could speak the creature had taken wing and disappeared into the night dark forest. The boy sat for some time pondering the creature’s words and wondered what this strange apparition might portend. Finally he rose with a sigh and approached the silent farmyard. He carefully skirted the ash heap that had been his home and made for the barn. He saddled their plow horse, gathered what supplies he could for a journey, and silently led the animal out into the night. He reached the cover of the woods before mounting and then sped off as fast as the aging creature could go. The moon was rising and gave light enough to see the path; he traveled long into the night until the moon had fled and the darkness forced him to seek a hiding place where he might rest for the day. He led the creature off the great road upon which he found himself and secreted himself in a little dell surrounded by a dense growth of young trees. He slept most of the morning until he was wakened by the rhythmic trotting of many hooves upon the adjacent highway. He crept close enough to see who it was upon the road without being seen himself and was both satisfied and terrified to see the same soldiers from the previous evening coming along the road behind him.

  He was even more dismayed to see Roan riding proudly among them. He counted eight soldiers and began to wonder where the others had gone when it occurred to him that someone might have noticed the missing horse and raised the alarm and that the missing guards might be out looking for him. “Quite an astute observation,” said the magpie in his ear. Kyan stiffened, thinking the soldiers might overhear but soon relaxed thinking that such a strange creature must certainly know the danger and would not do anything to endanger them both. The bird winked, “another good assumption.”

  The boy stared at the bird, “how is it you can read my thoughts?”

  The bird shrugged and said, “let us just say there is nothing that escapes my notice. But now let us attend to your predicament. You cannot ride ah
ead until you are certain these soldiers are well beyond you yet you cannot go back for fear of scouts and remaining here will be dangerous for the returning scouts will surely search this place for you.”

  “That is quite helpful,” snapped the boy, “as you know, I am well aware of that.”

  The bird cocked his head and stared at the boy hard with one of his beady eyes until the boy flushed crimson and mumbled his apologies. The bird gave a curt nod and said, “you would do well to remember to respect all with whom you have dealings, most especially those who serve the King.” The boy nodded glumly and the bird said, “fear not, but learn well. Now I shall advise you if you have patience to hear me.” He looked questioningly at the boy who nodded eagerly.

  The bird continued, “very well, there is a village well to the east of here that you will reach by nightfall tomorrow if you press hard. Those soldiers are bound thence after stopping at several more villages along the way. I advise that you ride in that direction and give aid to the one you will find there. This personage must not fall into the hands of the Enemy.”

  The boy gasped, “what then am I to do? How can I, a mere boy and refugee myself, give aid to another?”

  The bird eyed him sternly and said, “I would not appoint you a task if there were not some hope of you accomplishing it.”

  The boy again mumbled an apology and said, “then I shall succeed?”

  The bird said, “there are no guarantees this side of eternity lad. I said there was a way, not a certainty of success.”

  The boy looked in trepidation at the bird but nodded firmly, though the creature had vanished the boy was quite certain he had seen his nod and more importantly knew his mind. He waited a few more moments to make certain the way was clear and then withdrew into the copse to collect his horse and scanty supplies. He made his way with much difficulty to the eastern side of the little glen and then rode off down the cart path he found there with as much speed as the animal could maintain over some distance. He pressed the animal and himself, stopping only to water the horse and rest for a short period before pressing on. As the day gave place to night, weariness overcame both man and beast and they crept from the road into another thicket for the night. No sooner had they vanished from the road than the thunder of galloping hooves came quickly down the cart path. Two soldiers dressed in the black of the Dark Prince clattered by, likely searching for the errant boy. The boy settled in for the night and sometime long after full dark the same men passed once more but this time walking their weary horses. Again they passed him by and the boy fell into a deep sleep, only waking with the first glimmerings of dawn in the east.

  He was soon in his saddle and again pressing hard for the unnamed village. As the magpie had said, he arrived just ere nightfall as his horse stumbled in weariness. He hid in the trees surrounding the village and leaving the weary horse some way into the woods, he crept to the brink of the village and watched and waited for half an hour until he was certain there were no soldiers about. He crept from the trees and made his way towards the inn, hoping to find whoever it was that needed to vanish quickly from the village. He walked into the common room trying to look nonchalant but only succeeding in looking like someone up to no good. The locals eyed him stonily and the few strangers in the place shook their heads in amusement, knowing him for an adventurous youth without a penny to his name. Everyone watched him until he slunk into a seat far to the back and vanished from sight. After the general curiosity had died down, Kyan began to study his surroundings and hoped to see someone of interest.

  “You certainly know how to walk unnoticed into a room,” laughed a merry voice beside him. Kyan jumped at the noise and turned to face this unknown foe. A tall, thin boy with delicate features, stunning blue eyes, and flaxen hair stood at his shoulder with a smile of sheer joy upon his face. He noticed Kyan’s surprise and said as amusement twinkled in his eyes, “I am sorry to startle you so. May I join you? We are both strangers here and I would welcome your company.” Kyan nodded silently and the boy drew up a chair. Kyan’s eyes grew wide as he noticed the slightly tapered ears barely hidden under the boy’s slanting cap. The boy noticed Kyan’s renewed astonishment and carefully adjusted his headwear before saying quietly, “I would appreciate if you told no one of my unique heritage.” Kyan nodded silently and the elven boy smiled again, “now what brings you to this backwater village?”

  Kyan said dazedly, “I think it is you.” The boy cocked his head in interest and Kyan continued, “a talking magpie told me to come here to meet someone who should not be found by the agents of the Dark Prince and to aid him in his escape, if possible.” The elf nodded as if this made all the sense in the world. Kyan eyed the elf strangely, “you do not take me for some sort of lunatic?”

  The boy laughed, “it all seems perfectly logical to me. Perhaps you do not know from whence I come?” Kyan nodded, having forgotten that to a former resident of the Fairywood a talking bird must not seem all that strange.

  “So what are you doing here?” asked Kyan.

  The elf boy said, “few of my people leave the haven of the Wood but I felt my duty lay in the Outlands, as we call them, and here I hoped to do great things in the King’s name. I sadly lost my way and find myself far from home and quite friendless. I still wish to do something to aid your desperate race but I find myself beginning to yearn more and more for home. What of you?”

  Kyan blinked back tears and said, “I too have become a refugee and a wanderer, though out of necessity rather than duty. Not three days ago the Blackguard came through my village and murdered my family in the name of their fell lord, for they would not deny the Master. I managed to escape but even so, there are scouts upon the road set to look for me. I too am alone in the world, save for a magpie that occasionally makes an appearance.”

  The elf smiled sadly and said, “I am sorry for your current grief but you must not mourn overly much for you will not be sundered forever from those you love. I cannot speak for the magpie, but if you are truly in the King’s service you are never truly alone.”

  Kyan smiled sheepishly and said, “you are right of course but I meant as far as human companions go.”

  The elf smiled, “I of course am not human but would be delighted to travel with you.”

  Kyan brightened and said, “we had best go then before the soldiers decide to terrorize this village as they did my own.”

  The elf nodded, stood, and motioned for Kyan to follow. They walked into the deepest shadows of the inn and quietly left through a small door that opened into the stableyard. A leggy black stallion stood in the shadows awaiting his master. He would have whinnied in greeting but the elf motioned for him to remain silent. “Have you a horse?” asked the elfling of Kyan as he eyed the great horse with amazement.

  Kyan said, “she is tied in the woods not far from here but she is nothing compared to this fabulous creature.”

  The horse bowed his head at this compliment and Kyan asked, “does he understand all we say?”

  The elf laughed, “of course, the horses of the Fairywood are nothing like the poor creatures of mortal lands. Come, we had best not linger. I am sure there are those who would sell us into the hands of our enemies. Go fetch your mare and we shall meet you along the road.”

  Kyan nodded and darted into the darkness. He appeared not long after upon the road going east out of town. They set forth immediately, the great horse keeping his pace to that of the weary mare. They rode for an hour until they found a convenient spot to hide. They slipped under cover and the elf declared he would take the first watch as Kyan gratefully descended into a much needed sleep. Kyan was wakened for his turn at watch and the elf boy took his chance at rest. In the grimmest hour of the night, Kyan heard the steady step of a horse upon the road. The horse passed twice in the night.

  Kyan waked his companion and told of what he had seen. The elf remarked cheerily, “we lef
t the village just in time.”

  “No you did not,” said a grim voice from the direction of the road. The elf reached for the sword at his belt and Kyan froze in terror, clutching his belt knife. The dark captain and half of his men sat their horses nearby. The great horse screamed a challenge and the captain’s stallion answered with his own fierce cry. The captain said, “will you surrender and come quietly or will we make a swift end of you both?”

  The elf laughed, “that is a foolish question. We certainly shall not yield to such as yourselves nor your foul master.”

  The captain laughed grimly and urged his horse down the bank towards the outrageous youth. The others followed suit, making them easy prey for the dozen horsemen that rode up behind them. The two boys stared in astonishment as battle was met and the darkly clad men were quickly overcome with only two of their rescuers taking minor wounds from their foes. Once the fracas had died down, the leader of the small band addressed the stunned boys, “and how did two simple boys earn the enmity of such men?”

  Kyan gasped, “the Whiteguard!”

  He bowed from his saddle, “at your service. And who might you be?”

  The elf smiled, “two wanderers much indebted to your rescue.”

  The man said grimly, “it might be best if you returned home lads. The wide world is no place for such as you.”

  Kyan said quietly, “I have no home to return to. The very men you slew murdered my family and turned my village against us all.”

  The elf said, “I left home to serve my King in some capacity and dare not return thence until I have been of such service.”

  At this, the boy removed his concealing headgear and the captain nodded sagely, “then perhaps you would honor us with your presence amongst us? We can always use another faithful sword.” The boys exchanged a smile and made for their horses. The captain eyed the elf’s horse with approval but looked sadly upon the old mare saying, “lad, that poor old girl will not survive the pace we must set. You had best turn her lose and take one of the beasts belonging of late to the Dark Prince. You had best take a sword as well.”

  The boy nodded grimly and chose the best of the three riderless horses standing patiently about. He reluctantly loosed the poor creature from her harness and patted her fondly in farewell but knew the hard truth of the man’s words. Kyan then approached one of the dead soldiers and disarmed him, though it was a task he would have rather avoided. He had never been so close to a dead man before. The captain nodded grimly as the boy awkwardly mounted with his new weapon and the captain said, “we had best be going before the rest of the troop comes upon us unawares.” Setting his words to action, he rode off and his men fell in behind him.

  Though they kept up a swift pace, Kyan was able to question the elf as they rode, “is this what you had imagined would happen when you left the Wood?”

  The elf smiled and said, “I did not know what would happen but I am content with my adventures so far. Many of my people have served with distinction in the Whiteguard.”

  The captain turned back to reply and said, “very few of your folk have ventured forth from your haven in my lifetime.”

  The elf laughed, “but my people do not grow old and frail as is the plight of your sad race. When I say many, I mean many though it is counted in millennia rather than decades.”

  The captain laughed, “when you put it that way then I am forced to agree. What of you lad? Can you wield a sword?”

  Kyan shrugged, “my father taught me the basics of such a weapon though I am far from proficient.”

  The captain smiled, “we shall rectify that soon enough. At least you will not stab yourself in the process. How come you to know of the Whiteguard? Few in these latter days know anything of us.”

  The boy said, “my father once rode among you.”

  The man nodded, “then I am honored to be of service to his son. You have my condolences upon your loss but I hope you come to see us as family and friends while you are amongst us.”

  Kyan bowed his head silently in thanks for the man’s kindness. They rode hard and were soon far beyond the thicket where the impromptu battle had taken place that morning. They made camp and posted a watch while the captain and a few of the other men worked with Kyan on his swordsmanship and spoke to the boys about their new life. The days passed quickly as the company rode north. Kyan grew in skill and confidence with the sword and Fyanor the elf became his dearest companion while the men of their company became their extended family. They fought against any of the minions of the Darklord who crossed their path and occasionally men broke off in pairs to speak the light of the Maker into the dark lives of those they met. Men left the company in this way, one man was lost in combat, but as they rode so too did men wish to join their ranks, or wandering members of the Guard joined them for a time before breaking off again to spread word of the Master abroad. In this way, the makeup of the company was constantly changing. There were such bands scattered throughout the world doing the same thing. Finally, the day came when their captain said to Kyan and Fyanor, “I think it is time the both of you took your turn speaking hope to the hopeless.” The pair exchanged an anxious look but nodded eagerly before setting out on their first solo adventure.