“I’ll pay this time.” Garret said. “Next time one of you guys can pay, we will take turns.”
Both boys nodded in agreement, and Seth and Garret met eyes a moment. Both of them had noticed Ashton’s face when he realized Garret would be paying for him as well. Both twins came to the conclusion that he must not have much money with him and they agreed silently to save him any embarrassment by paying the majority of the way for their new found friend.
All three companions sat silently a moment, their eyes flickering around the room. It wasn’t long before the woman returned with her unremarkable smile, this time carrying a tray covered with mugs plates and bowls. The mugs were filled to the brim with a light colored ale that after a few tastes was evident that it had been watered down a bit. The bowls were filled with a fragrant steaming melody of beans and cabbage that tasted delicious if not rendering the consumer thirsty after every flaming bite. The plates too were piled with thick cuts of pork roasted and peppered, and each plate also held a toasted half loaf of bread. Eyeing all the food, unsure how any normal sized person could eat so much, Garret paid the plump smiling woman two silver and instructed her to keep the remaining twenty five copper for herself. She thanked him graciously and handed him a key with the number eighteen engraved upon it. The boys sat stuffing all the delicious foods into their ever reddening faces, attempting every so often to quench the heat with a large mouth full of ale. The trio was lost in their meal, oblivious to the room around them when as if the world had ceased to exist the room went unnaturally silent, then almost in unison all the inn’s gathered patrons inhaled as if expecting some great event. The three boys looked around in sudden wonder as to the commotion, or lack thereof rather, and seen immediately the cause for the rooms disruption. All eyes were locked on the old man in the corner. He had stood, as if to leave, the only really significant thing he had done since the boys arrived. Instead of leaving however, the old man glanced around the room, his gaze falling on, and pausing briefly when he looked to the boys. As if he was appraising their worth, as if he hadn’t seen them arrive. He stepped then nimbly to the bar beside the three drunken men, turning his back to the great polished stone slab that was the bar placed his hands behind him, each to one side and rested them palms down on the edge of the stone surface. Despite his apparent age, despite his withered features, he lifted himself gingerly to sit upon the edge of the stone surface with grace beyond that of those around him. The room still stood silent, everyone fearing to move or make a sound as if they might scare the old man back to his seat. The white haired man looked around the room again as if remembering where he was, and then inhaled silently to speak. Everyone in the room leaned nearer as if his ancient lips would not be able to make a sound big enough for them to hear. He spoke then in a melodious tone to the dozens of unworthy human ears.
“Would you be so kind as to let me recite a tale both old and glorious?” It was as if music escaped his lips when they parted, the entire audience already enthralled just sat silently waiting for him to continue, and he did.
“Once was a man blessed with powers so grand,
The women could not help but adore.
Unite his race was the mission he had,
Given to him by his god Gorandor
It took him no time to travel the land,
His body’s size of a man times four.
Yearning to save his race of man,
Whose conditions of life were so poor.
Though peace he wanted, he did understand,
To save them he must make war.
Many armies he crushed beneath his heel,
Improving man’s life with his sword.
Banners rose, his cause gaining strength,
His race was united once more.
It would not be long, he was assured
Armies would march with him by the score.
They cleared the lands of the evil it had,
And brought peace to his world’s doors.
His quest fulfilled, but man not safe,
For evil is like a festering sore.
Needing to ensure the safety of his race,
Knowing all too well their ancient lore.
He built a great city, named after his fathers,
Then arose from the stone, castle Valdadore.
For many hundred a year peace was protected,
The King now growing old and sore.
He passed his Kingdom to his only son,
Known now as King Sorantore.
Evil again strikes at our borders,
Always into the shields of Valdadore.
But each day the evil grows stronger,
As dark armies amass once more.
It seems the dark ones test our defenses,
Anxious to settle the score.
Too soon it seems our world again,
Will be drenched with the blood of war.
It falls to you, the young and the strong,
Blessed by the gods at your core.
To pick up the banners, and the cause,
And fight for your King Valdadore!”
The song was of the like that none of the boys had ever heard its equal, and the entire room sat enthralled hanging on every word the old man sang. Even the drunkards at the bar had quieted their clamorous jests to listen to the old codger’s song. Finally, when the man’s song came to an end many a man in the room lifted his mug and shouted "Long Live Valdadore!"
The old man scrutinized the small crowd, most of them still sat with their jaws still agape. It seemed to him his words had the effect he intended, and so with effortless grace he launched his body down from the bar and strolled straight across the room and out the door.
A few moments had passed since the old story teller had departed. Most of the people within the inn looked from one another in astonished glances, not feeling the warning the grave tale had told them. People started talking again in hushed voices at first repeating parts of the tale. The large room grew louder and louder as the twins and Ashton looked across the table at one another knowing all too sure that if the tale were true, The Choosing would be much more uncomfortable than anticipated. The boys still sat facing the bar, oblivious to their surroundings, discussing the old man’s tale when a loud thud followed by a bone shattering crack broke the tension in the room. Across from them, at the bar, stood one of the drunken men, holding one of the Inn’s stools in his hand. Next to him on the ground lay another one of the drunks writhing in pain clutching his face as blood spilled out between his fingers. Several men in the inn stood up. The barkeep, large as he was, ducked behind the counter as if to hide. The large burly drunk scanned the crowd measuring up those who had stood to intervene. Still holding the stool raised above him in one hand he turned back to the bar as the barkeep returned from behind the counter. The barkeep was now holding a small crossbow, drawn and loaded. If the drunk persisted he would drop where he stood.
“It time to call it a night John.” Stated the barkeep coolly. “Why don’t you go home, we can square up your tab tomorrow?”
The drunk, apparently named John, looked the barkeep in the face, and then glanced down at the crossbow. Hesitating momentarily, John lowered his stool then let it drop to the stone floor with a clatter. He looked at the man at his feet, turned and walked to the door muttering something about not gonna fight for Valdadore anymore, and how someone was gonna answer for his ruined night, then he strode, somewhat unevenly out the door slamming it behind him. Everyone in the room watched him go, everyone but Ashton. The gangly blonde bounced out of his chair and weaved himself between the stunned patrons towards the injured man. Coming to the man’s side Ashton dropped to his knees and closed his eyes, looking to the sky. His childish features relaxed and he spoke soft words then in Prayer to his Goddess, and opening his eyes looked down to the man who lay before him. Lightly grabbing the man’s protective hands, he peeled them back to assess the damage. Several people who had gathered around him, including the twins, gasped at the sight. The m
an's jaw was broken and ripped wide open spurting blood, his nose almost completely detached from his face. Ashton composed his face to one of un-terrified concern. He lowered his own hands above the man's face leaving a breath of a hair between himself and the man's mangled features. Chanting something nearly inaudible Ashton’s features seemed strained with some unseen exertion. Yellow and white light began to glow at his fingertips slowly, steadily encompassing his entire hands. With each repetition of his chant the light increased in intensity. Sweat beaded on Ashton’s forehead, and his body began to tremble lightly. He chanted louder and louder though his words were incoherent, something foreign. The light from his hands now encompassed the face of the injured man, and Ashton’s body shook more violently. Almost as if a cold wind blew down the young healer’s spine his body shuddered as the magic took him over racing through his blood. Ashton’s body was consumed in light for a moment as he regained control over the power that coursed through him. As if struck with an arrow he suddenly stopped chanting, his eyes popping wide open, he grinned in the direction of the twins then went limp falling to the floor. Ashton lay, eyes wide, breathing shallowly, still grinning at the amazing sensation coursing through his blood. The injured man lay next to Ashton, lying in a pool of his own blood. The man looked up at the faces around him, mouths wide open in wonder or horror, and he couldn’t be sure which. All the man knew was that most of the pain in his face had abated and the ringing in his ears had vanished completely. Not knowing how to react, he put his hands back up to shield his face, try to stop the blood. There was no blood, not now. Reaching up to touch his face he found with his blood stained fingers that his face had been completely and utterly restored. The guests all stared at the man on the floor and the boy beside him speechless. Only Garret and Seth reacted. They raced to their fallen friend and reached down each grabbing Ashton under an arm drug his limp form through the crowd and rested him in a chair. Garret shouted for some water, and a moment later the barmaid came hustling to their side with a large mug of clean water.
Long moments passed as Garret tried unsuccessfully to make Ashton drink the water. Ashton just sat there propped in the chair, a crooked grin on his face, eyes wide open oblivious to the world outside his own mind. The injured man had since regained his feet and was towering in front of Ashton with a look of unsurpassed gratitude lighting his face. The barmaid too was standing nearby incase the boys required anything further. The bar keep had come around the bar and was standing behind the small crowd, easily looking over their heads at the comatose boy. Ashton Blinked. The crowd froze. His lips settled into a straight line. The crowd still refused to move; now most of them stared at him with anxious faces their eyes wide. Ashton took a deep breath and shook his head as if to clear it of some invisible fog. The crowd roared a cheer like the boy had just slain a dragon.
The rest of the boy’s evening was filled with people approaching to congratulate Ashton. It was obvious that this made him more than a little uncomfortable, and often he replied that it was his Goddess that performed the healing, using him as her vessel. After the common room had cleared out a bit, with locals returning to their homes, and travelers retiring to their rooms, the twins finally had time to ask Ashton the questions they had been dying to ask for the last few hours. Garret started in on him first with questions about his limitations, could he restore an amputated limb and the such. These Ashton quickly pronounced were beyond his ability for the time being; however with proper training it was possible he could someday achieve such feats. As it were however, the miracle he performed here in the inn this evening was pushing his luck, testing his boundaries. It wasn’t that the power blessed to him was limited, Ashton had explained, it was his ability to control it, his ability to bend it to his will and do his bidding. The Goddess supplied the power, but it was left to him to wield it properly. While explaining all this to Garret, Seth sat silently, absorbing the information and had only one question for his friend.
“What does it feel like?” He had started, then thinking to clarify his question better continued with. “I mean what is it like when your Goddess feeds her power through you. It almost seemed that you were enjoying yourself while performing, and then when you finished healing the man it was like you were drunk or something?”
Ashton thought about the question for a moment, pondering the best way to explain it. Unable to find a perfect comparison, tried to explain as best he could.
“Well, I guess you could say that it feels wonderful to channel her power. It is kind of like a drug I guess, you feel it throughout your entire body like it is surging through your blood. It’s the best feeling you could ever imagine. For me it is like I can actually feel Lorentia’s love like a physical thing pumping through my body. It’s hard to explain really.”
Seth nodded in response taking the answer as it was. Perhaps if given the chance he could someday ask other magic users if they felt the same way.
The boys decided to get some rest, so they could get an early start in the morning. They found their room quickly, and unlocked the door. They clamored inside, piling all their packs in a corner. It was a small simple room all made with the same stone as the exterior of the building with a desk and two beds. Being that it was an interior room there was no window, only a small lamp that hung off a peg in the wall. Seth was quick to give up his place in a bed for the night, as it was obvious that Ashton was quite drained. Ashton argued that he should sleep on the floor being as the twins had been the ones to pay, but both of the twins squashed his argument and so it was decided. Both Garret and Ashton undressed and climbed into their beds. Seth pulled his blanket from his pack and curled up on the floor, his back against the door. The Trio was quick to find sleep this night. None tossed or turned, all exhausted from their long day. When morning came, none would remember having any dreams. It would be a peaceful night.
Chapter 3
Pretty face, mangled heart
Ashton was the first to wake, and was unsure if he should wake the twins or let them continue to sleep. He got out of bed, and while getting himself dressed, accidentally knocked Seth’s sword over with a loud clatter. Both twins sat up looking around. It took them a moment to remember where they were, and both of their gazes settled on Ashton who stood frozen, a sheepish grin on his face.
“Sorry ‘bout that guys” He said to them sincerely.
“No problem.” Garret replied still groggy. “We needed to get up early anyhow.” He added clearing his throat.
All three of them got dressed then and grabbed their equipment. They headed back out the door of their room, and down the hall to the common room. The hall was empty but voices could be heard already from the common room echoing down the stone hallway. They made their way back to the familiar room to be greeted by several faces they had seen the night before. Looking around Seth caught the eye of the barkeep behind the bar and the large man smiled and waved them over. Nudging his brother and Ashton, Seth relayed the unspoken invitation. The three of them made their way to the bar and seated themselves, where the night before, Ashton had performed a miracle of his chosen deity. The barkeep approached them from across the stone bar, a smile still on his face, and greeted them with his loud booming voice. He thanked them, his eyes on Ashton, for their help the previous night, and graciously offered them breakfast “on the house.” The boys happily accepted, and the barkeep turned and disappeared through a large door behind the bar. The three companions looked at each other in wonder. They sat for a while quietly; taking in the room now lit with the morning sun, and realized it was quite a cheery place. Garret and Seth looked around, comparing this inn to the very one they had been raised in. The inns really had little in common, besides the fact they both had a bar in the center of the common room and a kitchen past that. Other than those two facts, the two inns were hardly comparable. Garret, still looking around, noticed that many of the inns patrons were looking at them, speaking in whispers and muffled tones. Some of them pointed towards the bar when they
spoke, some of them simply jerked their heads in the boys’ direction. Thinking that Ashton’s acts last night must have spread through the town and these were people come to see the healer, Garret looked to Ashton to see if he had noticed as well.
It was immediately apparent that Ashton had noticed, his head hanging low to hide his face, and his cheeks burned crimson with embarrassment. Seth too was looking at Ashton, with a look of pity on his face. Meeting eyes with his twin Garret gave Seth a questioning glance. Both brothers knew their friend was uncomfortable, but neither of them had any idea what they could do about it.
The door to the kitchen burst open then, and all three of the boys looked up in anticipation. Through the door came the Barkeep, head held high scanning the room, his gaze lost among his patrons and landing on the Boys at his bar. In each arm he carried a tray. Upon one tray rested three plates, the other tray carried three mugs. He gingerly sat the plates in front of the boys, scanning their faces to see their responses. The boys eyed the food hungrily. Upon each plate was what appeared to be a small pie, as well as a large pastry. The mugs, the innkeeper told them as he passed them out, were filled with warm spiced cider. The trio each in turn thanked the Innkeeper for his hospitality and graciousness. He nodded in response to them happily, and scanned the crowd again with his eyes, all the while telling the boys if they wanted a room again this night they could have it at half price. The boys thanked him again but declined his offer. The large burly man again peered over the heads of the boys at his bar, and scanned the room around him.
“You boys seem to have made this a popular place this morning.” The barkeep stated. “If you would like, why don’t you go have your food on the front porch. People are less likely to stop in the middle of the street to stare at you there.” The last sentence the large man said much louder than he needed too, as if to convey the message to the whole room.
Ashton, all too happy to take the man’s advice, stood up immediately making the twins’ decision for them. They all three slung their packs on their shoulders, and snatched up their plates and mugs. The barkeep watched them knowingly, and told them that they could just leave the plates and cups on the porch when they were finished, he would collect them later. They all nodded to him in thanks, then turned and headed for the door.
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