Flipping around, his eyes widened as they fell upon a huge serpent. As the ghastly beast rose to its full height, Traven realized that there was no chance for escape. The beast was too close. Traven stared numbly into the glowing eyes that shown out of the darkness twenty feet above him. The beast’s jagged teeth dripped with anticipation of fresh meat. Traven knew if he tried to run, the beast would instantly fall upon him, devouring him in a single, effortless bite. He slowly reached for his short, but sharp, hunting dagger and unsheathed it silently. If he was destined to die, he would at least sting this horrible beast in a last act of defiance. As he contemplated whether he should run toward the beast or wait for it to strike on its own, his hand slowly crept to the small blue gem that hung from a leather cord around his neck. At last he would join his sister, mother and father in the afterlife. Mockery, sickness, and hard work were not all that wonderful. Perhaps death wouldn’t be so bad. Filled with these thoughts, he made his decision and crouched as he readied himself to rush the horrid beast.
There was suddenly an acrid smell in the air, and his icy cheeks were abruptly warm as flames leaped from the black lips of the beast, illuminating the tops of the majestic buildings for a brief moment before the city was once more bathed in the darkness of night. Traven smelled the sickly stench of burnt flesh as he focused on the blazing eyes of the beast for the last time. Pain pierced his chest. The realization suddenly came that he was smelling his own burnt flesh. Traven was dumbfounded as he glanced down at his bare chest. His gem was no longer a calm blue but a pulsating bright orange. He screamed in agonizing pain as it seared through his skin and into his breast bone!
The world suddenly erupted in heat and pain, and Traven bolted upright in his bed. He was drenched in his own sweat and the cool breeze that passed through his room gave him goose bumps. His heartbeat slowly began to return to its normal rate as he lowered himself back onto his stiff mattress. Traven could feel the gemstone on his bare chest. He was relieved that it was still cool and soothing against his skin. He welcomed the cold breeze that came through his half-opened window as it helped to erase the memory of the heat and terror of his nightmare. He had had this dream several times in the past few weeks, but this was the first time he had been burnt by something other than the beast’s flaming breath. If these nightmares did not stop, he wondered if he would be able to get a good night’s sleep ever again. Why must he be tormented in the solitude of his dreams? With the smell of burnt flesh still lingering in his nostrils and the despairing conclusion that he would never feel true peace, he slowly drifted back to sleep. He wondered what he had ever done to deserve disruptions at night after a hard day of work.
Traven woke several hours later with sunlight streaming through his window, still tired and sore from yesterday’s hauling. He slowly pulled on his tattered pants and scuffed boots and stumbled down to the stream behind his grandfather’s cottage. After splashing his face in a vain effort to fully wake up, he lowered the iron kettle he was carrying into the water and carried it back inside. After starting a small fire under the kettle of water, he retrieved his hunting knife and a large knob of wood. He slumped down onto his stool as he continued to whittle away at the knob he had been slowly working at for a week. He was just finishing smoothing the outside and was wondering what to make out of it. He patiently waited for his grandfather and grandmother to wake up as he wondered what shape the knob would eventually take on. His grandfather soon came out of his bedroom looking fresh and cheerful, closely followed by his wife.
“Up early this morning!” his grandfather exclaimed as he stopped to rustle Traven’s dirty blonde hair as he crossed the room.
“The sun’s been up for an hour already Pops. It’s just that you in your old age slept in,” Traven threw back with a grin on his face.
“Well, well. Is that so? I should have known that you would never rise early to get a jump on the day’s work. And the only reason I slept in was because your grandmother and I were up late talking about your future last night, not because I am old.”
Traven went back to whittling the wood with a sigh as his grandmother began to prepare breakfast. His grandparents were always discussing his future. They apparently had great plans for him. He was going to become a wealthy merchant and live in a large mansion in Calyn. At least that is what they had been stuck on recently. They were always talking about how he was so smart and could do anything that he wanted to. Traven did dream of doing great things and becoming wealthy, but he wasn’t sure that he could live up to his grandparents’ expectations.
Maybe it would be better to stay in the village and continue as a woodcutter like his father had. Traven wasn’t afraid of trying new things, but he was afraid of failure. The other boys of the village always made fun of him for dreaming of a life beyond their small community. He constantly lived with the fear of leaving to make his fortune only to return as a failure with nothing. Then all of the village would mock him, the dreamer who thought he was better than the rest of them. His grandparents told him not to worry about the villagers because there was no way that he would ever fail. He was afraid nonetheless. What was wrong with staying in the village anyway? The lumber business had supported their community for as long as anyone could remember and had always been a source of pride. Everyone knew that the best oak in the land came from the village of Oak Tree. The village’s very name proclaimed it. The village had gotten its name because it had been built around a massive oak tree that was so majestic nobody dared to fell it.
He was sure he could make enough money as a woodcutter to support his grandparents and a family if he worked hard, but he also knew that he would never become wealthy. He also knew he would never be satisfied living in one place for the rest of his life. He wanted to see all of the things that the merchant caravans talked about when they came to Oak Tree. He wanted to see the Great Sea and the sparkling white towers of the royal palace in Calyn. He wanted to visit the gold mines of Arcad and see the amazing . . .
“Traven! Snap out of it. Your porridge is going to get cold if you just sit there staring out into space,” his grandmother exclaimed. She smiled as Traven hurriedly put away his knife and sat down at the table with an embarrassed look on his face.
“Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“Oh I know. You’re always thinking about something. That’s how I know you will be successful. You always think deeply about everything.”
Once again his grandmother had expressed her confidence in him. Something stirred within Traven. In that moment he decided that he would succeed no matter what it took. Whether he became the greatest logger in Oak Tree or the merchant his grandparents always dreamed of, he would make his grandparents proud. He cared about them more than anything else. They were the only family that he had left in the world. When he was only two years old, his mother and older sister had died suddenly of Aching Fever. He grew up with only his father and had been very close to him. He had done everything with his father until he too had died. Six years ago his father had been attacked by a bear in the forest. Traven had been the first to find his father’s mauled and lifeless body. His father’s stiff hand had been clenching the gem that Traven now wore around his neck. The only things that he had left from his father were his hunting knife and the gemstone that he wore around his neck. The blue gemstone reminded him of his father’s deep, piercing eyes. His hand unconsciously went to the stone as he remembered his father.
“Oh my goodness!” his grandmother exclaimed. “What happened to you?”
The sudden outburst confused Traven, and he wondered what had caused it. He saw that his grandmother was staring at something and followed her gaze down to his chest. His heart suddenly skipped a beat as he now saw what had startled her. Right in the center of his chest where the stone hung was a large, fresh burn mark. Traven continued to stare at the burn numbly as his grandmother quickly brought over a soothing ointment and gently rubbed it on the burn. He now realized why his chest had been so sore when he w
oke up this morning. The dull pain slowly faded away as the salve was worked into the burn. He couldn’t figure out where the burn had come from. It had only been a dream. You could not be hurt physically in a dream. It had only been a dream! But what else could account for the burn on his chest?
“Don’t look so worried,” Traven’s grandfather said. “It’s just a little burn. Don’t think it’s going to get you out of helping me haul the lumber down to Hand’s mill.” He chuckled as he rose from the table and went outside to get the horse hitched to the wagon.
Traven slowly rose from the table and went into his room to put on a shirt. He still did not understand how he could have been burned. Once he had buttoned up his shirt, he pulled out the stone and dangled it in front of his eyes, studying it. It was the same as it had always been; it was still just a deep blue gemstone. There were no changes to the stone at all, and it was cool to the touch as usual. Confused and still troubled, Traven went outside to help his grandfather load up the oak that they would be taking to the mill.
* * * * *
From the kitchen window, Traven’s grandmother gazed out at her grandson. He had grown up too fast. Tomorrow he would turn eighteen and enter full manhood. He would no longer be her little boy. She had always thought of him as the chubby, light haired boy with freckles that had always followed her around. Staring at him from the window, she realized that he had grown up a lot. He was not little anymore. She recognized for the first time just how tall he had grown. He had to be over six feet tall, taller by far than most of the men in the village. His hair was still slightly blond but now closer to chestnut brown, and his freckles had slowly melted away. He had finally shed his baby fat and was actually well muscled from all of the hard work he had been doing for his grandfather. The only things that had not changed were his bluish-green eyes and his boyish smile. He had become a rather good looking young man. She had always thought he was handsome, but of course she would because she was his grandmother. She knew that young women would now notice what she had always known.
She was going to miss him greatly. Still, she knew that she needed to let him be free of the village and follow his dreams. He could become so much more than just a simple woodcutter. As much as she wanted him to stay, the only way he was going to become something great was with an education, and the only way he could get an education was if he left to go to one of the big cities. She just wished that he did not have to go so far away and that it did not have to happen so soon. As Traven finished loading up the wagon and climbed up next to his grandfather, she turned away from the window and went back to cleaning up the breakfast dishes.
* * * * *
As they started down from the farm toward the mill, Traven’s grandfather was unusually quiet. Their trips to the mill were usually full of jokes and laughter. However, this morning he seemed resigned. He talked a little but mostly kept silent. Traven wondered what had brought it on. He had been fine this morning at breakfast. Traven wondered if it had something to do with the fact that he was turning eighteen the next day. He would be entering manhood, but why would that upset his grandfather? Nothing would be any different. He would still be the same as he always was and would continue helping his grandfather cut wood through the fall and winter.
Traven soon fell into silence as well. He watched the trees run by on either side of the road. The first traces of fall were finally beginning to show in the forest. There was a crisp breeze in the air coming from the east off of the mountains and some of the trees had just begun to change their leaves. Soon it would be cold enough that he would need a cloak, but as for now, he enjoyed the refreshing breeze. After several minutes, the trees began to thin and give way to the small village of Oak Tree. The village consisted of several houses and shops in a circular pattern around a large park in the center of the village that boasted the largest oak tree anyone had ever seen.
People were already milling about and several little kids were chasing each other around the oak. A few people stopped to wave at Traven and his grandfather as they made their way through the town, past the grand oak in the middle of the park, and towards Hand’s lumber mill on the outskirts of the far side of town.
The mill was nestled alongside the swift creek that flowed along the edge of the village on its way to emptying into the Blue River. The mill rose above the trees and towered over all of the buildings in the city. Alongside the mill, its mammoth waterwheel was turned continually by the swift creek providing the power needed to cut the oak easily into useful lumber. Hand’s mill was large enough to process all of the raw oak that the villagers brought in. The lumber was then sent in huge wagon loads to a warehouse in Kavar and from there shipped all over the land. Hand owned the only lumber mill nearby and all of the villagers had to accept the prices that he set. He paid good money for the wood but not as much as it was worth. Traven had often thought that maybe he could open a lumber mill in Oak Tree, when he had enough money, and create a little competition.
After they had unloaded the oak and received payment for it, they began back across town towards their home. They had been working more than usual all summer, and Traven wondered why they were still bringing in so many loads. He knew the money from their last couple of loads should last them through the winter, and they had already cashed in on several loads previously. He wondered what had happened to the money, but his grandparents wouldn’t tell him. So he was left to wonder as he had continued working hard through the end of the summer. For some reason, his grandfather insisted that they needed to keep working through the fall and winter also. Maybe his grandfather was so quiet because he was worrying about money. Traven assumed that they must have plenty, but what else could he be worrying about.
As they slowly came out of the village and back into the woods towards their home, Traven’s grandfather finally spoke up.
“Traven, I have something very important to tell you.” He then paused for several moments as if trying to decide how exactly to say what he wanted to.
“Go on Pops,” Traven coaxed. From the look on his grandfather’s face, he didn’t know whether the news was going to be good or bad.
“The reason that we have been working so hard is because your grandmother and I have been saving up all of the money for a specific purpose. We’ve been saving a little ever since your father died and with the extra money that we’ve made this year, we had enough money to pay for you to go to a respectable merchant school in Calyn.” For a moment, Traven sat in silence, completely dumbfounded.
“A merchant school in Calyn!” he finally exclaimed.
He couldn’t believe it. Calyn was the largest city in Kalia and the busiest port on the Great Sea. It was also the home of the High King of all Kalia. He had always dreamed of visiting Calyn but had never really expected that the day would ever come. And on top of the chance of just going there, he would be going to a merchant school. No wonder his grandparents had been talking about him becoming a wealthy merchant. Yet, he knew that only the wealthy had enough money to send their children to a merchant school. Oh how he wished he could go, but he couldn’t just take all of this money from his grandparents.
“I don’t think you should spend so much money on me. You should keep it and use it for yourself and Mams. It really isn’t that important to me.”
“Nonsense boy. We know you better than you think. That’s why we’ve kept it a secret. I’ve had the money sent to the school, and they are already expecting you. We knew that you’d feel guilty, but now you don’t have any choice but to go. Ah hah, you didn’t think I was that crafty did ya. Besides, you’ve worked as hard, even harder, than I have. Half of the money was yours anyway.”
Traven’s grandfather was grinning satisfactorily, and Traven couldn’t help but feel great as well. He knew that his grandfather really had outsmarted him this time. He had no choice but to go to the school. When he glanced back at his grandfather with a smile on his face, he was surprised to find that his grandfather was no longer grinning.
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br /> “What is it?” Traven inquired slowly.
“Oh don’t worry. It’s just that you’re going to have to leave very soon in order to make it to the school in time for the next session. We waited until now so that you would not have time to worry about it. I guess I’m just going to miss you.”
“How soon Pops?” Traven asked anxiously.
After a pause Traven’s grandfather slowly said, “You’re going to have to leave tomorrow.”
2
Traven was awakened by his grandmother before the sun had a chance to peek over the horizon. It was going to be a long and busy day. He didn’t think he should have to do so much on his eighteenth birthday. He should have been able to just sit around and relax. However, there would be no relaxing today. By the time he had blinked the sleep away from his eyes, his grandmother already had breakfast ready. As he wandered into the kitchen, the smell of his favorite breakfast drifted to his nose. He loved biscuits and mutton gravy for breakfast. The smell made his stomach rumble. Maybe today would not be so bad after all.
Traven settled down at the table with his grandparents and placed two large biscuits on his plate before smothering them in gravy. He downed them quickly. After he had put away another helping, he leaned back happily in his chair. If his unexpected adventure started with such a delectable meal, it must be a good omen. Maybe his birthday was not such a bad time to embark on a new life. He started to rise from the table with the thought of changing into clothes for his journey but was stopped by his grandmother.
“Now Traven, you may be leaving today, but we didn’t forget that it was your birthday. We did have enough money left over to buy some gifts for you. Just you wait a minute while I go get them.”
With that, she quickly disappeared back into her room. After a few moments she reappeared with two bundles in her arms. She carefully placed them down on the table directly in front of him. She also pointed to a large package in the corner of the room with a smile. Traven could not help being excited with the looks on his grandparents’ faces and the bundles lying in front of him.
Wielder's Awakening Page 2
