The Godling Chronicles

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The Godling Chronicles Page 2

by Brian D. Anderson


  She was a kindly woman who had moved to Sharpstone from Althetas just after the war. Both her son and husband had been killed in battle, as was the case with many of the western newcomers. With their lives in tatters and their homes destroyed, they had journeyed east to rebuild and find peace. Eighteen years had now passed since the Reborn King was defeated, and still the world was picking up the pieces. A steady flow of new arrivals in Sharpstone had continued throughout, doubling the population from when Jayden was a small boy.

  He plucked a cherry tomato from a basket on the shelf. “Is my father here?”

  “Not yet,” Polly replied. “And I can tell you, if he’s late, your mother will skin him alive.”

  He popped the tomato into his mouth, savoring the sweet taste. Father was almost never late. No matter how far away he traveled, he had a habit of reappearing almost to the very minute of when he was expected.

  “Are you staying for dinner?” he asked, trying not to let the juice from the tomato spill down his chin.

  Polly shook her head. “No. I need to rest my old bones. Tomorrow is going to be a big day.”

  “They don’t have you working on my birthday, do they?”

  “If by they you mean your mother, then no. But I’ll be lending a hand anyway. Otherwise she’ll work herself into the ground and miss all the fun.” Polly flicked a bit of flour in his direction. “Now you had better go and get ready for supper.”

  Jayden smiled and exited the kitchen. Missing all the fun was probably just what his mother had in mind. It wasn’t that she hated the townsfolk. Quite the contrary. She had often remarked how accepting they were of the changes, especially compared with what was happening in other places. About twenty or so elves had settled in Sharpstone, and none were treated with anything but kindness and respect.

  He found her in the parlor, curled up in a chair with a small leather-bound book. Her auburn hair was tied into a loose braid, and she was wearing her favorite pair of cotton trousers and a shirt. He could tell from the way she was knitting her brow that she was not really reading.

  She looked up as he entered and sat the book down on the table beside her. “Have you seen your father?”

  Jayden shook his head. “I thought he would be home by now.”

  “So did I.”

  On the rare occasions he had been late, she had not bothered to conceal her irritation. This time it was different. This time he could see that she was worried.

  She forced a smile. “I’m sure he’ll be home soon.”

  Her mood unsettled Jayden. She was almost never nervous or worried, particularly when it came to his father. Angry and irritated, yes. But never worried.

  “Who’s coming tonight?” he asked.

  “You already saw Linis,” she replied. “Dina will be along later with Millet. That’s all. I thought we would keep it small.”

  “You know Polly’s planning to help out tomorrow?”

  Kaylia groaned. “That woman. The Creator bless her, but she drives me crazy sometimes.” She gestured to a seat beside her. “Come. We still have time before they arrive. Talk with me for a while.”

  Here we go again, thought Jayden. These days, there was only ever one reason his mother wanted to sit and talk. But as much as he wanted to, he could not refuse. Taking a seat, he leaned on his knees with shoulders sagging. “Are we really going to do this again?” he sighed.

  “Indulge me.”

  It was not a request.

  “I’ve told you and father over and over that I don’t want to be a farmer. Why can’t you understand?”

  She frowned. “There is nothing wrong with farming. Nothing at all. Your father has done very well for this family, and you could too if you would only apply yourself.”

  “Apply myself?” he scoffed, then quickly reined in his tone before adding: “I work as hard as anyone here.”

  “Yes. I know that. But there’s more to it than just work. You never take the initiative, Jayden. I saw you twice walk by a damaged fence last week. Did you think to repair it? Or did you leave it for someone else to do?”

  He blew out a breath. “So I didn’t repair a fence. So what?”

  “Because one day this farm and everything on it will be yours. I would have thought you’d take pride in it.”

  “I don’t want it. For the last time: I don’t want to be a bloody farmer.”

  She flashed him a warning look. “Don’t raise your voice to me, young man. You may be as big as your father, but I can still give you a beating.”

  He was instantly contrite. “I’m sorry, Mother. I know it upsets you, but I just don’t want to be what you want me to be.”

  “Then tell me: what do you want? You say you don’t want to be a farmer, but you never say what it is you want to do with your life.”

  After a long pause, he lowered his eyes and admitted: “I don’t know. Not yet. All I know is that it’s not farming. And that I won’t find it in Sharpstone.”

  “So you would abandon everything…abandon me?” Despite her hard tone, her eyes were unable to hide the pain his words had caused.

  Jayden could not stand to see her so distressed, even though he knew it was her way of manipulating him into staying. After every one of these conversations, he would promise himself that next time it wouldn’t work. But it always did.

  “I’m not abandoning you,” he protested. “It’s just that I want to see what else is out there. I’ve never been away from home. Gath. That’s it.”

  “And what do you think you’ll find? Excitement? Adventure? Let me tell you something about the world, son. It’s a cruel and dangerous place, filled with people who care nothing for you or anyone else. Here at home you have peace and family and friends who love you. Believe me, there are more people than you could count who would give anything for what you have right here.”

  “But at least you have been out there. You had the chance to discover all this for yourself. Anyway, I don’t believe the outside world is as bad as all that. I listen to the stories people tell. The way I hear it, it’s just a few areas where there’s still trouble.”

  “You mean the stories and nonsense those who fled their homes tell you? The ones who came to escape the danger and settle here? Are those the people you’re listening to?”

  Jayden was on the verge of shouting. Only with great difficulty did he manage to keep a level tone. “I don’t care what you say. And I don’t care what Father says either. I’m a man now. I will go where I want.”

  His mother’s face tightened, and she glared at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, her features relaxed. “Yes, you are a man now, I suppose. But you are also my child. If you are so determined to leave, I will go with you.”

  Jayden furrowed his brow. “You are joking, right?”

  “I have never been more serious. I know this world from one end to the other. If you wish to see it, at least let me show it to you properly.”

  Of anything she could have said, this was the very last thing he expected to hear. “So you want to watch over me? Is that it?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “The perils you’ll face will be many. I can show you things that you would never be able to discover on your own.”

  Before he could reply, she stood up and raised a forestalling hand. “You don’t have to answer me straight away. Just consider it...for me.”

  Jayden had no idea how to react. On one hand, the mere thought of his mother hovering over him as he traveled was unbearable. On the other, she was a full-blooded elf who must have seen many places that only someone of her race would know. That was an enticing prospect.

  “I’ll think about it,” he said finally.

  Kaylia smiled down at her son. “Good. Then…”

  She staggered back, gripping the arm of the chair for support. Jayden shot from his seat to take hold of her hand.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Kaylia shook her head. “I…it’s nothing. I must have stood up too quickly, that’s all. I’ll
be fine in a moment.”

  “Please, Mother, sit back down.”

  She waved a dismissive hand and smiled. “Really. I’m fine. Go change for supper, son.” She kissed his cheek.

  Jayden hesitated. His mother was almost never ill. In fact, he could only remember it happening twice before. And both times had been when his father was away.

  She squeezed his hand. “I said I’m fine. You know I don’t sleep well when your father is away. I’m just tired.”

  “If you’re absolutely sure...”

  “Yes...yes. Just go.”

  Reluctantly, he left and went upstairs to his room. Clothes had already been laid out on his bed. On the wall was a map of Baltria that his sisters had sent to him the year they left home. They had been only eleven at the time, but already more mature than most girls well into their teens.

  Lady Bellisia, an elf elder and dear friend of the family from the west, had been the one who finally convinced his parents to let them go.

  “They need a proper education,” she had said. “You know this is not a suitable place for them to learn how to control their powers.”

  The flow had always been strong in his sisters. Playing around with it, they had accidentally burned down the barn when they were only six years old, an incident that left the townsfolk clearly afraid of them. It was this as much as anything else that eventually convinced his parents to allow the move. In Baltria they would be under the care of the elves and taught the proper way to control their powers. It was rumored that a few of the remaining half-men had gone there as well. His father, on the other hand, had told him that none of these were left alive – though how he would know this was anyone’s guess.

  Jayden took his shower and dressed. From downstairs, the aroma of the coming meal was now drifting up to fill the entire house, and he could hear sounds of the table being set. Jayden enjoyed it when Millet came to visit. He was always ready with a story or two about his former lord, Lee Starfinder. To hear them tell it, the two had traveled to virtually every corner of the world at one time or another, and the adventures they had experienced together bordered on the unbelievable.

  “I can assure you that every word of it is true,” Millet had told him. “Lord Starfinder was quite the hero.”

  His father didn’t seem to enjoy it as much, often looking sad when the subject came up.

  Jayden heard a coach approaching just as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Linis was talking to his mother in hushed whispers at the dining table, and her face was wracked with concern, telling him without his needing to ask that his father had not yet arrived.

  A moment later, there was a solid rap at the door.

  Jayden opened it to find Millet and Dina. Millet was wearing an elegant suit and waistcoat, while Dina was clad in a simple cotton dress.

  The old man smiled warmly. “You are the image of your father,” he said.

  Dina kissed his cheek. “But with his mother’s ears.”

  Dina did not bear the distinctive elfish features, despite the fact that she was also half elf.

  “I find that elf ears are quite becoming,” Millet remarked. He was bent and looking weary; his age had definitely begun to show over the last few years. “And I would wager that the young ladies of Sharpstone feel the same way.”

  “Yes,” agreed Dina. “And you should know that the village mothers are already talking about a match for you, Jayden.”

  Seeing him blush, she laughed softly. “Don’t worry. They’re far too frightened of your mother to come here pestering you. But I’d be careful not to get caught alone. They’ll have you over to their houses and be parading daughters and granddaughters in front of you before you can blink.”

  “It’s shameful, if you ask me,” remarked Millet. “Treating their offspring like livestock the way they do. Young people should be allowed to choose a match for themselves.”

  Dina rolled her eyes. “I’m joking and you know it, you old grump.”

  Millet didn’t much care for the Village Mothers. What’s more, the feeling was mutual. They had never forgiven him for remaining unmarried, complaining that a man with so much wealth had no business keeping it all to himself. This despite the fact that Millet was indeed very generous and did almost as much as Gewey to keep the townsfolk employed.

  Jayden led them to the parlor and poured them each a glass of wine. “I think dinner is almost ready,” he announced.

  “Is my husband around?” asked Dina.

  Jayden nodded. “I think he’s helping Mother prepare for tomorrow.”

  “Ah, yes,” remarked Millet. “They’re saying that only the festival of Gerath is bigger. Then again, I suppose the son of Gewey Stedding deserves no less.” He looked to the door. “Speaking of whom, where is that rascal?”

  “He hasn’t returned yet.”

  Dina gave an exaggerated shudder. “I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes if he misses your party.”

  Millet chuckled. “He’ll be here. Gewey is as dependable as they come.” He looked to Jayden. “Since I have you here, what’s this your father tells me about you wanting to move away?”

  Jayden suppressed a groan. “I just want to see a bit of the world for a while. That’s all.”

  “I fear you’ll be disappointed with what you find, lad,” Millet told him. “Since the war ended, there’s been nothing but trouble wherever you look; though I suppose Baltria is safe enough. The people there want little to do with the goings on in the west.”

  “Father tells me things have improved now that the elves have an equal seat on the Council of Nobles.”

  A sad expression crossed Millet’s face. “Improved, yes, though there are still many humans who are not so keen on the idea. You would have thought that the war might have banished all those old hatreds. Unfortunately, for a good number of people, the past is all they can understand. Change comes slowly, even for the best of us. And for some, it’s impossible. Even I am not immune. Did I ever tell you how I met your mother?”

  Jayden smiled. Millet had told him many times, in fact.

  “We were fleeing west…well, your father and Lee were, at any rate. I was trying to catch them up…”

  Dina cleared her throat. “I think you’re confused. You met her up north, while Gewey and Lee were hiding in the mountains. Remember?”

  Millet looked at her for a moment, puzzled. “Oh…yes, that’s right.” He began laughing. “Lee and I were on so many eventful journeys, I must have got them mixed up.”

  “But that’s my point,” said Jayden. “I want to actually do something. I want to have my own adventures, so I can have stories to tell.”

  Millet leaned back in his chair and took a sip of wine. “You remind me of Lee. More so than your father, in some ways. Hot-blooded and reckless. Did I ever tell you about the time he and I were captured by pirates? Not while at sea, mind you, but deep within a mountain pass.”

  “Yes, you’ve told us,” Dina scolded playfully. “Many times.”

  At that point, Linis entered the room. After kissing Dina, he knelt in front of Millet and took him by the hand. “It’s good to see you, old friend. You’re looking well.”

  Millet huffed. “I look old. And I feel older.”

  Linis rose and slipped his arm around Dina. “Don’t you believe what he says, Jayden. Millet may look old, but he’s nowhere near as feeble as he likes to pretend.”

  “If we don’t eat soon, I will be,” Millet remarked.

  “The table is set and ready for us,” Linis told them. “We’re just waiting for Gewey.”

  Kaylia entered the room just as he was speaking. “Not any more, we’re not. He’ll just have to have his dinner served cold.”

  Although his mother tried to conceal it, Jayden could see the worry behind her smile.

  The meal was eaten in a festive atmosphere, despite his father’s conspicuous absence. When the subject of Jayden’s desire to travel came up, Kaylia told everyone about her offer to go with him.

 
“I think that would be a grand idea,” Linis responded, with sincere enthusiasm. “Your mother knows the land better than most. She traveled quite a bit in her youth.”

  “My youth?” Kaylia repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I’m still in my youth.”

  Jayden was not sure precisely how old she was. Over one hundred, he thought. Elves, however, lived for as long as five hundred years, so by their reckoning, she was still a young woman. He had no idea how old Linis might be. Dina he knew to be in her fifties, though her elf blood kept her looking as if she were still in her late twenties.

  “Speaking of youth,” Millet chipped in, “this young man has an appointment with the mayor once all the celebrating is over.”

  “I told you no,” snapped Kaylia.

  “And I told you I shall do with it as I please,” Millet retorted. Reaching inside his waistcoat, he produced a folded parchment bearing a wax seal. He pushed this across the table to Jayden. “Happy birthday, young man.”

  Breaking the seal, Jayden’s eyes ran over the letter’s contents. A look of astonishment quickly formed. “This is too much.” he gasped. “I can’t possibly accept this.”

  It was a declaration that, upon Millet’s death, Jayden would inherit his Sharpstone estate.

  His protest was waved aside. “You have no choice, I’m afraid. My friends already have their own homes, and I would not see the Starfinder Estate go to a stranger. My wealth is to be distributed among friends. The house and land, however…they are yours.”

  Jayden stood up and rounded the table. “Thank you,” he said, leaning down to embrace the old man.

  “Now you have something to call your own,” he replied. “And maybe one day you’ll come to think of it as your home.”

  “Well, this makes our gift seem drab and dull by comparison,” said Linis, smiling.

  The elf rose and left the dining room for a few moments. On his return he was holding a long, ivory-handled sword, sheathed in a leather scabbard with elf lettering etched down its length.

  Jayden’s eyes lit up as he took the weapon and carefully removed it from its scabbard. The steel sang as it slid effortlessly free. It was perfectly balanced and obviously elf made. The desire to swish it about was almost overwhelming.

 

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