The Heir of Raithwall

by

Jeff Nehring

Chapter I

Autumn was near. The trees of Faldor were beginning to loose their beautiful green leaves, and the air was becoming chilled by winter's close presence. It came as a warning to tell the world the death of nature was close at hand. Baylion new the signs, but the notion still made him uncomfortable. With every breath he took, the air steamed, the swirls of it wove in intricate patterns before dissipating into the air.

Baylion was concealed; crouching in the underbrush of the Misty Wood, waiting patiently for the elk to pass by. He had seen the tracks three days ago, massive tracks that ran along the area he was now hiding in. he tracked them and found that they stayed consistent. He was going to catch this animal for the Death Feast one three days from now.

Baylion's pointed ears tingled in the frosty air. It was dark out, but his exceptional night vision helped him pierce through the darkness that was slowly receding. Baylion was in love with this valley, The Misty Wood, all the way down to the Chrystal Falls where he could sit and watch the water rush for hours.

There was a snapped of a tree branch thirty feet to his left. He slowly turned so as not to disturb the beast that he knew was there. He held the bow ready and his heart skipped a beat as he saw the size of the elk he was to shoot. Its massive head was to the ground as it grazed and its shoulder span was twice the size of any elk he had ever caught. It crossed his path five minutes later, all the while Baylion's heart raced.

He suddenly raised the bow, took aim, and shot. The bow gave a dull twang as the arrow zipped out towards the animal, which instinctively jumped. It was no use, however, the bolt hit the beast in the directly behind its shoulder blade, a perfect shot.

The elk took off like a bullet, its adrenaline kicking in. Baylion knew it was useless, but there was something about that elk that made him realize the truth of death. All animals die alone, no matter what species.

He slowly got to his feet, the dense moss squishing underneath him. He saw the first blood drop ten feet away from where the animal was shot. From there he tracked the animal one hundred meters north of his hiding spot. When he came up to the beast, it was still breathing hard, trying to fight for its life, even though it knew the prospect was hopeless.

As the light faded from the animals eyes Baylion prayed for the animal's spirit to join Parseafuss in the Halls of Golden Light. The beast would be too heavy for Baylion to carry as it was so he had to gut the beast there in the meadow where it lay.

Once done, he washed his hands in the water to relieve him of the blood stains. He heaved the elk onto his back with a huff and carried it down the steep hill. Crossing the bridge running over the White River, he entered the village, it was still very early in the morning, but a few shops were open. Chimney's spewed smoke and the smell of bread and spices filled the air.

"Baylion, my my my, you have been a busy boy," said Margaret, the flower shop owner.

"Good morning ma'am. How is Keith," asked Baylion.

The old lady's eyes wrinkled and a frown spread across her leathery face as she said," Not good, I'm afraid. His sickness continues to get worse. I've tried to slow it and take away the pain with all the tinctures I know, but he's fading."

"It'll be alright, I'm sure you are doing all you can to help him, if he passes, I'm sure he will be happy for all you've done."

She smiled sweetly at him and patted him on the cheek," You're a good boy Baylion; your parents raised you right. If you get the opportunity would you please stop by the house, I'm sure Keith would be glad to see you."

Baylion nodded and the old woman continued on her way. Baylion felt sorry for the lady. She had dealt with just as much as every person in the village had. Yet she and everyone else treated him with more kindness than they did to themselves.

He continued his trek to the cutlery. He passed two far-off travelers who had asked for shelter in the night. He found out the news from the other towns, and so on.

"King Vlademir's got his hands full with them raiders on the move," said the first man who was scraggly and stout. His clothes hung in tatters around his pot belly.

"Do you mean the Minotian Raiders?"

"Aye," answered the second, his voice was rather scratchy," that and the Paladins who have now taken over the western coast of the Vesararian Empire. King Talbany is on the move and Vlademir is concerned of the threat he's been posin' to himself and his daughter, Princess Ashe."

Baylion nodded in agreement, he suspected the time for the truce to end was near. He was surprised to learn that King Talbany had managed to overwhelm the Vesararian coast. The Vesararian Empire prided themselves on their navy and was not to be trifled with.

He thanked the men for the news and continued on his way. When he got to the shop, Freesha was already cutting up meat; the left flank of a goat was already being placed in the fridge. "Baylion, back already," said the plump man without turning.

"Yes, I have more meat for you sir."

"Do ya now," said the butcher as he turned from his meat. His mouth dropped open when he saw the size if the animal. He laughed heartily.

"Where did you find such a fabulous specimen," he asked as he began to gain his composure.

"Two miles south in the Brill Mountains, I' have been tracking it for the past three days," said Baylion with a proud smile.

The old man nodded as if he expected as much," Well, I suppose I can dress him down right now. Help me put him on a hook," Freesha said with a chuckle.

Baylion helped place the creature on a hook and the butcher honed his skill taking off the fur coat.

"I was talking to some travelers this morning," said Baylion conversationally," did you know that King Talbany has taken over the Western Coast of the Vesararian Empire."

The man's brow furrowed in concentration," Did he now? I suppose it was only a matter o' time. I worked in the Kings court as a cook fer some time, the man was like a war god, always wantin' conquest."

"But what would possess him to take on the Vesararian Navy, that's almost suicide."

The man shook his head with a chuckle," Apparently not or else King Talbany would be dead right now."

The old man had a point; the Brekdom Empire must have had a serious advancement on battle.

Freesha was done removing the coat three minutes later. He wrapped it and gave it to Baylion along with ten Gil, the currency of the Gelatian Empire, where Faldor was located. Seven Gil was enough to buy him a full suite of armor. Each piece was gold and bore the seal of the Royal Gelatian Kingdom. A giant Crystal with three stars above it and a plot of land underneath it.

Baylion thanked him saying," Do you think Grithen has the place open?"

Freesha chuckled," He probably had Klint in there all night, babbling on about seeing the light."

Baylion laughed with him and left. He continued down the dirt path, the fur in his left hand. He pocketed the gold coins and took a left onto more worn main road. Twenty feet to his left, Baylion entered the pub; Grithen was still in cleaning the table tops.

"Ah, Hullo Baylion, I was hoping you'd stop by."

"Yes, and I brought fur for the traders when they arrive," Grithen took the fur as Baylion held it out.

The man took it absently and placed it in the back room," I suppose you want payment, huh."

Baylion smiled mischievously, and Grithen dug in his pouch to find his Gil. He gave Baylion seven more.

He thanked the inn keeper and walked out of the door back onto the dirt road. He now had 37 Gil, which was more than enough to pay for the sword he had wanted to get. He had seen it two weeks ago while the merchants were in the Central Plaza. It stuck out like a beacon to him.

The blade was ten inches wide and one inch thick, the blade was so long that the tip of it touched just under his chin. The handle was wrapped in leather that was stained blood red and was a whole foot and a half long. It was a magnificently carved weapon that was incredibly light, and at noon today, it would be all Baylion's. He continued in the same direction as he had came, heading for his home. It was originally his parent's home, but he inherited it when they were killed. It was a beautiful cottage in that lay shrouded by the mist if the Crystal Falls.

He got there seven minutes later and walked into his home. The fire was still smoldering. He placed two more pieces of wood on the coals that had formed in the fire place. It began to smoke as he walked up the wooden stair to his room. The wood creaked under foot. He came to the second level, and immediately to his left was the bathing room. Three steps ahead was his room, and at the end of the hall was what used to be his parent's room. He walked into their room, as he traced his hand over the jagged scar that crossed his right peck. It was about seven inches long, and one inch wide.

He was instantly taken back to that moment in time when his life was changed forever. He could see Faldor; smoke choked his younger self as he screamed for his parents; the potent fumes making his eyes water. The ground shook with thunderous force as the Minotaur's ran past and pillaged his home. He could see his parents running out of the house, the deadly flames engulfing them as they screamed in agony.

He could see his younger self become furious and run at the raiders. He grabbed a chunk of wood which was shaped into a crude weapon and stabbed one of the Minotaur through the heart. It was the clan leader's son. The Minotaur charged at him with a bellow of rage and his younger self jumped to the side. He wasn't quick enough and the Minotaur's right horn sliced open his chest. He got up and jumped onto the Minotaur, who was recovering from the previous charge and grabbed his horns.

The Minotaur bucked and ran, trying to release Baylion's hold, but in the end, Baylion would not be denied. He twisted as hard as he could and the great beast's head snapped sideways. Baylion came to his senses and felt tears well up in his eyes. He slammed the door, and went to take a bath; he wanted to forget those memories.

Once he was done, he went into his room and put on a new change of clothes. He placed his grandfather's sword at his side and put his red cloak. He walked out of the house after dowsing the fire. He could hear the merchants setting up their stands in the market square. The sound of metal spikes being driven into the ground filled his head as he walked towards the sound.

His brown leather boot clopped on the hobble stone ground as he came into the ally leading to the market. People were rising from their sleep, fires were beginning to burn. The day had finally begun.