Chapter 2- A visitor

The town of Hillshade is visited by a strange man...

The sun rose high in the west, however the land beneath did not feel its warmth, due to thick grey clouds veiling the sun’s rays and condemning the beleaguered earth to a day in the dark. Hillshade began to slowly hum with activity, with red faced market traders filling their stalls with all manner of locally grown produce. Apples, carrots, cabbages, turnips and marrows combined to form a collage of purples, greens, reds and oranges. The market sparkled with life and color, as gradually the streets filled with the locals seeing to daily life in their own unique way, routines being carried out just as they had been since the town was built. The streets that just last night had been as quiet as a crypt, and about as welcoming in the torrent of rain and the inky black, were now a bustling hive of business and pleasure. Young children played chase amongst the towns winding streets as Mothers gossiped with each other over a morning stroll. The rain had ceased, but the earth would not so easily forget it as small rivers ran down the side of the road and puddles became the blight of the morning walker. The fear and worry of last night seemingly melted away as the town went about its business, the elderly gatekeeper almost felt foolish for his panic the previous night now the storm had eased its assault on the world all felt fine again, as the old man prepared to retired to his chambers for a well- earned rest he was disturbed by a firm knock on the tall wooden gate of Hillshade, they had a visitor.

Brant hobbled over to the peephole to get a better look at the visitor, reaching up with hands gnarled like old roots; the old man grasped the wooden lid and slid it back to be greeted with a keen eye looking straight into his own. The eye defied definition; it seemed to shimmer almost, like oil on a lake. The color shifting slightly with every movement, once green, then a light brown, at some times piercing blue. The eye seemed to carry with it age and wisdom, Brant could envisage the eye belonging to an elderly scholar or perhaps a pilgrim, they were fairly common round Hillshade since a shrine to the divine was only five or so miles west of the town. 

“Greetings my friend, what business do you have in Hillshade may I ask?” Brant said confidently and without fear.

 

“Greetings” the visitor replied cheerfully, his voice was deep and strong with good humor attached to it, but there was something else.

 “I shouldn’t be here for too long, I wish to speak with a man called Syrus; I was told he lived here”.

Brant pondered, his mind was perhaps not as quick as it once was but eventually the name rang a bell to the elderly guard. Syrus was a leather merchant; a very respected and liked man in the community, while Syrus was a capable leather worker, his work was surely not worth travelling all the way to Hillshade for? Brant wondered what this man’s purpose was.

“Very well, give me a minute to open the gate then friend”

Brant turned, grasping the smooth wooden wheel he began to turn the creaking mechanism and slowly the gate began to open, the rain had aided Brant in some way at least, since the water had lubricated the gates cogs, making the normally arduous task of opening the gate much easier for the old gentleman. Slowly the two heavy wooden gates swung invitingly open, revealing a tall man clad all in grey save for black leather boots adorned with shiny silver buckles. Brant was shocked to see that rather than an old pilgrim, what seemed to be standing before him was a young, tall and athletic man. The man confidently strode forward towards Brant with a broad smile splitting his face “Thank you old timer, but if I’d known the gates were so heavy, I’d have climbed them rather than leave you to do all the work”. The man shook Brant’s hand, and the old man felt the strength of the stranger even through his gentle grasp, the traveler seemed even taller than he first thought, looking to be around six and a half feet tall. “My name is Joxhn” the man announced without prompt as he released Brant’s frail hand. “Where is Syrus?”

Brant led the tall stranger through the winding streets of Hillshade, attracting all manner of querying looks and whispered comments from the town’s gossips and rumor merchants. Joxhn however seemed to show no care, and was very open and friendly with the townspeople, despite their far less than trusting gazes. Coming out of one particularly enclosed alleyway, the odd couple came out into the main market district of the town, where the fervor of a busy market afternoon was heavy and buzzing in the air, traders shouted and brandished fresh produce at the milling crowds while children ducked and dived through the stalls, sneaking apples and cherries as they went. “Syrus’s shop is just over there, past the stall selling all the wool” Brant pointed to the modest looking leather goods shop rather overshadowed by all the noise. Joxhn nodded, and then without another word strode off on his long legs through the marketplace throng. Brant watched him silently, as the man seemed to cut through the crowds effortlessly like a hot knife through butter. Joxhn stood inches higher than anybody in the crowd, and some undeniable charisma seemed to attract the eye to the tall stranger. Brant’s keen yet aged eyes watched the younger man until he crossed the threshold to the leather goods shop, before the old man turned away to get that rest he felt that he now truly deserved. 

Author's Note

"Joxhn" is pronounced Jock-sun