Drums of War, Chapter 1- Aurora

  Smoke drifted lazily from every home in the mountain province, keeping out the constant, biting cold of the Norwegian winter. It was late afternoon, but the sun had already been completely covered by the clear, dark sky filled with stars. On the edge of the horizon was a flicker of green and blue. Through the darkness, and snow flurries,  a large man walked. Wrapped in thick furs and pelts, a simple fur cap adorned his head. He held a sack full of food and gifts in his right hand, In his left, was a small piece of carved oak wood. 

His heart was light, and his thoughts turned towards home. Up a snowy mountain path he trudged, his breath forming small clouds in front of his face. For the first time in months, he saw his humble home as he crested a ridge, and came down into a valley. Made of stone and wood, and covered with sod and turf, his home looked beautiful in the moonlight. Smoke curled from the fireplace chimney, reaching up to the stars. 

He smiled as he walked the cobblestone pathway to his home, and opened the door into the warmth and light of the fire. Everything looked exactly as he had left it. A small girl sat near the fireplace, and  tended the fire with a long metal poker. She turned as the door opened and the man entered the house. She sprang off the dirt floor and launched herself into his arms. Quickly dropping his bag, he laughed and spun her around and around as she cried and hugged him with all her might. 

"Father, you're home! I was worried about you. I always am when you go on those trips."

" I know darling, I know. But I have to go when the Earl calls me." 

He set her down and shrugged off his cloak and furs. 

"But it appears as though I have returned at just the right time! Have you so readily forgotten that it is your birthday? She gazed up at him with beautiful blue eyes and responded, "Of course not father, I wanted to see if you remembered."

"If I remembered? As if I would forget my only child's birthday! I have something for you.'

He knelt down, and opened his hand, revealing the wooden carving. She picked it up with delicate hands, and took in the image.

" It's mother, isn't it?" 

"Yes love."

"It's wonderful father. It looks just like you describe her."

And it did indeed. the wooden woman had a smooth, happy face, and plain clothes. Her kind expression radiated simple beauty. Just as the child's did. The girl stared at it for a moment longer and then took it to her bedside. The man unbuckled his belt, and set it on the small square table, and began digging through his bag, looking for the food he had bought in the market.

 He found the potatoes, carrots, and goat meat, so they made a stew to celebrate her 8th birthday.They chatted quietly over their soup and bread about their past months apart, and how the girl was doing. He smiled as she told him stories of when she had fought a village boy and won, and about her new friends in the valley. Soon, it was almost time for her to go to bed, and they cleared their food away. 

"I have one more thing for you." 

She looked at him with heavy eyes.

"Earlier today, I spoke with the skies. And they have agreed to dance tonight just for you."

She was instantly up, and pulling on her cloak and gloves from the chest by her bed. The man opened the door into the night sky, and his daughter bounded past him, into the cold.

He smiled once more, glad to be home, and followed the eager young girl outside. The skies were alive. Twisting and gliding across the sky were ribbons of greens and blues, bending across the mountain range. The reflection in the lake and the sparkling snow was breathtaking. Though a regular occurrence in the North, each of these "Sky Dances" was unique and mysterious. 

The man picked up his daughter and placed her on his massive shoulders, giving her a better view of the surrounding mountain. And the two stayed like that for a very long time, gazing up at the sky, waiting to see what it would do next. And every time another color flared, the elegant beauty in each band of color took their breath away.

   

Reviews

[Ryzo]

From reading this short, and beautiful prose. I can tell you that you've done well in your description on the winter scene. The story itself is touching and warm in contrast of the snow, wind and cold. A father and the love he has for his daughter is just what is needed at this time of year. As a father of a young daughter myself, it gave me a warm fuzzy feeling. The way you described the aurora borealis was fantastic writing. I hope to see more writing like that from you again, soon.

[Rowan Crow]

Thank you so much! I plan on adding a new chapter every week, but I need to get caught up a little, so I will be posting more tomorrow, and then every Wednesday for the foreseeable future. Thanks for commenting!

[Ryzo]

No problem, pal. I know it can be hard battling with the blank page. I, myself, have trouble just getting the time to sit down to write. What with a young family, a job that requires me to work unsocial hours nightsjifts back shifts & mornings and somtines working X10 days in a row. Its tough being a scribbler. but very rewarding once having written & producing work like you have here. Again; good job! I enjoyed reading it.

[BL]

Great descriptions and scene setting, like where you are taking this. I will look forward to seeing more