The Truth of a Story

Chapter 1: The Truth of a Story

 

The Almanian countryside, 16 A.P.

 

She was running hard, over protruding tree roots and rabbit holes. She ran hard, but silently. Or, rather, almost silently. She looked over her shoulder for her pursuer. Unfortunately, she took her eyes from the maze of trees ahead of her and ran straight into a low hanging branch.

‘Ack!’ she yelled, as her head hit the unseen branch. She fell to the extremely solid grass-covered ground groaning, stars winking in front of her eyes.

‘I heard you, Andra,’ her pursuer teased. ‘I’m disappointed in you. I’ve seen you do much better than that.’

‘Oh, shut your mouth, Gryph!’ Andra said testily. She still lay on her back. Her head throbbed mercilessly. ‘Bloody tree,’ she grumbled.

‘That’s quite a nasty cut on you’ve got on your head,’ Gryph said sympathetically. ‘Fortunately, it shouldn’t leave a scar. You’re already ugly enough.’

The two laughed and Andra retorted, ‘A scar would be an improvement for you, right down the side of your face!’ She drew an imaginary scar from his left temple to his chin as he helped her up. She was feeling a little dizzy, so she accepted his help gratefully and leaned on his shoulder for support. Of course, Andra didn’t truly think Gryphon ugly. He was good-looking enough, tall and lean with broad shoulders and wavy, medium-length brown hair.

The pair then began the long walk back to Andra’s house. It was a very pleasant walk in the balmy weather, the cool spring breezes swirling around the two. Mother wouldn’t be happy when they returned, though.

‘Andra, dearest, how did you—what happened?’ Mother predictably asked when the two friends came through the door. ‘Gryphon, explain.’ Gryphon was the eldest and therefore usually held responsible for the mishaps that occurred, though Andra was the one who initiated most of their mischief-making campaigns. With the worry in Mother’s voice now edged with suspicion, Andra realised she was making a bad impression with the stains on her close and the leaves in her hair.

‘It’s alright,’ Gryphon said quickly. ‘She just had a small accident.’ Andra could hear the laughter in his voice and flashed him a mock glare.

‘What sort of accident?’ Mother asked, anxiety ebbing. She now sounded as if she were scolding two young children instead of questioning the two young adults in front of her. Many villagers would have argued that there was no difference between the two actions.

‘I ran into a tree,’ Andra said glumly.

‘Ah. I see.’ Mother sounded relieved as she brushed aside the hairs that had escaped Andra’s braid to see the scrape. ‘Annoying things, sometimes, eh?’ she laughed. ‘Are you alright, dearest?’

‘Yes, mother, I’m fine,’ Andra replied.

‘Well, now that’s settled. Gryphon, do you think your father would oppose your staying here tonight? It would be silly for you to leave tonight and come back early tomorrow morning to help with the horses. Help I am extremely grateful for, what with the sudden demand.’

‘No, Madam Aheron,’ Gryphon answered. ‘I told my father I might stay if it was alright with you.’

When Mother walked out of the sitting room, Andra picked up the rabbits she and Gryphon at caught while hunting earlier, and took them outside to clean them.

‘I’ll help you,’ Gryphon said, following her out.

‘Thank you,’ Andra said, slightly preoccupied as they sat and began to clean the rabbits.

‘Are you sure you are fine?’

‘Yes. I’m fine. I just feel a little woozy from the tree is all.’ The lie felt harsh rolling off her tongue, and she knew Gryphon heard it.

‘That isn’t all. I’ve known you for far too long to be so easily fooled. The truth, please?’

‘I’ve just been…a bit out of sorts lately. I…I have this feeling that something is going to happen, something important. It has been getting in the way.’ It was a strange feeling and it had her constantly looking over her shoulders.

Gryphon heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Good! I thought I was going mad! I feel it too. I wonder what it means,’ he trailed off quietly.

They finished cleaning the rabbits in a pensive silence and when they were done, went inside. Gryphon picked up one of Andra’s few books from the shelf he had built for her about a month ago. Andra put the rabbit meat into a boiling kettle of water and added some of the vegetables and Reyan spices Mother had bought the last time they went to market.

It was quiet until Gryphon said, ‘I’m going to go split some wood.’ He put down the book and stood up. ‘Call for me if you need anything.’ He walked out. Silence reigned again, broken only by the rhythmic thud of the axe.

Gryphon’s initiative to help was not unusual.; he stayed so often that he had started doing chores around the house that were generally a man’s job, like making repairs and chopping wood. What was unusual, Angara noticed, was that the wood box was already overflowing and she had heard no pages turning while Gryphon read. That’s curious, she thought.

About an hour later, as the sky began to grow pink with the setting sun, Andra walked down the hallway to tell mother that dinner was ready. The door was closed, so she knocked. ‘Mother!’ she called. ‘Mother, dinner is ready.’ No one answered. ‘Mother?’ she repeated. When she still received no reply, Andra opened the door. Of course there was nobody there, but Andra felt the need to make sure.

As she turned away, something else caught her eye. She saw a glint of metal from something sticking out from under her mother’s bed. It’s none of your business, a voice in Andra’s head told her. But she had to look; it pulled her.

Andra moved to investigate, but as she was walking toward the source of shining metal, Andra passed the window and caught a glimpse of Gryphon, bare-chested and swinging a wood axe methodically up and down in the steadily decreasing light. He will chop is leg in two if he is not careful.

For a moment, Andra watched him, watched his well-muscled arms and broad shoulders tighten and loosen with each swing. Seeing Gryph like this brought back all those years they had spent together as children, playing in Willow Pond and chasing each other through the forest.

The incessant tug of curiousity brought Andra out of her reverie. She walked over to Mother’s bed and looked under it. She reached under it and grabbed the small metal ball. As she pulled, Andra saw that the ball wasn’t a ball at all, but was in fact the pommel of a sword. Andra gingerly pulled the rest of the sword out by the hilt. It was warm, as if someone had held it recently.

The hilt was ribbed, except for the centre, where a sun was engraved. This tickled something at the bottom of Andra’s memory, but she couldn’t quite lift it to the surface. The hilt was made of the same finely wrought steel as the pommel. There was also a sun on the pommel. The crosspiece was black as pitch, as was the leather scabbard it was sheathed in.

Andra unsheathed the sword in wonder. She knew next to nothing about swords, but she could tell this one was of beautiful craftsmanship, no matter how simple and plain it seemed at first glance. Andra’s eyes travelled up and down the pace-long, slightly curved blade. They came to a stop at the pure white band just under the hilt.

Suddenly, she remembered. She remembered the legends she had heard about the Sun and Moon swords. She remembered one story in particular.

‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’

Andra spun around quickly, dropping the sword with a clang. Mother stood behind her, her eyes stern but a smile playing on her lips.

‘I-I’m sorry –’ Andra stammered. ‘I-I was looking for you, and something shined and caught my eye, so I went to see and—’

‘Shh. Calm down,’ Mother said soothingly. ‘It’s alright. You were bound to find it sooner or later. I would have preferred later, but – well.’

‘Mother,’ Andra started after a pause. ‘Where did you get this?’

Mother’s face looked determined and her voice became soft, almost sorrowful. ‘Around twenty or so summers ago, the humans and elves waged war with each other. I decided to become a soldier, and I joined the human military. I became a Swordmaster and met your father.’

Andra was shocked. Her mother hardly ever spoke of Andra’s deceased father, Pae’dran Aheron. Andra only knew that raiding elves had killed him.

‘I remember the story you told me, about the elf man and the human woman. She was you.’ It wasn’t a question, but Mother nodded anyway. ‘But you said her name was Eyrie. Why?’

‘I didn’t want to tell you then, so I said the first name that came to mind,’ Mother answered briskly. ‘Right now, that is not important. You must get ready to leave immediately.’

Andra’s head was spinning. Her mother was a soldier, and a Swordmaster at that. And she had to leave? ‘I’ve got to go where? Why?’

Mother paced across the wooden floorboards, worry etched in her features. Andra was still kneeling on the floor, sword cradled in her lap. ‘As I was on the journey back home,’ Mother started, ‘from the last battle, the one I told you about, I met an old woman on the road. I gave her food and let her camp with me until we had to part our ways. As it so happens, the woman was a Teller, a rare type of Mage who can tell the future. Before she left, she told me…that I would have a daughter—you—and when you saw my sword, I must send you off at once, without delay. If I did not, you would surely die. I left my home to come here, away from everything, so that you could be safe.’ Mother stopped pacing.

‘It is time now,’ she said. ‘Listen closely, this is important. Follow the road south until you see signs that point to a village called Lithe’s Bend. It shouldn’t be terribly hard to find; it is just in the first bend of the Lithe. Do not follow the river. The Riverwood is too dangerous at night for you alone; you would need an experienced guide. According to that same Teller I cannot go with you or you will fail. At what, I do not know. Pack some saddlebags full of supplies. You must leave as soon as it is dark enough to travel fairly unnoticed. That should leave about an hour.’

Andra’s body was shaking as she nodded and left her mother’s room. In the kitchen, Gryphon was already stuffing the saddlebags full of supplies.

‘I heard that you had to leave. Your voices carried through the window,’ he said, shrugging apologetically. ‘I thought that I had better pack up my things as well, since I can’t let you go on an adventure without me. Don’t want you to face anything dangerous alone, do we?’ He smiled wryly.

Andra had to smile back. Of course Gryphon would want to come. He was always trying to protect her from the various annoyances the world threw at her, from the ribald comments of the older village boys, to an unseen wasp’s nest. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, appreciating more than his company.

When Andra and Gryphon had finished packing, Mother came back out of her room with three swords, one of them the Sun sword.

‘You need weapons. You cannot go wandering the roads without protection. Take the horses and—’

‘Madam Aheron,’ Gryphon interrupted, looking out of the window, ‘there’s something out there. Maybe a group of somethings. It looks like they’re coming this way.’ He glanced anxiously at the older woman.

Mother walked over to the window, her face pale. ‘For the love of Solanis!’ she cursed. When she turned back to Andra, Andra saw that Mother’s face was paler still.

‘You two, leave, now. Get the horses out of the stables and go,’ Mother said. Andra heard the fear dancing through her voice. Mother gave Andra the Sun sword and Gryphon a shorter sword with a bronze eagle on the pommel. The third, twin to Gryphon’s, she kept for herself. ‘There is a score of draken out there. You two wouldn’t be able to handle one draken, let alone twenty. I will try to hold them off a bit so you two can get away.’

With that, Gryphon nodded and dutifully sprinted off to the stables.

‘One more thing,’ Mother said, stopping Andra before she could run after Gryphon. ‘I do not know what the Teller meant, but it might help if you found the elf with the Moon. Now, go!’

With that last cryptic message bouncing around in her head, Andra followed Gryphon. When she got to the stable, Gryphon had already saddled his own horse, a lean gray mare called Fog. Andra saddled her horse, the first horse she had ever bred on her mother’s horse ranch. He was pitch black, except for the white stripe down his nose, and was aptly called Midnight.

When Andra looked back toward her house for one last glance at the house she grew up in, she thought she saw the ghost of a shadow moving swiftly toward the oncoming draken.

‘Thank you, Mother,’ Andra whispered. For everything.

Author's Note

are you interested? does it hold your attention?

Reviews

[Chris]

Yes, this chapter was very interesting and it held my attention all the way through. I also liked how you ended so it can leave the reader in suspense. A few things I noticed though:

"'That's quite a nasty cut on you've got on your head,' Gryph said sympathetically."

You don't need the first on.

"Of course, Andra didn't truly think Gryphon ugly."

You need was/is after Gryphon, unless you're aiming for the caveman talk lol.

"Andra realised she was making a bad impression with the stains on her close and the leaves in her hair."

I think you mean clothes instead of close.

"When Mother walked out of the sitting room, Andra picked up the rabbits she and Gryphon at caught while hunting earlier, and took them outside to clean them."

Doesn't make much sense where it says, "Gryphon at caught."

"They finished cleaning the rabbits in a pensive silence and when they were done, went inside."

I think a comma might be needed after and.

"He will chop is leg in two if he is not careful."

Should be "his leg" instead of "is leg."

"...comments of the older village boys, to an unseen wasp's nest."

I'm not too sure on this one, but I think the apostrophe should be after the s. Wasps are usually in swarms, unless you actually are only talking about a single wasp having its own nest.

I also don't remember ever seeing a description of what Andra looks like. If she is going to be a protagonist, you should also describe her too so the reader can have some idea of what she looks like.