Chapter 1, Grave News - Jamie

Jamie here. ;) Well, turns out it didn't take me several days after all. :P First chapter, up and ready to go! ^_^ A little background information... this is my second novel I'm working on, which I recently found out is a prequel to my first novel, Daughter of Eurivion. So, second novel... it might become Prince of Eurivion, or I may have two prequels. At any rate, the temporary name is The Butterfly Jar. Which, really, isn't a great name in the least. But I had to have something to name the word document. U_U ... xD

While Lace is beginning a new novel right now, I'm currently on chapter 12. So this will be my editing motivation. ^_^ First novel I've ever edited, actually. *glances apologetically at DoE* Don't fear, dear DoE, don't fear... your time will come. 

So, without further adieu, chapter 1! =D

(1740 words)

Chapter 1

Grave news

“The destruction in Niluin was no accident,” said Hrail. “Algoth brought this about with the magic butterflies.”

Krinen gaped. “What is this you say, brother? Has the vault been compromised?”

The two men stood in the gatehouse of the small fortress. It is true: calling it a castle, stronghold, or fortress was more of a joke for them. More like an inn, it was! But the walls extended past the perimeters of the building, encompassing the entire village. They were sturdy walls.

Krinen took a sip of his cider and lifted pale green eyes to those of his brother-in-law. There was worry in his gaze, and something deeper than worry. Fear.

“Sit down,” he said, motioning to the empty seat and setting his mug down on the wooden table. The guard room was his living room, with a hallway leading off to the kitchen and bedrooms. The man spent most of his time here, as gatekeeper. Not a bad job to have, really. Many a quiet afternoon he spent playing with his children or dreaming with his wife; drawing up ideas and plans and diagrams, crafts and art, splendid tales of imagination… and more.

This guard room also served as dining room, and the half of the room closest to the door on the gate’s side of the house was not carpeted like the rest; but the far wall was full of bookshelves and works of creativity.

Hrail ran his hand through his dark hair and sighed, removing his belt and scabbard. He hung them up on a hook located on the wall after the bookshelf wall, near where a fireplace crackled and chuckled quietly to itself. Then he took the seat wearily. “Yes, the vault has been compromised. Doubly compromised. The jar of butterflies, the sword, the poison! Yes, he has them all. But worse than that, he also has the scroll. His last rebellion was bad enough, with merely the three magics. What will he be able to accomplish now that he has the scroll as well? What a blow this will be to my sister... and to us all.”

“Tell on,” said the gatekeeper gravely.

“Algoth acquired his magic just a week ago. You’ll remember that Lilisha and I chose the strong vault in Village Central when we locked these objects away. Village Central...” Hrail repeated, as if it bore some significance.  

Krinen rapped his fingers on the table, waiting for his friend to continue. He hadn’t told all he knew, that was clear.

“In his party there were three youths, two children, and another old enemy.” Hrail explained, “A duke in his usurped kingdom, a lad from Niluin, his niece and nephew, the son of Earvin, and... one other.”

“Yes?” said the gatekeeper. “Yes, who is this one other?”

“Has Lilisha never told you who Algoth is?” he asked softly.

The gatekeeper bit his lip. “It… it has never come up before. I didn’t know he was… someone with additional identity of any concern to us.”

“For a long time, he hasn’t been.” After adding an extra log, he returned to his seat. “But that has now changed. His niece and nephew are the children of his wife’s brother. But there was a third young woman with them. His own daughter, raised by his sister.”

Krinen nodded, taking in the information.

“He didn’t know that, though. He believed that she was taken in by an innkeeper. Having no desire to care for a wee child after his wife’s death, he merely kept an eye on her from a distance. But now that she is older… he has revealed himself to her and taken her from the boarding school where she now resides.”

“And she agreed to his dark schemes?” the man frowned.

“Yes, perhaps he thinks so. But it’s all an act on her part. She is an upright young woman. Short brown hair. Stern of face, firm and decisive. Slow to open her mouth, and always purposeful in speech. Finished the traditional education and went off to boarding school to study legends and history not two months ago.”

Krinen merely stared, unblinking, at Hrail’s face. What was he saying?

Hrail nodded. “Algoth’s full identity was never of any concern, until now. He is my brother. He is Lilisha’s brother. He is your brother-in-law. He is Ammay’s father.”

The fire crackled, a lone voice in a room suddenly grown unnaturally quiet. It was several moments before either spoke again.

“Ammay,” Krinen gasped at last, “My little girl…” he rose abruptly and stepped to the carpeted side of the room. There, he paced back and forth. His mind swept over the past 16 years, as if caressing each memory and looking at it with new eyes. “We have fled from the coming destruction brewing in Shryuin,” he heard Hrail’s voice, 16 years ago, the first time they had met; in this very gatehouse. “This is my sister, Lilisha, and our niece… Ammay.” The infant was not even a year old yet. By the time she was 2, Lilisha and Krinen were married; and she had a family. Two siblings were to follow. And always they had lived here, in the peaceful northern kingdom of Malthire. Krinen grinned as he watched his children grow, skimming over many happy memories.

Hrail’s careful voice called him back to earth. “How is it with your heart?”

“Shocking.” He sat down on the sofa. “Very shocking indeed. But it doesn’t smart. She’s my daughter, not his. I love her, he doesn’t. This changes nothing in my heart; save one thing.”

“And that is?”

“A stronger urge of protection than I have ever before felt is awakened. She can take care of herself, this I know, but that doesn't mean she doesn’t need me; and the walls of protection I can raise around her.”

Hrail nodded. “It is well. What will you do?”

The gatekeeper grinned. “There’s an obvious first course of action. We need to discuss this with Lilisha!”

**********

“But… but how did he break into the vault?” Lilisha was trembling, “And… how do you know all this??”

“I can’t tell you yet,” sighed Hrail, “not until a future revision of this draft. Perhaps then I will be able to give you the good news that I have seen and spoken with Ammay, and that is how I know of these things.”

Lilisha nodded in understanding, but threw her arms up in exasperation. “I wish she had come home. Why didn’t she?”

“Ammay is very unlike our brother in all save two ways. Appearance and will. She’s on a mission, Lilisha. We should be glad that she is right where she is, doing what she can to put a dent in his plans.”

Krinen coughed, indicating the small nightgown-clad figure in the hallway, and they both fell silent. “Do you need a cup of water, Liden?” he asked tenderly.

“No, Father,” said the little boy. “I’m frightened.”

He strode over and put his arm around his son’s shoulders. “What do you have to be frightened of?”

“I don’t know. That’s what scares me. Your voices… I couldn’t sleep, and… I can’t hear what you’re saying from my room, but the sound of your voices… Oh, Father, something is wrong! What is it?”

Krinen nodded gravely. “You’re right, my son. Something is wrong. Do you know what that means?”

The boy shook his head.

“It means that we all have an extraordinary opportunity to show great character. To be brave and strong. Just like day to day life, but amplified. It is in such a time as this that heroes may end up in legends. Do you understand?”

Liden nodded, and a dreamy look came into his eyes. “Like stepping into a storybook?”

“Precisely!” Krinen smiled down fondly and took his son’s hand, leading him back to bed.

When he returned, the council continued.

Lilisha’s voice was steady now, and she spoke. “Yet, how did he break into the vault? I don’t understand. It was sealed with solid rock! And the scroll was in a vault within the vault, locked by a combination that even I do not know. But they could not have reached it in the first place. I have the key to the outer door, right here on my-” she reached for the necklace around her throat, but stopped suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” asked both men at once.

“The key, on the necklace… I… I gave it to Ammay.”

Hrail whistled slowly. “That explains a lot. Did you tell her what it was for…?”

Lilisha sank onto the sofa on the carpeted side of the room with a sigh. “No… I only told her that it was a key to great legend, and she must keep it safe; and someday pass it on to her own child or other worthy keeper. But she’s heard all the stories. I’m sure she guessed just exactly what it was.”

“She would not give it to him willingly!” exclaimed Krinen.

“No,” agreed Hrail, “Not unless to not do so would bring about greater evil.”

Lilisha sighed. “All true.”

There was a silence.

“It’s hard to believe…” Lilisha said, “We worked so hard to bring these three objects to a place where their power could never be wielded again, and to make sure he never ever acquired the scroll.”

“More or less…” her husband agreed. “Never in our time, that is. Never again, until the land has recovered and they might be used wholesomely once again…”

There was a silence once again.

“Okay,” said Lilisha, “I know that this conversation will be much fuller in the second revision, but there is one more thing I want to talk about. Earvin’s son. Hrail, I thought Arlion was dead! Duke Soldor murdered him the night of the rebellion.”

Her brother nodded. “But have you forgotten? Earvin’s wife Krista escaped as well. They have another son now.”

She nodded with a sigh. “Earvin was the only one who knew the combination to the inner vault. He must have ransomed his family’s safety with it.”

“I can’t blame him,” said Krinen softly, “But what do we do now?”

“The scroll, the sword, the butterflies, the poison... they must all be returned to the locked vault, certainly!” said Hrail, “But, I would say, the most important thing is finding Ammay. She will have more knowledge of recent events, even if not the background to understand them.”