Entering Oblivion.
He was about eleven leagues into the grasslands on the third day of his search when young Chelti Demio saw the first signs of humans. It was a time of early winter in Xandria, when light snow dusted the ground and there was little small game to be found for the mornings breakfast. And the cold air served him well as a constant reminder of that fact, all he had left from the beginning of his journey was a portion of a small loaf of bread to be ate sparingly, and when the scent of freshly charred meat had begun to lick at his nostrils, the hunger in his empty belly had awakened. He slowly approached the small drawn out encampment as to not raise the alarm of its occupants, There were ten or perhaps eleven men that at first sight appeared to be soldiers of some type or another. He pulled rein on the animal beneath him, as the first approached him cautiously, a short pudgy robust fellow with no hair began to feverishly interrogate young Chelti Demio. He had a drawn ax that made the younger man nervous.
“And who might you be young sir?” he enquired.
“I am Chelti Demio. I have come from Hoak village, near Pothium, I am looking for my father, he came here to the grasslands on a hunt two months ago and never returned home.”
The little fat man looked him up and down cautiously.
“Wait here young sir. I will get Felstus.”
He appeared through the doorway of the small hut, his shirt unbuttoned, his hair, long black and shaggy, was very unclean, he was broad at the shoulders, and had but one visible scar that trailed down along his left cheekbone, dark frightening eyes calculated every movement around him and over all, he seemed largely unaffected by the cold.
He slowly approached Chelti Demio.
“So, come looking for your father have you young sir?”
The boy nodded.
“Well you must be tired to have traveled all of the way from Hoak village, eleven leagues ride would make even the stoutest traveler weary. You must be hungry as well, come fill your belly and weave Felstus a tale.”
They cut him a fresh piece of meat and poured him a glass of what he could only imagine to be some type of ale. Still it was a meal fit for a king which his hungry belly happily accepted.
“So young Chelti, tell me about your father.” Felstus seemed genuinely interested.
“My father is a great hunter, perhaps the best in all of Xandria, he was set to go hunting at the proper time of the season, but my mother grew ill, and he was forced to care for her, her health returned so he got a late start , that was two months ago. He was a former member of the kings guard and a very capable fighter and hunter but his return is long past due so I came to find him.”
Treachery.
Felstus studied him, his knife slowly cutting through his fresh piece of rabbit, his eyes never leaving young Chelti Demio.
“So tell me young sir, does this father of yours have a name?”
“Modo.. Modo Demio.”
Felstus’s eyes narrowed.
“I know that name, boy, I don’t know how to tell you this, but your father is dead.”
Chelti rose to his feet abruptly.
“Dead?.. No. I don’t believe you! How could you possibly know this?”
Felstus stood slowly.
“Because boy. He was in this very village where you now stand. Or what’s left of it. Your father was out there in that field tending to a broken fence, when this village fell under attack.”
“Attack? By who?”
“Not who boy.. What. A Dragon, it came from Mount Gosia, it burnt everything, and when your father tried to help, it burnt him alive too, when we arrived here there was but one badly burnt survivor who told us the tale.”
“And how do you know it was my father?”
He pulled his hand from his lapel and extended it to Chelti Demio. In it he held a medallion that hung from a necklace made from fine leather.
“Because boy, he was wearing a medallion of the Kings guard, now, how many guardsman do you know roaming the grasslands?”
He sunk back down to the ground.
“A Dragon.. From Mount Gosia. Killed my father. ” his eyes swelled with tears.
“Then I will go to this Gosia and kill this Dragon!”
Felstus put his hand on Chelti’s shoulder.
“No boy.. You must go home. What you speak of is folly.. None dare test the perils of Mount Gosia or her offspring. Many a men have met with ill fates, attempting to brave the paths of Gosia, only one has ever survived there, you see boy, it isn’t just any Dragon that you seek. It is the Dragon called, “Asa.”
Scratchworks. A.B.T Copyright © 2007.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
