Cooper Russell Presents
A Fan Fiction Based On 'Fable:'
Prophecy
Chapter 1: Reflection
Picture in your mind a warm fire crackling gently as flames eat away at the wood. The perfect balance of warmth as it collides with a soft breeze that has found its way through the opened window in Arlet's room. Arlet was just a young boy when he could be found sitting beside the fireplace, scribbling away in his journal which used to be of perfect leather but over the years has been cracked and torn. Every night he would write in it, while his mother would always find it depressing as she sat in a wooden chair which cobwebs hung from chair leg to chair leg. Arlet's older brother, (by two years) Christopher could be heard most often teasing their younger sister about absolutely anything. But this never seemed to distract Arlet from getting out a good solid entry every single night. He was up later than usual, everyone was in fact. But that night was different...
Dear Diary,
Today is August 2nd, 1486, and it is exactly 11:08pm-way passed my bedtime. Normally I would be writing about another boring day of my life, but today is special. Today is my birthday! Yes, I, Arlet Anders have finally turned 14! My mother can't believe I'm growing up so fast, then again even I find it hard to fathom how quickly the days seem to be passing.
I found myself flipping through old pages before I wrote tonight, and I can't help but feel sad, for these are the final pages in my journal... I've grown so close to this old book, it will be hard to let it go. And I don't know if I shall start another. I still remember my father giving this one to me when I was only six years of age. That was the last time I ever saw him. He handed it to me full well knowing I was fearful that he may never return, and told me to write in it every night he was away until came back. I kept writing, and often I like to think I'm still waiting. Sometimes I pretend that any moment I'll hear a knock on that old rotting door of ours, and my father will be standing there...
Living in Albion hasn't been quite the same since then; the days seemed to have grown darker. My mother speaks of a chill in the air that seems to be ever growing. She knows it scares me when she speaks of such things, but she tells me that boys my age should not have to worry about anything. But I can't help it; there are rumors about of strange things, and evils creeping out from the wilderness. Old man Bartley at the docks keeps yammering on about the safety of our town. He says it's only a matter of time that our village is attacked. People doubt him; they say he is crazy... That Bowerstone has never had to think of any sort of danger... but I believe him. For some reason when he speaks... his wrinkled, round blue eyes are full with a certain passion, they scream truth. That is why I've been practicing as of late with my father's sword. I want to be prepared if such a thing should ever happen, so that I can protect my family. For it would be a shame if Christopher should lift a finger. It seems I do all the work around here, but even Tethilia helps me tend to the garden and she's half his age! But I'm not complaining, not too much. I see it as an honor that I've taken on the duties that my father once did.
I sure am writing of my father a lot... but I guess it is only fair since this may be the last entry I ever write. I know if I gave somebody a gift such as this, I'd like to know I was mentioned in the last pages. But maybe I should end things on a happier note...
My best friends Keller and Terry were invited over for dinner today, to celebrate my birthday. Though they didn't seem to think of it as anything special, because they had already turned 14, months before me. And Terry's mom even hired a Bard to sing a few songs for him at his birthday... it was great fun, but I still enjoyed mine. I know my mother tries her best with what she has. I've always been very grateful for everything I receive, no matter how small or grand that it may be.
I can still taste the tarts my mom and sister baked for me as well. We got to eat them after we were finished the roast, which was very delicious and tender too. But the tarts, I won't forget the tarts for days to come. The crust was perfect, not too hard but it also didn't crumble to bits if you picked it up. It was filled with berries, folk around town all pitched in from their gardens. Even grumpy Henderson pitched in a few of his finest, and he rarely helps anyone! It was quite an exciting day, one that I shall keep close in my thoughts.
But I should be getting to bed soon, my mom keeps sighing loudly and that's her warning before she starts to yell. Plus I want to get up early tomorrow so I can practice with my sword for a bit before I leave for church. I think I ought to practice a lot so that I can impress my teachers years from now when I go to the Heroes Guild, but not until I am good and ready. They are looking for new young boys with a strong back, and while I may not be very big nor strong, I think I am gifted with a blade. But my mom is now yelling so this will be it. Hopefully I will make a name for myself so that I won't have to write pages of myself anymore; rather word will spread from mouth to mouth all over Albion so that all will know the great name of Arlet Anders...
'Wow you really ended this thing on an epic note didn't you Arlet?' said Tegan. She stood there holding what looked to be a journal without a cover. The pages were ripped and tattered.
'Well what can I say? I was just a kid; I thought a lot of myself then.' Arlet quickly noted, as he thought back to the night he wrote that.
'And you're still full of yourself to this day!' Tegan joked and smiled. The glow of the fireplace lit the dark room and her smile. Arlet stopped rummaging through his old things and paused, gazing at his beautiful companion.
'What are you starring at? Your mouth is practically wide open! Is there something on my face...?'
'No..no..it's just, the fire lit you up so wonderfully, it just caught my eye that's all...' Arlet seemed to trail off his words near the end. 'I'm going to miss it...'
Tegan set down the journal and walked over to Arlet.
'Wait! Walk slower! My mom will wake up from the creaking, you always forget about the creaking!' Arlet whispered sharply. The day was late, and Arlet's mother didn't approve of having Tegan over at such a time. Tegan always had to sneak over, but she always woke up Arlet's family. The floor would send the loudest of cracks all the way up the stairs into the ears of his mother and siblings. Tegan then continued to creep her way toward Arlet and took a hold of his hand and placed it in the palm of hers.
'That's why we're going to make this night special.'
Arlet was quick to say, 'it already is special. I turned 17 today.'
'I know, but you're also leaving tomorrow... and I'd like us both to remember this night.'
'Don't talk like we won't see each other again, we will. I'm just leaving to be trained.'
'For those monsters you keep talking about? The ones that you've been talking about for years now? The same ones that have never been seen?' Tegan raised her voice; she seemed a little sensitive on the subject.
Arlet let himself out of the hands of Tegan. 'There've been rumors-'
'You and your rumors... that's all they are, rumors.' Silence filled the room; there was an obvious tension between the two. Arlet had been practicing everyday with his friends, fighting and using a bow. He wanted to then move to the Heroes Guild and be trained personally by the best. Tegan didn't like the idea, she didn't know how they did things there, if they would even let him leave, or allow visitors. She started up again, 'Don't you know how quickly words can change from a simple thief who attacks Knothole to it being a great dragon with wings that tower over mountains!'
'But the hero came to our village, he told us tales of what he saw! How can you ignore such things?' Arlet said.
'You speak of this hero as if he was your God; you're always on about this hero! What's so special about him?' Tegan snapped.
'He is no God; I know who my God is! Please do not confuse the two for it offends me.' Arlet said strongly, starring her in the eye. He was obviously very passionate about his faith, as well as the great hero that many had been talking about for years. If stories are true, it is said that this great hero struggled from nothing to become what he is today. Legend has it that his village was burned to the ground, and his family murdered by thieves. He has gone on to seek revenge and along his travels have encountered many a foe. He found himself in Bowerstone on many occasions, and he would visit the school from time to time. He told them stories of the creatures he had seen, and kept secret some that he feared.
Arlet turned from Tegan, looking at the small bag in which he was putting in possessions to take with him to the Heroes Guild. He was leaving the next morning with his friend Terry. 'Listen,' he began. 'I do not wish to argue on the eve of my leaving. You know how much I've wanted to do this, and you know that I have made up my mind, yet you try to sway me...'
'I do not wish to cause your mind doubt. But what I do wish is that I knew why you feel that you must do this.' Tears started to build up in the corner of Tegan's eyes. She moved herself closely behind Arlet, placing her hands on his shoulders. 'I do not want to see you go, and if not for the feelings I have for you, I would try my best to have you stay. But I'll support you in what you want to accomplish.'
Arlet turned around slowly, this time taking her hands in his and holding them tight. 'Let us not speak of the sad things to come, but remember what we have now, and make something of it.' They starred into each others eyes, as nothing but the fire crackling, and crickets outside could be heard.
'I love you Arlet Anders.' Those words had not yet been said by either of the two over the course of the year they had been together. His eyes lit up and he was mesmerized by her gaze. Wiping her tears away, he returned the heartfelt words, 'I love you too.' They both leaned in, delivering to one another a soft kiss, long and passionate, one to be remembered. Arlet lost himself in the kiss, and staggered backwards bumping into a small wooden stand. It was shaken, knocking over his sword that had been resting against the side of it. It hit the ground with a loud clang! Arlet cringed, and he and Tegan both froze.
'Arlet? Arlet is that you?' His mother spoke as if to be half-awake, groggy and slow.
'Yes mother, don't worry just go back to sleep.' Arlet said, then looking back at Tegan they chuckled together.
'Follow me!' Tegan abruptly said with excitement as she led Arlet out the door, running fast. They both were running in the dark, with nothing to guide them but the glow of the moon. Passing the noise of drunks and partiers at the pub which was most likely where Terry and Keller were for Terry's last night.
'Where are we going? What are you doing?'
'Just keep up with me,' she said as she let go of his hand, quickening her pace. 'You'll see.'
Arlet barely lost her through the darkness, as she was a fast runner. Her thick brown hair trailed off her head, blowing in the wind as she ran. Her dress was being tracked through the mud, but she didn't seem to care much. They ran from outside the city, which was frowned upon at nighttime and across the bridge that lay just outside the city gate. Soon Arlet found himself running on a path made of leaves, it looked a lot scarier at night. Tegan almost lost him when she took a quick right at a statue of a man pointing. Arlet never did know what he was pointing at. But before he knew it, they were at the spot in which they first kissed.
He came slowly to a stop as he saw Tegan sitting on the very same picnic table they carved there initials into, starring off into the distance. He walked up and sat next to her, not saying a word. They just enjoyed each others company, looking up into the stars and across the valley. It really was a sight to behold. She put her head on his shoulder and they sat in a silent bliss deep into the night.
The night had run very early into the next day, and Arlet walked Tegan home. Which was practically right by his, it was a small town. All of his good friends lived nearby. But it was nights like this, that made him second guess himself. They were few, yet bore large impact on whether he should leave or not. The town was now quiet, as Arlet reached his home. He thought it strange that this would be the last day he would be able to call this place that he had grown up in, home. This thought saddened him and that night Arlet went to sleep with a lot on his mind.
Usually he would sleep a peaceful rest, but tonight was different. Moments after he had fallen asleep a dream engulfed him, or more so a nightmare. It frightened him to the point that he could still vividly remember it when he had woken up the next morning. He could still see it; it was of him walking down a straight path. Eventually the path would lead to a fork in the road. The path to the right was narrow, but further down it he could see a great white light that stretched out far beyond his sight. The light warmed his heart, and sent peace to his mind. He then looked to the left, to see another path. This one was wide in space, and he could see others following this way but he wondered why. It was dark; it made his heart shrink as if terrified. It seemed to be the homes of many evil things, shadows showed there many faces. A man stood looking at him on this path. He wore black clothes; his skin was pale and his eyes piercing. Arlet squinted to see the man had scars across his face, and points were beginning to protrude from his head, almost breaking through the skin. The man reeked of pure evil, and then Arlet lost his breathe. For the man he was looking at, was of his own self.