Too Early Gone
Chapter One: The Dream
He had a dream. In that dream, many creatures he had known visited him. The face of his grandmother was smiling down at him, lifting his spirits. Beside her stood a female mouse, one he could not remember. But he knew her. Her name was whispered in his ear like a song.
Sayna.
His mother was smiling as well, her bright eyes lifted by the sight of her full-grown son. He saw others too: Timballisto, Felldoh, Abbess Germaine who had died some seasons prior. He saw Boar the Fighter, his best friend Gonff, his own ancestor Martin who he was named for, and countless others. All of those he knew on the north shores, at Marshank, and Mossflower woods seemed to find their way into his dream. Even Brome and Pallum from Noonvale were there to wave at him. Only two were missing. Martin the warrior's heart grieved for the faces of his father Luke, and the mousemaid Rose.
"Martin." Martin's heart leapt to his throat as he felt the paw on his shoulder. A strong paw that knew the feeling of a sword against vermin throats.
"Father." he breathed more then said. Closing his eyes, he reveled in the contact he had with his long-dead father.
"You have done well, my son. I am proud of you."
Martin felt the tears coursing down his cheeks.
"I was not there for you. The day you met your end on the red ship. I know that you were waiting for me there. I failed you." he replied.
"Had you been there for me, you would not have found your way to Marshank, or Mossflower. So many others have lived because I did not. There is no failure in that. The warrior's path is not an easy one." the voice of Luke comforted.
Martin's mind drifted to the image of the mousemaid who had failed to appear in his dream. He saw for the thousandth time her body being thrown like a rag. And he saw her life slipping through his hands.
"I know."
With a sigh, Martin lifted his paw to lay it on top of his father's.
"How much time do I have, father?" he questioned, his voice almost pleading.
"Not enough."
With that last word, the dream disappeared, along with his father, mother, and friends of old.
Chapter One: The Dream
He had a dream. In that dream, many creatures he had known visited him. The face of his grandmother was smiling down at him, lifting his spirits. Beside her stood a female mouse, one he could not remember. But he knew her. Her name was whispered in his ear like a song.
Sayna.
His mother was smiling as well, her bright eyes lifted by the sight of her full-grown son. He saw others too: Timballisto, Felldoh, Abbess Germaine who had died some seasons prior. He saw Boar the Fighter, his best friend Gonff, his own ancestor Martin who he was named for, and countless others. All of those he knew on the north shores, at Marshank, and Mossflower woods seemed to find their way into his dream. Even Brome and Pallum from Noonvale were there to wave at him. Only two were missing. Martin the warrior's heart grieved for the faces of his father Luke, and the mousemaid Rose.
"Martin." Martin's heart leapt to his throat as he felt the paw on his shoulder. A strong paw that knew the feeling of a sword against vermin throats.
"Father." he breathed more then said. Closing his eyes, he reveled in the contact he had with his long-dead father.
"You have done well, my son. I am proud of you."
Martin felt the tears coursing down his cheeks.
"I was not there for you. The day you met your end on the red ship. I know that you were waiting for me there. I failed you." he replied.
"Had you been there for me, you would not have found your way to Marshank, or Mossflower. So many others have lived because I did not. There is no failure in that. The warrior's path is not an easy one." the voice of Luke comforted.
Martin's mind drifted to the image of the mousemaid who had failed to appear in his dream. He saw for the thousandth time her body being thrown like a rag. And he saw her life slipping through his hands.
"I know."
With a sigh, Martin lifted his paw to lay it on top of his father's.
"How much time do I have, father?" he questioned, his voice almost pleading.
"Not enough."
With that last word, the dream disappeared, along with his father, mother, and friends of old.