Dragon's Dogma - Newly Arisen
Chapter 1
The Village of Reaville
When the beast first appeared, none saw it except the seabirds.
A flock of seagulls were fishing, far out to sea, when a great crack suddenly appeared in the sky above their heads. Shrieking in alarm, the birds wheeled and scattered.
From within the crack, something was stirring.
Slowly, a beast emerged from the crack. It was covered in red scales and vicious tearing spines. In its mind, there was no thought. Only rage, bloodlust, and above all, a terrible, burning hunger.
It caught a scent on the breeze. Among the sharp, salty scent of the sea, it smelt something else. Warmth. Life.
The creature unfurled its enormous, bat-like wings and flew towards the scent. It could already taste the sweetness of blood. It could already hear the sound of beating hearts.
The people of Reaville were excited. It was a fine spring day, the new crops were taking well, and the newly born calves and lambs were healthy.
But that was not the reason for their excitement. With the coming of spring, that meant a very special day was here.
It had happened every year since the village was founded. In the past, it was known as the Day of Beginnings. Then it was the Day of Trade. Today, they simply called it the coming-of-age day.
Every year, in the first days of spring, all the villagers gathered in the square. There, all the children who had come of age in the past year would be presented with the tools of their new trade. The one who presented it would be the one who had trained them since they were young. Very often, it would be one of their parents. And with the presentation of the tools, the children would then become adults.
What followed was a day of festivities, celebrating the newest adults in the village. It was a highlight of the year for Reaville, and the entire village had waited for the thaw of spring with increasing anticipation.
Now the day was here.
Daniel had risen early, before the sunrise, so he could get to work on time. He had been to many coming-of-age days, but today was special.
Daniel had celebrated his sixteenth birthday last week, which meant that this year it was finally his turn. His turn to finally receive his tool and become an adult. He had barely slept the night before, too full of excitement.
But before the ceremony later that morning, he had to go to work.
For the past four months, Daniel had been apprenticed to Garret, the sour-faced village butcher. He had taken Daniel in reluctantly, only relenting after the village chief pressed him, and the simple fact that no one else wanted to work for him.
He looked up as Daniel skidded into the workshed he kept behind his shop.
'Careful!' he snarled, 'I have work enough without you knocking everything over.'
'Good morrow to you,' Daniel grinned, pulling on the apron that hung by the door.
Garret grunted and returned to carving the veal.
'The hunters brought in rabbits last night,' he said, jerking a bloodstained thumb to the back wall, where they hung.
'Skin them, gut them, and get them in the smokehouse. After that, polish all the knives in the shop. And sweep the floor!'
Daniel nodded and picked up a knife. Polishing all the knives could take hours, but he was careful not to complain.
Garret was a tall and lanky man, with greasy grey hair hanging in a straggling curtain around his head. He constantly wore an expression as if he had stepped in something foul. Long days inside had turned his skin a pallid, sickly yellow. His nature matched his appearance. Irascible and unkind, he had very few friends in the village.
But his skills as a butcher were the best Reaville had seen in many years. Daniel was relieved Garret had taken him in as an apprentice when no one else in Reaville would.
As he began skinning the rabbits, he glanced up at Garret. The butcher's back was turned to him.
'So, are you going to the ceremony this morning?' he asked casually.
Garret grunted.
'Perhaps,' he said.
Daniel smiled. Usually, Garret was nowhere to be seen on coming-of-age day. At least, not until the drinks started flowing. Daniel couldn't think of any other reason he would want to go to the ceremony this year, except…
Shaking his head, he made himself focus on the rabbits.
The sky was lightening by the time he had finished. Taking them outside, he hung them carefully in the smokehouse. He would have to check on them later, but for now, he had other chores.
Picking up a rag and the bottle of polish, he went back inside the shed to begin work on Garret's vast collection of knives. They were the butcher's most precious possessions. He could lose his legs, or his entire store could burn down. But as long as he had his knives, he could find work as a butcher wherever he went.
They were the tools of his trade, and Daniel knew Garret would skin him next if he dropped one.
Along with polishing, Daniel was in charge of making sure they were all of ready sharpness. He took his job extremely seriously, as he knew from experience that a single mistake could cost him it altogether.
Despite his best efforts to remain focused, however, Daniel found himself glancing out the window, again and again, hoping to catch sight of the preparations in the village square. The butchery sat on the slope of a low hill, giving a splendid view of the village of Reaville.
Reaville had begun some three hundred years ago. As the village elders told it, their ancestors were farmers that had been chased south by bandits. For months, they had tried to find a place to settle, but every time, the bandits would find and raid them.
Pushed to the brink of despair, the straggling group of about fifty men, women, and children trudged south, until they came upon the great southern mountain range. Knowing they could not possibly cross them, they had sunk to the ground in despair.
But then the young shepherd boy encouraged them to not lose hope and to make a stand. His words roused the travelers, and so when the bandits came, they were met with a defiant force. As the farmers fought back against the bandits, the royal army appeared, having followed the bandits south.
Together, they defeated the bandits. Then the farmers decided to settle right there and then, in the shadow of the mountains. They founded the village of Reaville. They built houses with trees from the nearby woods. They raised cows and sheep. And they waited.
They waited to see if they would survive, or fade away, like so many other villages had done.
But eventually, their perseverance was rewarded. The cows and sheep grew fat on the sweet grass, the clear streams, and the rich mountain air. Children were born, strong and healthy. More houses were built, bigger and stronger. Reaville thrived.
But the villagers never forgot their past. Every one of them was proud that they had won their place in the world and were always ready to defend it. Many of the families were direct descendants of the original settlers. Never forgetting how their ancestors had stood together and how they had built their home from nothing, the coming-of-age day had become more than a simple celebration.
For the village, it was a reminder of the strength of their community, and the passing on of skills was a promise of Reaville's future.
And today, it was Daniel's turn at last. He could barely contain his excitement.
'What was your coming-of-age like?' he asked Garret, who was still butchering the veal.
'My father dragged me out of bed at the crack of dawn and made me stand in the square for hours,' Garret scowled. 'Long-winded speeches and self-important brats, that's all it was. Ah, but the food…'
His face softened a bit.
'Whole roasted oxen, fruit pies, baked pumpkin. I had my first taste of wine that day. It was flowing like water. We got through four barrels of the innkeeper's best. No one went to bed until past midnight. My father was found the next morning in a hay loft.'
He looked at Daniel, and his face suddenly regained its scowl.
'If you've time to ask questions, you're not working,' he snarled. 'I want those knives gleaming when the shop opens.'
He stomped out of the shed and towards the shop, leaving Daniel alone.
Sighing, Daniel returned his attention to the knives. Sharpening and polishing them wasn't exactly difficult work, but it was incredibly tedious.
Daniel had been up since well before dawn, and as he sat there in the silent work shed while the sun slowly crept up over the mountains, his eyelids began drooping. As he put a knife down, he felt his head begin to nod. He fought to stay awake, but before he even realized it, his head had sunk to the table.
Soon, soft snores filled the work shed.
Daniel was somewhere very strange. He seemed to be standing in a wide field, but smoke billowed around him. The sky was dark, but he could see the glow of fires through the smoke. Muffled screams and the neighing of horses drifted through the smoke, but where Daniel was standing was eerily calm.
He looked up. Through gaps in the smoke, he caught glimpses of the night sky, with pale stars twinkling.
The screams grew louder. A feeling of dread emerged in the pit of his stomach, but he had no idea why.
A gale whipped the smoke into a frenzy, and Daniel suddenly sensed something enormous lurking in front of him, hidden by the smoke.
Far above him, two burning points of light appeared. A thunderous growl filled the air. A growl that seemed to speak of fire, death, and terrible, burning hunger…
With a jolt, Daniel awoke, nearly falling off his stool.
Heart beating wildly, he looked around. He was still in the work shed. Rubbing his eyes, he peered blearily through the window.
His stomach dropped. The sun had fully risen while he was asleep. And from here, he could see the crowd gathering in the village square.
He leapt from his stool as if it were on fire, and leaving the pile of knives, tore out the door. Leaping over the low fence, he sprinted down the hill, towards the square.
In his mind were visions of him missing the whole thing, of Garret's look of disgust, of the other children giggling. It didn't bear thinking about.
He ran past the tanner's, past the grocer's, the blacksmith's, and the potter's. He nearly knocked over Roland, the old woodcarver, as he made his slow way to the square.
Finally, lungs burning, he skidded into the square. Most of the village were already there. The head was standing up on the wooden platform that served as a stage and had been erected last night. He was in the middle of his speech to the crowd.
'…we remember those, today, who toiled before us so we may live in peace and plenty…'
Quietly, Daniel slipped through the crowd to where all the children turning adults that day were waiting in a line next to the platform. Discreetly as possible, he joined the back of the line.
His friend, Emma, was waiting for him there.
'Where were you?' she whispered to him, as the head continued speaking.
Daniel shook his head, still trying to catch his breath.
He peered at the crowd. He couldn't see Garret anywhere. A pang of worry hit him.
Standing up on his toes, he tried to see further. As he did, he caught sight of someone else.
In the middle of the crowd was his mother, Jill. Straight-backed and in a patchworked dress, the village weaver was easy to spot in a crowd.
Spotting Daniel, she smiled and waved at him. Next to her was Daniel's younger sister, Lily.
Lily looked restless, pulling at her mother's hand, clearly wanting to go join her friends. But Jill kept a firm hold on her.
Daniel tried looking for Garret, but then the head was suddenly finishing his speech.
'…Today, on this anniversary of the day we fought for our freedom, we welcome our newest adults, as they begin their journey of carrying Reaville's flame into the future.'
He pulled out a list.
'First,' he read, 'Hewrey, with his father.'
Hewrey, a burly young man, stepped up onto the platform. His father stepped up too, from the other side. They met in the middle.
His father pulled out something from his belt and held it out to him. Hewrey took it. It was a blacksmith's hammer.
He held it up, as the crowd applauded and cheered. His father clapped him on the back smiling, and they both stepped down.
'Next,' said the head, 'Russet, with his father.'
Russet climbed up onto the stage, where he was handed a leatherworker's knife by his father.
'Mayra, with her mother.'
Mayra received a shepherdess's crook.
As the head slowly worked his way through the list, Daniel grew more and more anxious. He couldn't see Garret anywhere.
'Josua, with his master.'
Josua climbed up to receive his potter's brush from his smiling master.
'Emma, with her mother.'
Emma jumped slightly, then stiffly walked up onto the stage. Emma was the daughter of the innkeepers. Her mother was waiting up on the stage with an apron.
The crowd cheered and clapped as Emma took it. As she and her mother stepped down, she caught Daniel's eye and grinned.
The head was speaking again.
'Next, Daniel with his… oh… oh, um…'
The head trailed off as Daniel climbed up onto the stage.
'Yes, Daniel…,' he said to him in an undertone, 'perhaps we could just… well…'
He looked to the crowd for help. But they all had suddenly become extremely interested in their shoes or a cloud flying overhead. There was an awkwardness in the air, and no one knew what to say.
'Well, you see…,' the head whispered to Daniel, 'we thought that because of your… situation, it might be better to, um…'
'I'm apprenticed to Garret,' Daniel whispered helpfully.
'Be that as it may, Garret isn't here, so…,' the head trailed off, but they were interrupted by a shout.
'It's Garret!' someone in the crowd shouted.
Everyone looked around.
Shuffling through the crowd towards the stage was Garret, still wearing his butcher's apron.
Daniel's shoulders slumped in relief.
'Haven't seen you come to one of these, Garret!' someone in the crowd called out.
Garret ignored them and climbed onto the stage.
The head, looking mightily relieved, broke into a smile.
'Next, Daniel, with his master!' he announced.
Trembling with excitement, Daniel walked forwards. He could see his mother in the crowd, smiling and waving, with tears in her eyes.
Garret was smiling at him too. But as Daniel drew closer, he suddenly sensed something was wrong.
Garret's smile was wide, and it reached his eyes. But there was no warmth in it. Instead, it almost looked like a sneer.
Daniel stood in front of Garret, but the butcher didn't move.
'Um, Garret?' the head asked.
Slowly, the butcher reached behind him and pulled out something from his belt.
It wasn't a butcher's knife.
It was a string of meat, burnt black to the point that it resembled charcoal. After a frozen moment, Daniel recognized it as the rabbits he'd hung up in the smokehouse.
Garret dropped it unceremoniously at Daniel's feet. The crowd stared. Daniel felt sick.
'I have no need for apprentices that fall asleep over their work,' Garret spat. Then he turned on his heel and stalked off the stage.
'Oh… um… oh dear,' the head said anxiously as the crowd began to murmur. A couple of giggles were heard, and Hewrey snorted where he stood at the edge of the crowd.
But Daniel didn't hear any of this. There was a roaring in his ears as he stared down at the meat.
Slowly, he looked up. His mother's pale face was still visible. There were still tears in her eyes, but her smile was gone.
Daniel clenched his fists. He was shaking all over.
'Daniel…,' the head began.
But he never got a chance to finish, as Daniel suddenly kicked the meat aside and ran off the stage.
'Daniel!' someone called out after him. But Daniel ignored them, running away from the stage, away from the crowd, until he heard from the square was a faint murmuring like bees.
Daniel ran until the village square was far behind him. He let his panting and heavy footfalls drown out any other thoughts. Finally, when he had passed the last of the buildings and began climbing the hill towards the woods at the very edge of the village, did he slow to a walk.
He kicked a stone in anger and watched it skitter down the path. Honestly, what did he expect? Every time, something went wrong.
Daniel had been apprenticed to nearly every trade in Reaville. When he tried raising cows, he had accidentally left the gate open, and the herd had wandered into the village. When he worked at the potter's, he had tripped into a shelf, causing more than six months' worth of jugs and bowls to come crashing to the ground. At the stonemason's, he had almost crushed the mason's hand. And when he worked at the storehouse, he'd almost set the village ablaze when he accidentally dropped a lantern in the straw.
However hard he worked, misfortune always seemed to follow him wherever he went.
Garrett was the only person left in Reaville who would hire him. Daniel had lasted longer there than anyone else. He'd been so careful not to make any mistakes and work hard. And now it was over.
Daniel felt like screaming. He felt like punching Garrett in the face. He felt like punching himself in the face.
He entered the trees. The woods around Reaville were peaceful. Occasionally, wolves were seen, and they had preyed on livestock in the early days of the village. But the village had made efforts to keep the woods nearby clear, and now they were more or less safe. Only once had Daniel ever seen a wolf, loping silently through the trees in the distance. They were often heard at night, however, far in the distance.
Today, the woods were quiet. The shade was a welcome relief from the hot spring sun.
Daniel trudged slowly uphill. Birds chittered overhead, flitting from one branch to another.
After about ten minutes, he found the place he was looking for.
About halfway up the hill was a small ridge, clear of any trees. Scraggly grass grew across it and in the center stood a large stone.
About shoulder-height, the stone stood quite alone on the ridge. It was called the seeing stone, because when one sat on it, it gave a sweeping view of not only Reaville, but the fields, the woods, and the mountains. The view stretched for miles.
No other villagers knew about the seeing stone. When they were much younger, Daniel and Emma had both discovered it while playing in the woods. Since then, it had become their secret place. Thick trees growing just beneath concealed the ridge from the village. It was the ideal place to see and not be seen.
Right now, Daniel wanted to not be seen. He climbed up onto the stone and gazed out over the village. The bright clear sky gave a magnificent view, but he was in no mood to enjoy it.
Ever since Daniel could remember, the village had treated him like an outsider. They never spoke of it in front of him, but Daniel well knew the reason.
Daniel's family were not originally from Reaville. Ten years ago, on a sunny day much like this, a small group of travelers had arrived at the outskirts of Reaville. A six-year-old Daniel was among them. With him was his mother and his father, Syrus. A baby Lily was asleep in her mother's arms.
The young family had journeyed for many long dusty weeks to Reaville, where Syrus was to become the new village blacksmith. Finally, the village was in sight and the weary family cheered.
But as they did, Daniel heard a rustling in the trees lining the road. He turned.
Lurking, half hidden by the bushes, were small, sickly red creatures with beady eyes and gnashing teeth.
Goblins.
Daniel had given a cry, which had given his father enough time to turn and see the danger. In a flash, he had drawn his sword as the goblins had leapt, shrieking, onto the road. He shouted for his family to run, and Daniel had felt his mother's hand close on his arm.
They had then run for their lives, Daniel being pulled along by his mother. He wasn't even able to look back as the goblins' shrieks grew louder. Lily was screaming and Jill was sobbing in her throat. It was all Daniel could do to not trip.
They reached the village and called for help. But by the time armed villagers had reached the site of the ambush, it was too late. Among the bodies of several goblins was Syrus, his hands still clutching his sword.
They had borne him back, where they buried him in the churchyard. Syrus had died defending his family, who were now alone in an unfamiliar village.
There was no question, now, of them living at the forge. It was only due to the kindness of the innkeeper that they were able to sleep with a roof over their heads. Jill worked in the inn kitchen as a scullery maid, while Daniel was put to work cleaning the floors.
Luckily, Jill's mother had taught her weaving and she would repair the innkeeper and his wife's clothes. When the old weaver died, Jill was able to get herself appointed as her replacement and the small family moved into new lodgings.
Jill worked hard to scrape together enough to feed her growing children. Daniel did his best to help as well.
But with his father gone, it was hard. Daniel was supposed to help his father in the forge and learn the trade of blacksmithing.
But that was impossible now. The new blacksmith had no interest in taking on a new apprentice, preferring to teach his son instead.
Daniel was determined, however, and sought apprenticeship after apprenticeship. But they all ended in failure.
They had never said anything to his face, but Daniel could feel the eyes of the village judging him. He was the boy with no father, the boy with no trade. Who couldn't help provide for his mother who worked herself ragged every day. The boy who didn't belong.
Today was his opportunity to take his place among the village and prove he that he did. Now it was over.
Daniel drew his legs up to his chest and buried his face in his knees.
How long he stayed like that, he didn't know. He soon lost track of time.
The sun had risen to nearly its full height when he heard a rustling coming towards him. He looked up to see Emma stumbling out of the bushes.
'I thought I'd find you here,' she panted, brushing leaves and twigs off her dress. She was still wearing her fine clothes from the ceremony.
Walking over, she climbed up onto the seeing stone, and sat down next to Daniel with a sigh.
'Your mother's worried about you,' she said. 'She didn't know where you went, so I said I'd find you.'
'How… is she?' asked Daniel nervously.
'Absolutely livid,' Emma replied. Then seeing the look on Daniel face, she quickly added 'At Garrett, not you! After the ceremony, she yelled at him for ages.'
'What's Garrett doing?' muttered Daniel.
'Working his way through half our stock,' said Emma, rolling her eyes. 'I think he wants to pickle himself by morning.'
'And the others?' asked Daniel.
'Er, well… a lot of them were laughing. Hewrey's father and his cronies kept getting Garrett drinks. Everyone else was talking about it before I left.'
Daniel buried his face in his knees again.
'What are you going to do?' asked Emma eventually.
'I don't know,' Daniel replied, his voice muffled.
'Garrett was… out of line,' Emma said, trying to comfort him. 'My father was going to put cat droppings in his drink before my mother stopped him.'
'Doesn't change what happened,' Daniel muttered. 'I'm the first person in the history of the village not to have a trade.'
'You could always try the…' Emma trailed off awkwardly as she tried to think of a trade Daniel hadn't been apprenticed to.
'Everyone in the village has so much history,' Daniel sighed. 'Russet's family have been tanners forever. Even Mayra's flock are descendants of the first sheep in Reaville. I'm never going to be like them.'
Emma didn't know what to say to that, so they sat in silence for a while. They could hear the distant bleating of a sheep far below them. A cloud wandered lazily across the valley.
'I should go back, or they'll worry,' Emma eventually said, sliding off the stone. 'Are you coming?'
Daniel shook his head.
Emma awkwardly patted him on the shoulder before walking off back the way she came.
Daniel listened as the rustling faded, before leaning back and staring up at the sky. He tried to block all thought from his mind, but his head was filled with the faces of the villagers. Some mocking, some pitying, some sneering, some filled with disdain, and all with that same thought that he would never belong.
By the time Daniel trudged back down the hill to the village, the sky was already growing dark. He could hear laughter coming from the inn, and a couple of villagers were singing happily on the stage in the square.
No one saw Daniel as he kept to the shadows. Nor could he see Garrett anywhere. No doubt he was among the crowd at the inn. The thought of the innkeeper putting droppings in his drink made him smile slightly.
He slipped quickly down the street in the direction of his house. His mother would be waiting for him.
As he walked, wondering what he was going to say to her, he caught sight of someone stumbling across the road.
He immediately shrank back, before he saw it was Roland the woodcarver. Daniel hesitated, half of him not wanting to be seen by anyone, and the other half wondering whether he should apologize for nearly knocking him over earlier.
As he debated, Roland suddenly stumbled and fell, a pile of dark objects spilling from his bag in the street. Daniel hurried over.
'Are you all right?' he asked.
Roland looked up. There was a faint smell of drink, and his eyes took a moment to focus.
'Ah, Daniel. Yes, but my work…'
They looked down at the dark objects on the ground which Daniel now saw were small wooden carvings. He bent down to help pick them up.
'I had thought to sell some after the ceremony, but there weren't any buyers,' Roland sighed.
The carvings were all the different trades in the village. A carpenter and a grocer were tossed into Roland's old leather bag. The detail was exquisite.
Daniel glanced down and saw with a pang that he was holding a carving of a butcher. Quickly he tossed it in the bag, but Roland had seen.
'I heard about this morning,' he commented. 'Garrett's always been like that, for as long as I've known him. You mustn't let him get to you.'
'Doesn't matter,' Daniel shrugged. 'I still don't have a trade.'
'No,' agreed Roland, 'but I suggest going home to bed. Things often look different in the morning.'
Daniel nodded, not really listening. Possibly Roland sensed this, as he reached into his bag and pulled out a figure.
'Here, for your mother,' he said, pressing it into Daniel's hands. 'Now I'm going home to my fire. You should do the same.'
With that, he turned and slowly walked off, careful not to trip again. After watching him go, Daniel turned and continued on his way.
He looked down at the figure in his hand. It was of a weaver woman. Daniel noted with amusement that Roland had given it long, flowing hair and a graceful expression that his mother wasn't exactly known for. Clearly, the old woodcutter had a soft spot for Jill.
As Daniel got closer to home, however his smile faded. Faintly, he hoped that his mother and Lily had gone to bed. But those hopes were dashed when he turned the corner and saw a light in the front window.
Bracing himself, he walked the last few feet, opened the door, and walked in.
The fire was lit in the front room and a candle had been left in the window. Jill was sitting in a chair by the fire, carefully stitching Lily's dress. But when Daniel walked in, she jumped to her feet.
'Lily's asleep,' she whispered. 'Where have you been? Emma said you were in the woods somewhere. When it got dark, I was worried something had happened…'
'I'm fine,' Daniel replied quietly, pulling off his boots.
He could feel Jill's eyes on him.
'About today…,' she began.
'Can we please not talk about it?' Daniel interrupted.
'Well, I spoke to Garrett,' Jill said, 'and he's not going to take you back. I tried asking the other villagers, but no one was willing to take you on.'
Daniel grimaced. If it wasn't bad enough that he was the only adult in Reaville without a trade, now the whole village would think he needed his mother to fight his battles.
'Well, that's that, then,' he said through clenched teeth. 'There is no place for me in this village.'
'I'm sorry,' Jill said sadly. 'I know how hard you've worked.'
'For all the good it did,' Daniel said angrily. 'This place is never going to accept us, so why even try?'
Jill glanced at the fireplace, above which hung an old sword in its scabbard. His father's sword.
Daniel looked at is mother. Her patchwork clothes couldn't hide how thin she was. Despite still being young, there were already lines of weariness on her face. Her shoulders seemed very small.
Daniel hated seeing her like this. She worked herself to the bone to provide for them, but Daniel couldn't do anything in return. He braced himself for what he was about to tell her.
'I'm going to leave the village,' he said.
Jill turned to him. Her face was sad, but unsurprised.
'I'm not going to find work here, so I'll go to the capital or somewhere, and find it there.'
Jill closed her eyes for a long time, before opening them.
'We'll all go,' she said.
'No,' said Daniel, shaking his head, 'you and Lily need to stay. This is all she's known, and she can still have a life here. I need to go alone.'
Jill looked at Daniel. Suddenly her lip trembled, and she threw her arms around him.
'Oh…,' she sobbed, 'I hoped this would never come. I hoped you would find a place here.'
'Me too,' said Daniel, patting her back gently. 'But I don't have a choice.'
Jill nodded sniffling.
'Your father was the same,' she hiccoughed. 'He could never sit still. I had hoped he'd settle down here, but…'
She wiped her eyes and looked up at him.
'Don't leave straight away,' she said firmly. 'I'll put some things together for you, and you need to say goodbye to Lily. She needs to hear it from you.'
Daniel nodded.
'Alright, go to bed now.'
As Daniel turned away, he heard Jill sniffle.
Walking down the short hallway, he came to the door of the room he and Lily shared. Carefully opening it, he peered inside.
The room was dark. In one of the beds in the corner, a small bundle breathed softly. Lily was asleep, for which Daniel was relieved.
Quietly, he undressed and pulled on his night clothes. Then he crawled into his bed. The straw mattress was a relief after hours sitting on the seeing stone.
Daniel's mind was still swirling with thoughts, so it took him a long time to relax. But eventually, the events of the day caught up with him and he fell asleep.
Daniel woke the next morning to the sound of his mother singing in the kitchen. Blearily, he stumbled out of bed and pulled on his clothes. Lily's bed was empty.
Yawning, he made his way to the kitchen. Jill was singing over the stove. Lily was sitting at the table in the middle of her breakfast.
'Morning,' Jill said, without turning around.
Daniel yawned in response and sat down.
'Where were you yesterday?' asked Lily immediately.
'…Up the hill,' replied Daniel evasively.
'You were gone so long!' Lily said. 'What were you-?'
'Here,' Jill interrupted, setting a wooden bowl of porridge down in front of Daniel. 'Now Lily, I'll need your help today making deliveries around the village.'
As Lily groaned, Jill turned to Daniel.
'What are you going to do?' she asked.
'I guess I'll go to the inn,' shrugged Daniel.
Jill nodded.
'Say hello to Hanna for me,' she said.
Jill already had her hair tied back, ready for work. Her mousy brown hair was quite different from her son's. Daniel had inherited his father's much darker hair. Next to him, Jill and Lily's hair looked positively pale.
Daniel often wondered if he looked like his father. There were no drawings or paintings of him, and Daniel's memory of him grew blurrier every year.
All he remembered about his father was that he was very tall. But he wasn't even sure of that, as he had been only six at the time.
Lily, on the other hand, couldn't possibly be anyone else's daughter than Jill's. Both had the same long brown hair, the same rounded face, same pale skin, and small build. The only thing Daniel and Lily had in common were their eyes. According to Jill, they had inherited their deep blue eyes from their father. Jill had blue eyes as well, but hers were much softer.
Lily had deliberately begun eating her breakfast slowly, so Jill scolded her and told her to hurry up.
Recently, Jill had started teaching Lily the art of weaving. Lily would have much preferred running about the village with her friends, so it was only grudgingly she sat by the loom, listening to her mother.
Every week, they made deliveries to all their customers in the village. Lily would help carry the enormous baskets.
After Daniel had finished eating and cleared away his bowl, he pulled on his boots and made ready to go outside.
Before he left, Jill stopped him. She pulled him in for a hug and kissed him on the cheek.
'Who knows how much longer I'll be able to do that?' she sighed.
'I'll see you tonight,' Daniel said, walking out the door.
Outside, it was another fine day. The sky was clear and blue, and there was an early morning warmth.
Daniel set off down the street to the village square. There were already a few people about. The baker was displaying his wares outside his shop, people were leading horses down the street, children returning to their homes with buckets of water from the well.
All of them stared at Daniel as he walked past. They whispered to each other, and several children giggled. He did his best to ignore them as he reached the square.
On one side of the square was the largest building in Reaville. Three stories high, this long building of dark wood was one of the oldest in the village. The sign hanging out front read:
The Hog Horseshoe Inn
Daniel climbed the short flight of steps and walked through the double doors.
Inside was an enormous room filled with long tables and chairs. A large fireplace was down the far end. The counter ran along a wall, behind which an open door led to the kitchen.
'We're not open yet,' came a voice from under one of the tables. Emma emerged, a rag in her hand and her face shining with sweat.
'Oh,' she said, seeing who it was, 'come to help?'
Daniel nodded.
'Here,' she said, tossing him a rag. Then raising her voice, she shouted in the direction of the kitchen.
'Mother, Daniel's here!'
There was an answering shout from the kitchen.
Emma slid him a bucket of soapy water.
'Come on, we'll get this done quickly with two of us,' she said.
Dipping their rags in the water, Daniel and Emma scrubbed the tavern floor. It was filthy after last night's revelries and the water was soon black. After they had finished, they polished the tables and swept behind the counter.
It was back-breaking work, but Daniel was well used to it.
Ever since he was six, Daniel had worked at the inn on and off again whenever he needed money. More often than not, it was between apprenticeships. Emma's parents were kind enough to allow him, but they worked him hard. He had washed more dishes, polished more tables, served more meals, and cleaned more rooms than he could count. It wasn't long before he was sweating like Emma.
'I was talking to Mother and Father,' she said as she polished the counter, 'about taking you on as well. But they couldn't afford it. Sorry.'
'It's alright,' answered Daniel. 'I've got plans.'
'What?' asked Emma, looking up in surprise.
'Well…' Daniel hesitated. He hadn't said anything to Lily yet, so he wondered whether he should tell anyone else.
'You know what I think?' Emma said, as she turned back to the counter. 'I don't think Garrett had any plans to make you a butcher from the start. I think he just wanted to pay cheap apprenticeship wages.'
It was probably true, Daniel reflected.
He noticed Emma was already wearing her new apron. But instead of her fine clothes from yesterday, she was wearing her usual dull grey dress, patches courtesy of Daniel's mother. Her sleeves were rolled back, and her long black hair was tied up with a piece of cloth.
She wiped her brow and straightened up, easing her back. At the same time, Emma's mother emerged from the kitchen. Hanna was about the same age as Jill, but where Jill was thin and tired-looking, Hanna was broad and loud. Her face always seemed flushed red from cooking, and she filled the entire doorway on her own.
'How are my two tired little bunnies?' she boomed as she came through the door.
'We've finished here,' replied Emma. 'We were just about to start on the bedrooms.'
'You'll have to do that later,' said Hanna. 'The grocer's only given us half of what we ordered. I need you two to go and pick up the rest.'
'Oh, I can do the bedrooms while Emma goes,' Daniel said quickly, not wanting to be seen in public again.
Hanna shook her head.
'She'll need someone to help carry it back,' she said. 'You're not going to leave a girl to do it all by herself, are you?'
'All right,' Daniel sighed.
He and Emma put their cleaning supplies away, before walking out the door.
Daniel braced himself for the whispering and mutterings, but when they emerged outside, they were met with a surprise.
A crowd of people was milling about in the square in front of the platform. Standing on the platform were a group of three men.
They were dressed in armor, with sallets on their heads. Their fine red cloaks bore a golden crest. At each of their hips was a sword. Not dull and worn, like his father's, but sharp and gleaming.
'Those are soldiers, aren't they?' asked Emma in surprise. 'From the capital? What are they doing here?'
They drew closer to the crowd who were murmuring in concern, wondering what this was about.
One of the soldiers was speaking to the crowd, while the other two watched with steel grey eyes, their mouths hard lines.
'Hear ye, hear ye, friends!' the soldier called out. 'The prophets have spoken! The dragon's return is nigh! Join His Majesty's ranks and help us be rid of the fell beast!'
The crowd's mood immediately changed. Several people laughed and Daniel felt the tension drain away.
'The time has come to lay down scythe and spade and take up the sword!' the soldier cried.
'Ridiculous!' laughed several people. The soldiers scowled as people began drifting off, chuckling.
'Come on,' sighed Emma, turning to go. The two walked away from the jeering crowd, heading for the grocers.
Daniel well understood the crowd's reaction.
Every few months, someone would come to the village, ranting that a monstrous dragon was on its way. Some claimed to have even seen the beast. But these people were all inevitably found to be liars, either looking for attention or free drinks.
According to legend, dragons had been known to appear and bring death and destruction, before vanishing.
Only once, fifty years ago, had a dragon actually appeared in the land. It had wreaked havoc across the land and had nearly burnt the capital to the ground. But the armies of the land had banded together and defeated the dragon in what would become known as the Dragon War.
Since then, people had feared a dragon would somehow return. But none ever did.
Some people still liked to cause a stir, however, and claim it was returning. Reaville had grown tired of such stories.
'Honestly,' Emma sighed impatiently, 'why are they trying to scare us with those stories again? No one here has any time for them.'
'It's a little odd that soldiers are doing it, though,' Daniel mused.
'They've probably been patrolling and want cheap drinks,' scoffed Emma. 'Or some lord wants to build up his army. There hasn't been a dragon sighting in years.'
Behind them, the jeering of the crowd grew louder.
They were at the grocer's longer than expected. The grocer kept insisting he had delivered everything to the inn.
Eventually, an increasingly frustrated Emma had to pull out the receipt to show him what was agreed to.
As the scowling grocer stumped off to get the rest of their order, Emma turned to Daniel with an exasperated expression.
'He's never like that with Father,' she hissed. 'He just doesn't like women who can read.'
Daniel nodded absently. Not many people in Reaville could read. Most merchants and farmers knew their figures so they could tell if someone was trying to cheat them out of coin. But many people found reading useless.
Daniel and Emma could both read, however. Jill had taught them when they were little. They hadn't had much cause to use it, but Jill had insisted on teaching them regardless.
Garrett couldn't read, and Daniel suspected the fact that he could irritated the butcher.
The grocer stomped back out with two large crates.
'Here,' he announced, dropping them unceremoniously in front of them. Daniel hoped there weren't any eggs in them.
'Thank you,' said Emma testily, as they both bent down and grabbed a crate.
Staggering outside, they began making their way back to the inn. They couldn't hear the jeering crowd anymore. Perhaps the soldiers had given up and left.
As they walked, Daniel felt the eyes on him. People would stop and watch while he passed, while others would whisper to one another.
'They'll forget about it in a month,' Emma assured him, noticing what was happening. 'People always find something new to gossip about.'
'I hope so,' sighed Daniel. Then he remembered he was planning to leave soon, so it didn't really matter.
As they passed the tanner's, they suddenly heard the sound of crying. They looked around and saw a small boy hunched up in the space between the tanner's and the bakery.
Before Daniel knew what was happening, Emma had dropped her crate and was rushing over to the crying child. By the time Daniel had picked up her crate and stumbled over, Emma was already kneeling next to the child with her arm around his shoulders.
'What's wrong?' she asked gently.
'M-m-my cat,' he sobbed, pointing.
Not far away, a cat was lying in the dirt. It had a large gash in its side and was laboring to breathe.
'A d-d-dog attacked!' wailed the boy. He looked no more than five. 'It's dying!'
'Just wait here,' Emma said.
She got to her feet and went over to the cat. Kneeling, she peered at the wound. She was silent for a minute, then nodded.
'Keep him over there,' she said to Daniel.
She then clasped her hands and began muttering under her breath.
'What are you doing?' asked the boy through his tears.
'Shh,' Daniel said. As the boy looked up at him, he smiled and said, 'Just watch.'
As Emma continued to mutter, something strange started to happen. Beneath her clasped fingers, something began to glow. It was as if several fireflies were trapped in her hands. As they grew louder, her mutterings became a chant and the light glowed brighter.
Finally, Emma spoke a strange word and opened her hands.
Green light tumbled out from them in a stream, covering the cat. Soon the creature was surrounded by a pulsing green halo.
As they watched, the gash began to close. The skin knitted itself back together and fur grow over. Before long, the wound was completely gone.
The green light vanished, and Emma sat back in exhaustion.
The cat stirred. It raised its head and back at its leg in greatest surprise. Gingerly, it got to its feet and took a few steps. Then seeing it was alright, it gave a yowl of delight and ran around them at top speed.
The boy was staring, openmouthed.
'How did you do that?' he asked.
'It's a secret,' Emma smiled, putting her finger to her lips.
But Daniel knew.
It was magick. A rare art that let people draw on a mysterious power to do extraordinary things. People who could use magick could heal wounds or start a fire with a snap of their fingers.
Emma was the only person in Reaville who could do it. She had learnt from her grandmother, who was the village healer before she died. In her day, people would come to her from all over with all manner of injuries.
Now, people went to the physician. Magick took a long time to learn and no one else was willing. Emma's grandmother had died when she was little, before she could teach her everything she needed to know. But that hadn't stopped her from being determined to become the next village healer.
The boy cuddled the cat to his chest.
'Thank you,' he said happily.
'You've been practicing,' Daniel murmured to Emma, as the boy stroked his cat.
Emma nodded.
'Every time Mother or Father get a burn in the kitchen,' she replied. 'But… they don't want me doing it.'
Daniel nodded. Emma's parents were determined that she would take over the inn one day.
'You're no good at magick,' they would tell her. 'You're not like your grandmother, so stop messing about with this and help us with the inn.'
Absently, Emma picked at her apron.
'I've never healed anything like that before,' she commented. 'My hands are still shaking. If my parents saw me doing that, they'd- '
But what Emma's parents would do, Daniel never found out. For suddenly, the boy gave a cry of pain.
'He scratched me!' he wailed.
The cat was no longer sitting quietly in the boy's arms. It was suddenly writhing and yowling, as if its life depended on it. Its eyes were wide with fear and its teeth were set in a snarl.
It squirmed out of the boy's arms and, before they could stop it, it took off down the alley.
At the same moment, a sudden lowing and bleating was heard all around them. All the animals, all the cows, the sheep, the pigs, and the horses surrounding Reaville were screaming in terror. Flocks of shrieking birds filled the sky.
'What-?' Daniel began, but he was interrupted by a piercing human scream. Daniel and Emma leapt up and ran out to the street.
All over, people were trying to calm their horses who were rearing and neighing, their eyes flashing. Others were looking around for the source of the scream. As Daniel craned his neck, a sudden gust of wind swept and buffeted Reaville. Dust was kicked up in the sudden gale.
As the wind tore at their clothes, the scream was heard again. This time, they saw the owner.
Stumbling down the street was a woman. She looked to be a shepherdess. Her face was white with terror, and she could barely run steadily.
'It's- it's-!' she cried as she ran.
She suddenly caught sight of her husband, who was trying to calm their horse. Crying, she ran into his arms.
'Now, now,' the husband said gently, patting her on the back.
'It's-,' she panted. The villagers strained to hear what she was saying.
Then a gust of wind carried her next words, loud and clear.
'It's the dragon!' she screamed