Gwen stood alone, in a forest glade. It had probably been beautiful
once, for tall beamwood trees grew so close together that she could not see
past them. Yet, the trees were dead, beginning to rot. The grass under her
feet had dried out long ago. In the center of the glade, one beamwood tree,
the largest one, grew. It alone was still alive, although it seemed to be
dying even now.
Gwen shivered. She wore only a cotton gown, ripped immodestly down her back to accomodate her wings. She should have brought her cloak, but it was still packed in her trunk. Her trunk . . .
She felt herself moving, almost against her will, towards the tree in the center. She had to heal it, to save it. How? She reached out to touch it. Her hands were so close, less than an inch from the bark.
Suddenly, the tree exploded in flames! Gwen flew backwards, her skin alive with a sudden crackling heat, her back slammed against a tree trunk. As she slumped down to the ground, the last sound to reach her ears was a cackling, mocking voice, calling her name. "Gwendolyn, Gwendolyn! Gwen! Gwe- en!"
"Gwen!" Sitting bolt upright in bed with cold sweat on her brow, Gwen was shaking. Brueyan was sitting at the foot of her bunk, trying to wake her up. "Thank gods, I have been trying to get you up for five minutes." Brueyan gave her his usual faint, reassuring smile. "Had a nightmare?"
"I'm fine," Gwen replied, trying her hardest to stop her heart from pounding. "Is it my turn to stand watch?"
"Yes." He rose as Gwen got up. "Would you mind if I watched with you?"
Gwen looked him over calmly and said, "You need to be alert tomorrow."
"I doubt that I will fall back asleep tonight." He was still smiling.
Gwen gave in and nodded. Brueyan politely waited at the door to the barracks while Gwen put on her breastplate, chain skirt, and greaves over her clothing and strapped her longsword to her side. She was about to leave the room.
WHAT ABOUT ME? CAN'T I COME?
LUIN, I WANT YOU TO GET SOME SLEEP.
WHAT DO YOU THINK I DID ALL AFTERNOON?
WELL, WHAT DID YOU DO SO FAR THIS EVENING?
YOU THINK I COULD SLEEP WITH YOU HAVING BAD DREAMS THREE FEET AWAY?
Gwen felt herself blush violet. DID ANYONE ELSE HEAR ME? WAS I SCREAMING OR ANYTHING?
NO, JUST ME AND ARWYN. NO ONE ELSE IS STUCK HEARING YOU PROJECT YOUR THOUGHTS.
Gwen sighed and opened Luin's cage, letting the little dragon fly up onto her arm. I SUPPOSE YOU CAN COME. JUST BEHAVE, PLEASE. NO TALKING WITHOUT PERMISSION.
FAIR ENOUGH, Luin replied from his perch on Gwen's forearm.
Brueyan seemed mildly surprised by Gwen's companion. "I didn't know you had a pet."
"Brueyan, this is Luin. Luin, Brueyan," Gwen replied with a rueful grin. She just hoped Luin would not forget his promise and start talking. Usually, only wizards and sorcerers had enough magical power to summon familiars, the small animal companions that were imbued with magical ability by contact with their masters. However, Gwen's heritage gave her a certain aura, and that quality had called Luin to her and made him more than just a messenger dragon. Now he could speak Dallornish, deliver spells for Gwen, and became much more pompous and egotistical as a result. Gwen generally tried to hide her connection with Luin, especially around those whom she worked with.
Brueyan returned Gwen's smile genially and held out his hand to the dragon, as though to shake hands. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir Luin." Much to the ranger's shock, Luin, who understood everything that had been said, put his left forefoot into Brueyan's hand and moved it up and down.
Gwen found herself blushing again at Brueyan's odd look. "He's, ah, very well trained."
Fortunately, Brueyan seemed to accept that answer, and the two walked up the two flights of stairs without another word on the subject. Brueyan opened the door to the watchroom and held it for Gwen.
The two sat in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes, and the lady knight began to dwell on the slightly musty smell of the small room. At last, Gwen had to say something. "Thank you for, um, keeping me company. It would be a long two hours to spend by myself."
Brueyan did not seem at all perturbed by Gwen's stammering. "I'm more than happy to be here with you, Gwen." The aasimar ranger just stared out the arrow slit, looking for a sign of trouble. Gwen resolved herself to doing the same.
Finally, she gave up in frustration. "I can't see anything out these slits, just the land directly in front of me."
Brueyan nodded. "Maybe we should go up on the catwalk."
Gwen started up the ladder. Brueyan followed, and the two were standing on the roof's battlements. The top of the tower ended in a point less than four feet high, but there was a walkway all around it, and three ballistae stood facing opposite directions.
The two walked silently on the battlements for half an hour, and Gwen let Luin stretch his wings a little. Her dragon would be able to do just as much surveillance as she could if allowed to fly off on his own. It was an uneventful watch; there was no movement, even though both Gwen and Brueyan had darkvision. Gwen sighed to herself as the winds of early autumn whipped her hair about. It was still technically summer, although the chill night air seemed to disagree. Gwen found herself shivering and wishing she had brought her cloak up with her, but it was still packed in the trunk under her bunk.
Somehow, Gwen had not noticed Brueyan moving to her side. She did notice, however, when the ranger unfastened his own cloak and started to throw it over her shoulders. "I really don't need-," Gwen tried to say.
Brueyan interrupted her, "You're shivering. I'm not." She accepted his simple answer and let him pin the cloak on her. When he had, he just looked at Gwen, his hands still on her arms. Suddenly not meeting her gaze, Brueyan smoothed out a fold in the cloak on her shoulder and seemed thoroughly embarassed. Then he looked up at her. Golden eyes, shockingly like those of an owl, met blue-violet ones with silver flecks. The moment seemed to stretch into time. The two leaned closer together.
From somewhere over their heads, a polite voice called out, "Kiss her already, would you?"
The moment had ended. Brueyan looked up in shock even as Gwen's head sunk into her hands. She knew she was blushing bright purple to the tips of her pointed blue ears. Through the cracks in her fingers, Gwen muttered coldly, "Luin, go down into the barracks, climb into your cage, and shut the door behind you. I will deal with you later."
Luin apologized telepathically, BUT GWEN, I DIDN'T MEAN TO SAY IT SO LOUDLY, I JUST-
Suddenly tired, Gwen couldn't even lift her head. JUST GO, LUIN. GO. The plump messenger dragon flew slowly and mournfully down the ladder hatch. Gwen sighed. "I'm sorry about Luin. He means well, I suppose."
"Why didn't you tell me you had a familiar? He is your familiar, isn't he." That was not a question, it was a statement.
"A side affect of being an aasimar half-elf, I suppose. But you're an aasimar too, and you don't have one. I guess there is just something wrong with me." Gwen sighed again. "Luin has been following me around since I was a little girl. He's my second mother, almost. He's been telling me to settle down since I enlisted in the Dragons, encouraging me to go back home and get married to a nice farmer. Apparently he's found a better plan for me." Gwen realized fully then what Luin had interrupted, and she felt her face flush an even deeper shade of purple. "I am so sorry," she muttered stiffly, feeling stark embarassment steal over her.
"Gwen, I …" Brueyan seemed about to say more, but at that moment, they both noticed something. Arae, the lesser sun, was rising. It should not have been up so soon. It would only be a half hour before the greater sun, Sirae, rose as well. "I'll go and wake up the men." He started to go, then paused. "Would you like me to make breakfast?"
"What? Oh, breakfast. Yes, of course. Go ahead." The tall ranger climbed down the wooden ladder into the watchtower. When he was safely out of earshot, Gwen used every curse word she had in her extensive vocabulary, kicked the tower repeatedly, though not hard enough to seriously hurt her foot, then proceeded slowly down the ladder.
Gwen shivered. She wore only a cotton gown, ripped immodestly down her back to accomodate her wings. She should have brought her cloak, but it was still packed in her trunk. Her trunk . . .
She felt herself moving, almost against her will, towards the tree in the center. She had to heal it, to save it. How? She reached out to touch it. Her hands were so close, less than an inch from the bark.
Suddenly, the tree exploded in flames! Gwen flew backwards, her skin alive with a sudden crackling heat, her back slammed against a tree trunk. As she slumped down to the ground, the last sound to reach her ears was a cackling, mocking voice, calling her name. "Gwendolyn, Gwendolyn! Gwen! Gwe- en!"
"Gwen!" Sitting bolt upright in bed with cold sweat on her brow, Gwen was shaking. Brueyan was sitting at the foot of her bunk, trying to wake her up. "Thank gods, I have been trying to get you up for five minutes." Brueyan gave her his usual faint, reassuring smile. "Had a nightmare?"
"I'm fine," Gwen replied, trying her hardest to stop her heart from pounding. "Is it my turn to stand watch?"
"Yes." He rose as Gwen got up. "Would you mind if I watched with you?"
Gwen looked him over calmly and said, "You need to be alert tomorrow."
"I doubt that I will fall back asleep tonight." He was still smiling.
Gwen gave in and nodded. Brueyan politely waited at the door to the barracks while Gwen put on her breastplate, chain skirt, and greaves over her clothing and strapped her longsword to her side. She was about to leave the room.
WHAT ABOUT ME? CAN'T I COME?
LUIN, I WANT YOU TO GET SOME SLEEP.
WHAT DO YOU THINK I DID ALL AFTERNOON?
WELL, WHAT DID YOU DO SO FAR THIS EVENING?
YOU THINK I COULD SLEEP WITH YOU HAVING BAD DREAMS THREE FEET AWAY?
Gwen felt herself blush violet. DID ANYONE ELSE HEAR ME? WAS I SCREAMING OR ANYTHING?
NO, JUST ME AND ARWYN. NO ONE ELSE IS STUCK HEARING YOU PROJECT YOUR THOUGHTS.
Gwen sighed and opened Luin's cage, letting the little dragon fly up onto her arm. I SUPPOSE YOU CAN COME. JUST BEHAVE, PLEASE. NO TALKING WITHOUT PERMISSION.
FAIR ENOUGH, Luin replied from his perch on Gwen's forearm.
Brueyan seemed mildly surprised by Gwen's companion. "I didn't know you had a pet."
"Brueyan, this is Luin. Luin, Brueyan," Gwen replied with a rueful grin. She just hoped Luin would not forget his promise and start talking. Usually, only wizards and sorcerers had enough magical power to summon familiars, the small animal companions that were imbued with magical ability by contact with their masters. However, Gwen's heritage gave her a certain aura, and that quality had called Luin to her and made him more than just a messenger dragon. Now he could speak Dallornish, deliver spells for Gwen, and became much more pompous and egotistical as a result. Gwen generally tried to hide her connection with Luin, especially around those whom she worked with.
Brueyan returned Gwen's smile genially and held out his hand to the dragon, as though to shake hands. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir Luin." Much to the ranger's shock, Luin, who understood everything that had been said, put his left forefoot into Brueyan's hand and moved it up and down.
Gwen found herself blushing again at Brueyan's odd look. "He's, ah, very well trained."
Fortunately, Brueyan seemed to accept that answer, and the two walked up the two flights of stairs without another word on the subject. Brueyan opened the door to the watchroom and held it for Gwen.
The two sat in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes, and the lady knight began to dwell on the slightly musty smell of the small room. At last, Gwen had to say something. "Thank you for, um, keeping me company. It would be a long two hours to spend by myself."
Brueyan did not seem at all perturbed by Gwen's stammering. "I'm more than happy to be here with you, Gwen." The aasimar ranger just stared out the arrow slit, looking for a sign of trouble. Gwen resolved herself to doing the same.
Finally, she gave up in frustration. "I can't see anything out these slits, just the land directly in front of me."
Brueyan nodded. "Maybe we should go up on the catwalk."
Gwen started up the ladder. Brueyan followed, and the two were standing on the roof's battlements. The top of the tower ended in a point less than four feet high, but there was a walkway all around it, and three ballistae stood facing opposite directions.
The two walked silently on the battlements for half an hour, and Gwen let Luin stretch his wings a little. Her dragon would be able to do just as much surveillance as she could if allowed to fly off on his own. It was an uneventful watch; there was no movement, even though both Gwen and Brueyan had darkvision. Gwen sighed to herself as the winds of early autumn whipped her hair about. It was still technically summer, although the chill night air seemed to disagree. Gwen found herself shivering and wishing she had brought her cloak up with her, but it was still packed in the trunk under her bunk.
Somehow, Gwen had not noticed Brueyan moving to her side. She did notice, however, when the ranger unfastened his own cloak and started to throw it over her shoulders. "I really don't need-," Gwen tried to say.
Brueyan interrupted her, "You're shivering. I'm not." She accepted his simple answer and let him pin the cloak on her. When he had, he just looked at Gwen, his hands still on her arms. Suddenly not meeting her gaze, Brueyan smoothed out a fold in the cloak on her shoulder and seemed thoroughly embarassed. Then he looked up at her. Golden eyes, shockingly like those of an owl, met blue-violet ones with silver flecks. The moment seemed to stretch into time. The two leaned closer together.
From somewhere over their heads, a polite voice called out, "Kiss her already, would you?"
The moment had ended. Brueyan looked up in shock even as Gwen's head sunk into her hands. She knew she was blushing bright purple to the tips of her pointed blue ears. Through the cracks in her fingers, Gwen muttered coldly, "Luin, go down into the barracks, climb into your cage, and shut the door behind you. I will deal with you later."
Luin apologized telepathically, BUT GWEN, I DIDN'T MEAN TO SAY IT SO LOUDLY, I JUST-
Suddenly tired, Gwen couldn't even lift her head. JUST GO, LUIN. GO. The plump messenger dragon flew slowly and mournfully down the ladder hatch. Gwen sighed. "I'm sorry about Luin. He means well, I suppose."
"Why didn't you tell me you had a familiar? He is your familiar, isn't he." That was not a question, it was a statement.
"A side affect of being an aasimar half-elf, I suppose. But you're an aasimar too, and you don't have one. I guess there is just something wrong with me." Gwen sighed again. "Luin has been following me around since I was a little girl. He's my second mother, almost. He's been telling me to settle down since I enlisted in the Dragons, encouraging me to go back home and get married to a nice farmer. Apparently he's found a better plan for me." Gwen realized fully then what Luin had interrupted, and she felt her face flush an even deeper shade of purple. "I am so sorry," she muttered stiffly, feeling stark embarassment steal over her.
"Gwen, I …" Brueyan seemed about to say more, but at that moment, they both noticed something. Arae, the lesser sun, was rising. It should not have been up so soon. It would only be a half hour before the greater sun, Sirae, rose as well. "I'll go and wake up the men." He started to go, then paused. "Would you like me to make breakfast?"
"What? Oh, breakfast. Yes, of course. Go ahead." The tall ranger climbed down the wooden ladder into the watchtower. When he was safely out of earshot, Gwen used every curse word she had in her extensive vocabulary, kicked the tower repeatedly, though not hard enough to seriously hurt her foot, then proceeded slowly down the ladder.