Dawn: After the Fall, the Falling of the Kings
~Book 2~
Chapter One~???????????
In a town, north of the Seclshun Sea by several miles, there lay a darkened tavern on a byroad. The tavern was two stories high and ages old. "The Willow Tree" it was called by the townsfolk and the old green sign that bore many chips and hacks. The sign creaked in the chilly autumn wind that dark night.
On the second floor of the inn, all of the windows were shut and curtained except for one. In this room, a person lay fast asleep on the couch beneath the window. This being was about as ragged as the couch it laid on. An icy breeze came in through the window as did moonlight by which the room was lit, tossing the figure's golden hair about its face, red from drunkenness. The person wore patched, green pants and a buttoned blue blouse with half of the buttons missing. The person had made several knots with the shirttails, showing a tan midriff. A brown cap lay on the floor next to a rum flask. This being was a girl but seventeen years of age, and she was named Anelawilla Senkin. She was lost in a dream.
"You're late," Anelawilla said, turning to a figure emerging from the woods.
The figure was a woman, much older than Anelawilla, but not so old as to suggest being elderly. She had a timeless, pale, comely face with auburn hair framing it. "I, unlike you Willa, do not resort to last minute tactics to fall into a Dream," said the woman in a dignified voice.
"Well at least I, unlike you Gwyn Moira, choose safe spots for Dream- speaking," Willa shot back.
Gwyn Moira sighed. "The last Dream I took you to was for your benefit," Gwyn Moira said calmly. "You must remember that the world of Erthia will not always be harmless."
"You nearly got us killed!" Willa protested. Gwyn Moira raised her eyebrow dangerously.
"If I remember correctly, you my lass were the one responsible for that incident."
"If we never went there in the first place---"
"It does not matter now," Gwyn Moira said quickly. Her little apprentice had quite a temper when she was fired up, and Gwyn simply did not have time for such things. That was what had gotten the two into trouble in the first place. "I have very little time on my hands, Willa."
Willa hung her head, but in a barely noticeable way. "Sorry mum," Willa said.
Gwyn winced, wishing Willa would use proper hienmenn. Mum was drunkard's language. "It is ma'am lass," Gwyn Moira corrected her yet again, "And I must go now. I will send someone for you. Look for the lad who is the Rhett warrior. Do not search for the wrong person. The King has many eyes and ears, and I feel we have spoken too freely even here in this haven."
With those departing words, Gwyn Moira closed her eyes and faded out of the Dream. Anelawilla sat down on the ground in hard thought. "Great," she thought to herself, "Just when I expect to get some answers for once all I get is riddles. What in the Oblivion is a Rhett warrior?" Anelawilla faded out of the Dream into sleep.
? ? ?
"Is this true, all that you have told me, boy?" an eager voice demanded of a cloaked figure.
"Yes, I'm sure of it," said the addressed "boy" listlessly.
"Good. for a mercenary. Now I want you to carry out the plan."
The listless tone coming from the blue-black hood changed. "For a price," he said.
"I gave you enough already!" the voice shouted, enraged.
The "boy" threw back his head and laughed. It rang throughout the great throne room. "I can and will take my business elsewhere, my Bakturrn, if you don't meet my request," he said.
Hesitation. "All right, you get fourteen hundreds more," the voice consented. "Now you hold your end of the bargain up."
The "boy" cracked him knuckles. "With pleasure."
* * *
~Book 2~
Chapter One~???????????
In a town, north of the Seclshun Sea by several miles, there lay a darkened tavern on a byroad. The tavern was two stories high and ages old. "The Willow Tree" it was called by the townsfolk and the old green sign that bore many chips and hacks. The sign creaked in the chilly autumn wind that dark night.
On the second floor of the inn, all of the windows were shut and curtained except for one. In this room, a person lay fast asleep on the couch beneath the window. This being was about as ragged as the couch it laid on. An icy breeze came in through the window as did moonlight by which the room was lit, tossing the figure's golden hair about its face, red from drunkenness. The person wore patched, green pants and a buttoned blue blouse with half of the buttons missing. The person had made several knots with the shirttails, showing a tan midriff. A brown cap lay on the floor next to a rum flask. This being was a girl but seventeen years of age, and she was named Anelawilla Senkin. She was lost in a dream.
"You're late," Anelawilla said, turning to a figure emerging from the woods.
The figure was a woman, much older than Anelawilla, but not so old as to suggest being elderly. She had a timeless, pale, comely face with auburn hair framing it. "I, unlike you Willa, do not resort to last minute tactics to fall into a Dream," said the woman in a dignified voice.
"Well at least I, unlike you Gwyn Moira, choose safe spots for Dream- speaking," Willa shot back.
Gwyn Moira sighed. "The last Dream I took you to was for your benefit," Gwyn Moira said calmly. "You must remember that the world of Erthia will not always be harmless."
"You nearly got us killed!" Willa protested. Gwyn Moira raised her eyebrow dangerously.
"If I remember correctly, you my lass were the one responsible for that incident."
"If we never went there in the first place---"
"It does not matter now," Gwyn Moira said quickly. Her little apprentice had quite a temper when she was fired up, and Gwyn simply did not have time for such things. That was what had gotten the two into trouble in the first place. "I have very little time on my hands, Willa."
Willa hung her head, but in a barely noticeable way. "Sorry mum," Willa said.
Gwyn winced, wishing Willa would use proper hienmenn. Mum was drunkard's language. "It is ma'am lass," Gwyn Moira corrected her yet again, "And I must go now. I will send someone for you. Look for the lad who is the Rhett warrior. Do not search for the wrong person. The King has many eyes and ears, and I feel we have spoken too freely even here in this haven."
With those departing words, Gwyn Moira closed her eyes and faded out of the Dream. Anelawilla sat down on the ground in hard thought. "Great," she thought to herself, "Just when I expect to get some answers for once all I get is riddles. What in the Oblivion is a Rhett warrior?" Anelawilla faded out of the Dream into sleep.
? ? ?
"Is this true, all that you have told me, boy?" an eager voice demanded of a cloaked figure.
"Yes, I'm sure of it," said the addressed "boy" listlessly.
"Good. for a mercenary. Now I want you to carry out the plan."
The listless tone coming from the blue-black hood changed. "For a price," he said.
"I gave you enough already!" the voice shouted, enraged.
The "boy" threw back his head and laughed. It rang throughout the great throne room. "I can and will take my business elsewhere, my Bakturrn, if you don't meet my request," he said.
Hesitation. "All right, you get fourteen hundreds more," the voice consented. "Now you hold your end of the bargain up."
The "boy" cracked him knuckles. "With pleasure."
* * *