literature

Chapter One- Well of Life

Deviation Actions

Captain-Savvy's avatar
Published:
743 Views

Literature Text

NaNoWriMo 2011
The Well of Life



Tybus: Chapter One:

Of all the taverns in the city of Wickriver, The Black Trough was most notably the worst. It was a ramshackle inn; the walls creaked and groaned even when there was no wind, and whenever it rained those unlucky patrons on the top floor would wake and find themselves the targets of leaks. There were holes in the floor and most of the chairs and tables were so rickety one couldn't be sure they would hold up through an entire meal. Even from outside it looked old and decrepit. Of course, the inn's wicked reputation didn't come from the sad state of the building alone, for although it was not well kept, the food was good and the beer was rich. The Trough was known throughout the realm of Eldarn as a den of debauchery, and a generally perilous establishment. The common customers were the seediest of folk; thieves, murderers, traitors, and all manner of unsavory characters no honest person would wish to dally with. Rumors of murder, dark magic, and worse happenings under that roof passed through the streets. No matter how it was sliced, The Black Trough was a place where few respectable people wished to end up

Rumors and reputation had never bothered Tybus Goldrunner, of course. The half-elf was, in fact, a frequent patron.  He stayed there whenever he found himself in Wickriver- which was rather often. With his stubbly beard, unkempt hair and devilish smile he certainly looked the part of a scoundrel, and he had been in enough bar fights that he knew how to hold his own. Those who knew him rarely bothered him, though, for they knew what he was. For one thing, he was wanted for various crimes- thievery, high on the list. That wasn't what he was known for, however. Some people called him a mage- but a merchant of magic is really what he considered himself. His elven kin, who dwelt beyond the borders of Eldarn and the realms of men, used magic for serious matters, but Tybus was interested only in putting gold into his own pockets. Magic was basically unheard of in the lands of men, and even those who loathed elves and half-elves alike came to him. His potions, poisons and spells could sate their greed, their lust, their deepest desires. It mattered not to him how ridiculous or devious their requests might be; as long as he could gain a pretty penny for it, he was content.

On this gloomy evening, Tybus sat alone in the corner of the Black Trough's common room, watching the other patrons. The place was bustling, full of unfamiliar faces; war raged on the borders of the country and many people who had fled the outlying towns and villages ended up in Wickriver. The town was nestled comfortably beside a small river and a dense forest, about a day's ride from the capital city of Chulhaven, and at a convenient meeting of three great roads- The Westway, Eastway, and Southway.

The barmaids were busy going to and fro between the customers, many who had expressions of woe and worry on their faces in the light of candles- but Tybus barely noticed that. The Dragonking, the guardian who had kept peace, had disappeared over a year ago. Men and elves waged a deadly war against each other, but the mage held no great love for either race. Why should he care? All he knew was that in times of strife, his business boomed. The roguish half-elf traveled from place to place selling his services and had no steady home- as had been his lot since boyhood. His only companion was his small pet dragon, Bean, who was curled up sleeping at his feet beneath the table.

As he sat there waiting for someone to approach him for a potion to bring sleep or to give strength in battle, Tybus listened to the wind howling outside, his dark eyes scanning over the room. He missed little, thanks to his elven heritage. With senses keen he observed, and listened. People spoke of the war ravaging the borders, of the evil of elves, and the failing crops. Some tried to discern where the Dragonking had gone, and why he did not return. Others gambled, or told distasteful jokes, and a few voices lifted in drunken songs. None of it was of much interest to Tybus. Bean shifted slightly, wrapping her tail around his ankle and resting her small head on his boot, her soft purr reaching his ears as well. It was turning out to be a boring night and he was considering taking his leave and heading up to his room to sleep= until he took notice when someone quote different from the other patrons entered the tavern. It seemed to be a man, though the figure was hooded and cloaked against the cold and wind outside. The cloak, however, was rich blue and of fine fabric- that much was obvious even from across the crowded room. The walk of the figure was firm and straight- clearly not a peasant or a war-weary traveler. Tybus smirked. The figure drew closer until it stopped at his table; the hood showed the tip of a neatly trimmed blonde beard and a frowning mouth.  

"Are you Tybus Goldrunner?"

The voice was soft but firm, with the tone of a young man but the coldness of someone worn with care. A soldier perhaps?

"Aye, that's the word on the street," Tybus replied with a slight grin, putting down his mug. "Leastways, you wont find any other half-elves in this town, or anyone who offers the same services. Have a seat, friend- if I can call you friend?"

"I would prefer it if you did not," the young man said without removing the hood. He didn't sit down, either.  "Is it true that you are skilled in magic?"

"I like to think so."

"Can you bring someone back from the dead?"

Tybus didn't answer right away, and his face did not show his surprise at the abrupt question. It was common knowledge that bringing souls back from death was considered a forbidden act among the few wizards of men, and even taboo among elven magi. That was not to mention how dangerous a thing it was for anyone. Tilting his head to the side, Tybus narrowed his dark eyes slightly.

"Of course," he said, "But that doesn't mean I'd be willing to do it. What would you be willing to pay?"

"Perhaps we should speak somewhere more private," the young man said. He lifted his head just enough for piercing gray eyes to catch the glint of candlelight. "My master is prepared to pay you handsomely, if you are able to take on this task."

"Aha, is he now? And who's your master? And who might you be?"

A barmaid brushed close by, her hair mussed and her face smudged from her hard work. The young man's mouth twisted into a slight sneer of disgust as though she smelled. "I will tell you all that you need to know, but not in this wretched place."

"Wretched? But the air is warm, the beer is cold, and the barmaids are friendly." Tybus lifted his drink and swirled the rich liquid inside, rather enjoying the stranger's discomfort. "This is my home for the moment, and it isn't kindly to insult someone's home if you're wanting to be business partners."

No reply was forthcoming; the young man didn't budge, but waited. The half elf drained his beer and put the mug down on the wooden table, studying the stranger. Yes, this was clearly no peasant, but obviously the servant of someone wealthy. Someone who wouldn't stoop low enough to enter the Trough himself. Who could this mysterious Master be? A noble or some such, certainly. Tybus was silent for a long moment, thinking. Bringing a soul back from the land of the dead was a great task, and one that involved great risk. In fact, he wasn't entirely certain he *could* do it. There was much he didn't know, and some things he only guessed about the process. Finally, he shrugged. "Sorry, sir cloaked and mysterious, but I don't think your 'master' would be able to afford my help with such a venture."

The stranger sighed in annoyance and leaned over, putting his hands (which were clothed in fine black gloves) on the table. "My master has offered ten thousand crowns," he said in a low voice, barely to be heard above the den in the common room, "He will pay half if you accept the task, and the rest once it is completed."

At this, Tybus couldn't contain his surprise. His eyes widened and he was hard pressed to keep his mouth from dropping open. Ten thousand crowns?! That was more money than he'd ever seen, much less imagined he could possess! At the thought of all of the wine and women he could have with such a haul, and of the fine carriage and expensive clothing he could buy, his misgivings about the stranger and the task he spoke of paled in comparison.

"I see I have caught your interest at last," the young man said, and straightened. He took a small red pouch made of fine leather from within the folds of his blue cloak, and dropped it on the table. "Five hundred crows here, if you will merely join me outside so I can tell you more about the task."

Tybus pulled the pouch to him and opened it, looking inside. It was full of golden coins- all crowns, the most valuable currency in Eldarn. His trained eye could tell they were authentic. He grinned in satisfaction and closed the pouch, slipping it quickly to his belt and fastening it there. He still felt wary, but the weight of the gold at his belt made him feel much bolder. Reaching below the table, "Bean!" he called, and put his hand down to the small blue dragon. She lifted her head and blinked her large coal black eyes at him sleepily, raising her small pinions and shaking them. "Come on," Tybus said, "We're taking a walk." She stretched lazily and then climbed up his arm, emerging from beneath the table to settle on his shoulder, wings folded as her tail curled about his neck. The sight of her made the hooded man stiffen noticeably; dragons were not well thought of by most.

"You don't mind my little girl joining us, now do you?" Tybus asked, standing and slinging his pack of supplies over his other shoulder, "She goes where I go."

"Hmm. I cannot guess why anyone would want such a creature. Just keep it away from me." the still un-named man said, and turned away. "Follow me."

Tybus threw a few silver coins on the table and walked behind the man, his free hand coming to rest on the hilt of his sword- just in case. Even with the tantalizing prospect of earning ten thousand crowns, the half-elf knew that he had enemies, and that he could very well be walking into some sort of trap. Still, if someone wanted to get at him there were easier ways than this- and the blue cloaked stranger was unfriendly enough. He didn't seem to be attempting to put on any sort of act.

Outside the wind was blowing cold and damp, and the stars and moon were hidden behind black clouds; rain was coming. Tybus could smell it and feel it, though he only noticed enough to hope that the rain would not start until he was warm and safe in his bed. He followed the stranger off the front porch of the Trough, stepping into the muddy street on which the tavern was located. Few people were out and about at this hour, and though light came from several windows it was quite dark.

"So," Tybus said, glancing at his silent companion, "Are you gonna tell me more about this 'task' you keep bringing up? If it's so bloody important. We're out of the Trough, like you wanted. I can't imagine there are any prying ears out in this weather." He pulled his cloak more tightly about his shoulders for emphasis. Bean chirped and buried her nose against his neck, not liking the wind anymore than her master.

"Oh, there is much to tell," the man said, and suddenly stopped in the middle of the street. Tybus halted too, raising an eyebrow in suspicion, waiting. It was clear the fellow was expecting something- and it came in the form of hoof beats pounding through the darkness. It was accompanied by the sound of wheels rolling and the crack of a whip. Around the corner there came a black carriage, pulled by large horses plowing forward so quickly Tybus feared they would be run over. He stepped back out of the way and found that the mysterious stranger was now behind him, blocking his movement.

"Wait," the fellow said firmly.  

"Friends of yours?" Tybus asked as the carriage came to an abrupt halt just before him. He didn't like the look of it- though it was obviously richly made and quite expensive, it was obviously painted to be obscured in shadow; the door was covered with a dark drape, but he suspected someone waited inside. Bean sensed his tension and stiffened, growling slightly with a sound much like an angry cat.

"Yes. My master will tell you everything that you must know. Step inside the carriage. Now."

Tybus frowned, bristling at being told what to do. "Your master ain't my master," he snapped, "And neither are you, duckie!"

Before he could turn away he suddenly felt a blade pressing into his back, close enough so that a mere flick of the wrist would wound him. Tybus's lip lifted in a snarl; how could he have been so careless?. Perhaps he was being tricked by an enemy and lured into a trap after all. Maybe he was being arrested, tricked by those who hunted him  "Oi, is it that way, then?" He looked over his shoulder, eyes burning, "This ain't good way to make friends, you know."

"We have no time to waste. Move. Now."


And so Tybus found himself more or less shoved into the carriage. Once inside he had to bundle Bean in his cloak to keep her still, so upset was she by the sudden tussle. The stranger climbed in behind him, the knife still dangerously close; the whip cracked, and the carriage took off again, rolling and bumping quickly along. For a few minutes there was no word spoken; Tybus looked at a second hooded figure sitting opposite him, shrouded in shadow and unmoving. The only sounds were those of the carriage and the horses- and Bean's protests at being swathed in the cloak, of course.

"So, you are half elven, as the rumors have said."  The voice of the second stranger sounded worn with worry and sorrow, but well spoken. "I am told you are the most skilled mage in all of Eldarn- though you waste your skill on trifling matters to earn gold for gambling. Is it because of your elven blood?"

"Elven blood? Pah.", Tybus glowered. "I work hard at what I do. Magic or no, it's a trade same as any other, and mine to do what I want with."

"And yet you have sold deadly poisons and potions that have taken lives. Do you not regret this?"

The mage tensed. "You seem to know a fair bit about me, so I think it only fair that you tell me something about yourself. I don't hold well with secrets and lies- crowns or no crowns. I'll take my crowns and depart, if I don't get some straight answers soon."

He could sense when the blue cloaked fellow tensed, but the other raised a hand to still any word before it was spoken.  "Our guest speaks truth, Anden. Light the lantern. If we wish to have his help, we cannot remain hidden."

"Yes, sire."

Sire?  Tybus was beginning to think he had bitten off more than he could chew. "Anden's your name then?"he smirked at the cloaked fellow, "Could have been polite and told me that to start with."

"The Black Trough is hardly a place for formal introductions." The lantern was lit and the orange light flooded the carriage. Anden pushed back his blue hood. He was, as Tybus had suspected, young and well groomed but hard looking. His eyes were blue and cold, and he looked greatly troubled. "I am Anden Darkwood, Captain of the King's Guard."

"A kingsman, aye?" Tybus was surprised, but it explained much. "No wonder you're lacking a bloody sense of humor. You louts get the fun beaten out of you at the academy, or so I've heard. And then who is your mysterious friend?"

The mage already knew the answer before it was spoken; it was quite obvious now. He merely smiled grimly when the king removed his own hood to reveal his aged face and white, neatly trimmed beard. A golden circlet sat upon his creased brow. In the gold there was set one red ruby, as red as an apple, and it glittered tantalizingly in the lantern light.  "I am Fredar, King of Eldarn."

"Charmed," Tybus said, relaxed enough now to release Bean. She chirped and twittered in annoyance and returned to his shoulder, though her black eyes never left the two strangers. "And who, pray tell, does the king of Eldarn want brought back from the dead?"


The king glanced at Anden and then sighed heavily. "My eldest son," he said, "Prince Gerold."

Tybus made no expression, but he was startled. He had no interest in politics or the matters of the royal family, but even he had known that Prince Gerold was the jewel of the kingdom. Kind, benevolent, yet powerful and fearsome in battle, he was the man all the men wished to be, and the one all ladies wished to marry. He was the hero who would lead men to victory against the elves- or so the songs said. Tybus had heard countless times the story of the Battle of Blood Hill, where Gerold had single-handedly defeated a wicked elf army- though it was mostly story, of course. What he had NOT heard was that the prince was dead.

"How did it happen?" the mage asked, and added, as if in after- thought, "Terrible sorry for your loss."

"The prince was leading a scouting party along the border near the river," Anden spoke up, his cold eyes showing anger and pain, "I was with him. We came upon an elf encampment, and the men wished to attack. The prince did not- but battle broke out, all the same. His highness was slain by a single wicked arrow."

"When was this?" Tybus asked, searching his mind for all he knew about necromancy. He did know that one could not wait too long to recall souls from the shores of death.

"A week ago today," Anden said; the king had bowed his head and would not speak. "All of the elves in the encampment were slain- save one, who we took prisoner. News of Prince Gerold's death has not gone beyond our small scouting party. Our enemies cannot know of his demise, and nor can our soldiers. It would be a crippling blow to the people of Eldarn, and I fear it would bolster the elves of Tawnfindle into victory at any cost. Prince Gerold is- was- the Captain of our armies, and the One to lead us to victory."

Tybus thought it was a foolish notion, to bring the precious prince back from death so that he could ride off to battle and be killed again.

"So, you want your princeling back from the shores of the dead," Tybus said, "And for that, you'll pay me ten thousand crowns?"

"Yes." The king spoke at last, raising his head slowly as though he was incredibly weary. "Yes. My son- my precious boy! He should not have died at the hands of those filthy heathens! His mother weeps still, every night. His brother is lost, and his dear little sister, Mona…. Bring him back to us, and I will reward you greatly."

"Why not command your own wizards to do the task?" the mage asked, though he felt he knew why. Still, he wished to learn all he could- and to make them squirm before he told them yes or no. They had not been so friendly to him, after all.

"My wizards? They know of the legends and have found many tomes and volumes detailing the spells," the king said, wringing his wrinkled hands, his eyes looking at Tybus but not seeing him as his thoughts wandered, "But none of them are powerful enough or- dare I say it- brave enough. It is forbidden, and a dangerous venture. Dangerous for many reasons, or so the legends say."

"Forbidden for many reasons as well," Tybus smirked, and looked out the dark window as thunder rolled somewhere nearby. The carriage still bumped along at a steady pace, slightly jostling its passengers. The lantern light danced. "The only place this side of the Sea where souls can be recalled is the Well of Life- and we all know where that is, don't we?" He grinned slightly, "Right in the midst of the Blackwind Forest- deep in elf territory. No human who wishes to live would even think about going there."

"But you are part elf," Anden commented quietly, "Though I suppose that does not mean elves will view you kindly."

"Most elves dislike me as much as most men dislike me. Half one and half the other, always losing with somebody" He snorted, "But for ten thousand crowns, I don't bloody well care if you like me or not."

"Does this mean you accept the task?" The king asked, refocusing his aged eyes on the mage.  

Tybus glanced at Anden, and the hilt of the blade glittering at his waist. "Do I really have a choice here, your majesty?" he asked, "If I refuse, would you let me step out of this carriage and carry on like nothing ever happened?"

"You are more clever than you look," the kingsman commented, "Of course we could not let the news of Prince Gerold's death outside of this carriage. What is more, if it were known that the king wishes to employ the forbidden arts and bring him back from death, things would not end well. The people look to the king for comfort in this time of war. They would not understand our desperation, nor approve of our choice. The common people are rather…"

"Stupid?" Tybus asked with a slight snarl, growing tense again. He did not like Anden's arrogance, nor feeling trapped. Bean whirred unhappily, puffing out a small cloud of black smoke from her slit nostrils.

"Superstitious," Anden responded darkly, "Unhappy, and easily upset. Even farmers and merchants from the borders have been called to take up weapons and fight against our enemies- enemies who use magic frequently. The people fear the elves already. They do not need reason to fear their own king."

"And it wouldn't do for some half-breed trash like me to go spreading rumors, is that it?" Tybus glared at the blonde man, "Will you kill me then, if I tell you to go to the Well yourself and leave me out of it? Or maybe cut out my tongue, or drive me merrily to your castle and let me live the rest of my life in some dungeon? Go shove your head into a dragon's mouth, duckie!"

"I should cut out your tongue to teach you some manners," Anden growled, "You are in the presence of your king!"

"I have no king."

"Please, do not be so hasty," Fredar reached out and dared to touch the half-elf's arm, turning his aged eyes to Anden, his expression pleading "We have no intention of harming you in any way, if there is no need, my young friend. If you do not wish to accept the task then so be it. You may keep the five hundred crowns for your silence, and go on your way."

"But Sire," Anden said, though his burning eyes never left Tybus, "Surely you cannot trust a mercenary of magic, a known gambler and rouge such as this?"  

"I will trust him, and so will you, Master Blackwood. However," here the king withdrew his hands and clasped them in his lap, still pleading, "I hope that we can still come to an agreement."

Tybus was thinking it would be wise to take the five hundred crowns and go on his way. This was all sounding too risky, and he didn't like this Anden character. Still, the ten thousand crown payment hung over his head and made it difficult to say no. His lust for gold was stronger than his distrust or misgivings.

The king continued.  "Tybus Goldrunner, Mage of Eldarn, I can see that you do not wish to call me king, or even friend. Still, there is no one else I can turn to, and I am desperate. If you will accept this dangerous journey, if you will go into enemy territory and call my son's soul back to the land of the living, I will double the payment for the completion of the task. Twenty thousand crowns shall be yours- and anything else you wish that is within my power to give.."

A sharp exhaling of breath from Anden showed his disapproval of this offer, but Tybus's lips lifted into a broad smile. That sealed it. It would be dangerous, and would test his skills, but for twenty thousand crowns he was willing to take the risk.

"Your majesty, I do believe we have an agreement," Tybus said, extending his hand to the king. The older man hesitated, as though unsure of touching the offered hand, but then took it and shook it firmly. He nodded his white head.

"Thank you, Master Goldrunner," the king said, "I will write a bank note for you in half the amount on the day that you set out. It would do you little good to try carrying around so much gold on such a trek."

"Indeed." Tybus reached up and stroked Bean's neck, encouraging a purr to come from her throat.  "When do you wish for me to set out? I'd like to have a peek at the stuff your wizards found, and some maps and things before beginning such a trip."

"Of course." The king settled back, his face relieved. "The driver will take us to my castle in Chulhaven tonight, and you may take tomorrow to do your studying. The day after, and no later, I should like you to set out."

The king glanced at his captain. "Capain Anden will accompany you on your journey. It is too dangerous for you to go alone, and I trust no one else but him with such a task as this. "

Tybus wrinkled his nose but didn't voice his displeasure. He supposed he could deal with the kingsman's arrogance as well, for twenty thousand crowns. "D'you know the way, then, Anden Blue-Hood?"

"I do not."

"You will also have a guide to lead you." The king knocked on the wall of the carriage behind him, signaling the driver. "Do you remember Master Blackwood's words about the battle at the border? The elf that was taken prisoner will take you on a safe route through ."

"An elf?" Tybus took Bean from his shoulder and put her in his lap, stroking along the edge of her folded wings- something that she quite enjoyed. "Are you really willing to trust an elf, then?"

"He has been promised freedom once he has shown you to the Well and out of the country again." Fregar's eyes burned at the thought of the prisoner. "He will do as commanded… But there are many maps and notes at your disposal, Master Goldrunner. You may study the path you think is correct and see if it matches with what the elf tells you. In any case, I will be glad to have him out of my dungeon."

Tybus fell silent. The carriage took a sharp turn and rolled through the streets, heading back to stop outside the Trough. The half-elf went inside long enough to pay for his room and gather his few belongings- he never kept much because he never stayed anywhere more than a few weeks- and return to the carriage. (He left Bean with Anden, who was quite unhappy with the arrangement.)

Rain was beginning to fall when he came back outside; a few large drops managed to land on his head before he was back in the carriage, after throwing his things onto the back and covering it with the oiled leather for such a purpose. There was not much talk on the ride to the capital of Eldarn; it was over an hour, and eventually the king dozed off. Tybus felt himself nodding, but he knew that Anden wouldnt fall asleep, so he didn't allow hsimelf to, either. His mind was busy thinking of the coming task. He would need to brew a few special potions for himself to use as protection, especially once entering elf lands. He was fairly gifted with a sword of course, but he truly hated getting caught up in hand-to-hand combat. He prefered to use magic and to fight from a distance if he could not talk his way out of  rough spot. It was very likely there would be fighting, especially since he wouldn't be going on his own and sneaking through shadows as was his usual way.

The storm shook the carriage as they went along, and Tybus almost pitied the driver (who would have been soaked already). The rain began to fall harder and harder until it came down in sheets; wind rocked their vehicle, and the noise as such that he could barely hear the horse's hooves splashing and slipping through mud. The pace hardly slowed, though, and it was shortly after midnight (or so he guessed) when they passed through the gates of Chulhaven. The capital city of Eldarn was large but this late at night the wet streets were empty, and only a few windows had light shining in them.

"Have you ever been to Chulhaven?" Anden asked, the first word he had spoken since they'd left Wickriver. His voice lacked the coldness it had been frozen with before. "You seem to be the traveling type."

"Aye, though it's been a while." Tybus drew aside the drapes and peered outside. "I came when they had that whats-it-called. Fire festival? With the blokes swallowing fire and spitting fire and dancing and twirling with it."

"Ah, yes. The Festival of Fire. It's meant to honor the Goddess Nireea, who Chulhaven counts as its Protector, but the celebration has become more of a mess than anything."

"Nireea is a mess herself," Tybus commented, "She would probably approve of the wild celebrating."  His lip curled at the expression of surprise that came from the kingsman. "Just because I'm the scum of the earth doesn't mean I don't know the gods and goddesses, bloke. Studied them long, I have, but they've never done any good for me."

"The Ancient Ones do as they see fit." Anden replied, and seemed at once to grow weary. "We have cried out to them to end this war, and to bring back the Dragonking, but our prayers have not been heard."

"No surprise there. I don't think they care much to get involved in the matters of creatures of this world." Tybus looked down at Bean, who was fast asleep on his lap, purring softly. She was a precious little thing, to be honest. Most people were frightened of her. It was beyond Tybus how people could hold the Dragonking - the enormous, fire-breathing beast who had dwelt in the mountains- in reverence, but hate lesser dragons.  "How did the war begin, anyway? I've heard a thousand different stories, but being a kingsman maybe you know the truth."

Anden did not answer right away, but seemed to be considering. He looked at the king, who still slept (or seemed to be sleeping). With a frown on his face, "The elves began it," he said, "When the Dragonking vanished, they began attacking the outlying villages. And to think, we once lived in peace, side by side."

"Peace?" Tybus snorted, "Even with the red dragon was still around, things weren't peachy between men and elves. They've always hated each other."

"Not always." the young man shook his head, "There were times of peace… but that was long before my time."
"And mine."

The carriage rolled to a stop; the sound of the storm seemed to have grown less, and Tybus suspected they had driven into a shelter of some sort. This was proven when he looked outside; they were in a carriage house, and the driver was climbing down.

"Sire," Anden spoke quietly but firmly, reaching out to gently shake the softly storing king, "Sire, we have returned."

"Mm?" The king lifted his head and blinked in confusion before his vision cleared and he cleared his throat. "Forgive me, Master Tybus," he said, "I lack the vigor that I had in youth, and the late hour and long days have left me weary."

"it's fine. Happens to everyone once in a while."

The events that followed seemed a blur; Tybus's few belongings were carried off by servants, and he himself was ushered into a doorway and down many grand corridors. The servant who lead him was short and fat with no hair, but a jolly smile on his round face- and he bobbed along with a speed surprising for his size and build.  He brought Tybus to a fine looking door and opened it, bowing aside to let him enter. The half-elf was still a little surprised by the turn of events, but a smile came to his face as he surveyed the rooms. There was a sitting room, a bathing room and a bed chamber- all connected by beautifully carved wooden doors, and all meant for him. The only other time he had seen such fine lodgings was when he had spent the night with a wealthy widow.

"Aye, the life of the noble," he murmured to himself, envisioning a fine mansion of his own. Grinning, he took Bean from her perch on his shoulder and put her on the bed, watching as she tested the softness with her feet.

"Sir?" the servant asked, then, "A bath will be right up, sir, and perhaps a bite to eat? It is late but you have had quite a drive this night. Very good, sir, I will fetch you some wine and a bit of toast. It will rest nicely on the stomach and ease you to sleep. If you have need of anything while I am away, simply ring the bell and help will come."

The half-elven mage did not see the king or the captain again that night. After the wine and toast (which he checked for any tampering, still naturally distrusting of others) he climbed into the luxurious bed with his pet dragon curled up next to his feet. Lying there, staring at the high ceiling and tapestries draping the walls, he wondered if he could truly adapt to living in such a place. There was a longing in the back of his mind for the old familiarity of a side street pub full of ruffians, drinking and laughing, and the noise of rowdy celebrations keeping him awake… and with thoughts of buxom barmaids and a sea of gold in his mind, he soon fell asleep. .  
Chapter One of my 2011 NaNo Novel: The Well of Life. little to do editing, so please pardon mistakes XD

The next chapter will feature Erias and Kaida :3
© 2011 - 2024 Captain-Savvy
Comments6
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
SlyFlySpyGuy's avatar
I'm definitely looking forward to the continuation of this (assuming it exists).