Tales of Cadence/Chapter I

Raven looked up the simple dirt path, shielding his eyes against the blazing sun. It was mid-afternoon and already searing hot. *‘How much longer until autumn...’* he wondered as he continued his walk towards the next village.

It had only been three years since he left home, but it felt as if he had been a mercenary for much longer. The courts of Itona had proved to be too formal for his liking; when he was fifteen, he left the safety and security of the castle and pursued a new life under a new alias. He was sure that his father had sent a sufficient troop of guards to search for him, but it wasn’t efficient enough. He obviously had more important things on his mind...like the inheritance of his eldest son, the successor of the throne.

Raven preferred his independent life to that of the court. He could move as he pleased, fight who he wanted, and spend his money as he willed. He put his hand to his almost empty gald pouch and sighed loudly; if only he did have money to spend.

*‘Joseph said he’d meet me up ahead in Adair. Hopefully the assignment he has for me today will pay well,’* Raven thought, clenching his fist as his stomach growled loudly. When was the last time he ate something that wasn’t dried meat?

The road became a slope rising to a grassy hill. Raven climbed to the hilltop, increasing his speed as he realized the village wasn’t far ahead. His sword swayed at his waist; it was a typical, simple weapon he had acquired within the capital city when he left. It was an easy steal from the lazy guards napping outside the castle gates.

A faint, cool breeze disheveled his already messy black hair. Raven’s dark eyes carefully scanned the valley below, looking for signs of bandits or traveling caravans. He seemed to be alone. He quietly descended the hill, following the dirt road to the small village of Adair, a farming hamlet not far ahead.

A faint moan reached his ears. “A...gh...”

Raven spun around, searching for the source of the noise. His eyes rested on the still form of a girl partially concealed by the long, swaying blades of grass. Very light, white-lavender hair concealed her closed eyes.

Raven dragged the girl from the grass and laid her out in the road. Her clothes – an unusual style, considering the area they were in – were ripped and torn in several places, revealing patches of pale skin on her lower legs and arms. Red scratches covered her small hands and face.

*‘What a weird-looking girl. I wonder if she’s elven?’* Raven considered as he pulled several gels and bandages from the pack on his shoulders. He pushed aside a few strands of her oddly colored hair; her ears were round, much like a human’s. She couldn’t be an elf, he realized as he wrapped her arms in bandages. When he applied the medical gels, the girl began to stir, but didn’t wake.

Raven sighed and picked her up roughly. *‘I guess I don’t have much of a choice...’* he thought, looking ahead to the village. *‘Looks like my first assignment of the day is babysitting.’*

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Raven took the papers on the table and carefully read the handwritten scrawl on the fresh parchment. “You know I hate these kinds of assignments, Joseph,” he said lazily, tapping the edge of the wooden table impatiently.

The middle-aged man across from him sighed exasperatedly. “You can’t afford to be fickle in times like these. It’s a simple job with a pay that will last you long enough to buy your own food,” he added, gesturing towards the half-eaten meal on Raven’s plate.

“Yeah, well, whatever. I could hunt something-“

“The last time you said something like that, you crawled back to me with an empty stomach,” Joseph said sternly. He pushed the papers back into Raven’s hands. “Take the job. All you have to do is go out to Birchmoor and escort a caravan traveling to Estershore.”

“That’s the thing, it’s too simple,” Raven retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “There will be almost no opposition on the way. If I’m lucky, maybe a bandit or dragonling will show up, but still.”

“You don’t take easy jobs and you don’t take overly difficult jobs. This is why you dress in those tattered rags and carry a rusted sword at your side.”

“But I’m your best mercenary. Even you’ve said that,” Raven pointed out smugly.

Joseph shook his head. “I’ve said nothing of the sort. Yes, you’re very efficient when you finally decide to honor us with your graces, but you’re far from professional. Many of the other mercenaries under my employ would be chomping at the bit to get a job like this; it’s fairly simple and pays well. Unusually well, I might add.”

“Yeah, well-“

“You’re lucky I employed you when you were so young, or else you probably would have returned home, wouldn’t you?”

Raven glared. “I hate it when you bring that up. I wouldn’t have gone home, my dad wouldn’t let me hear the end of it. And my mother...ugh. It would be sickening.”

“Exactly. So cut me some slack and take this job so I don’t have to feed you again,” Joseph said, placing a hand on the job papers. “You’re eighteen, nearly an adult. So act like one.”

Raven rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. “All right! You win this time, old man. I’ll take the job, but I’m not going to like it.”

Joseph smiled and stood up. “Very good, very good. I’ll meet up with you again in Estershore to collect my share of the pay and give you another job...if I have one.”

“Make sure it’s good this time!” Raven called. Joseph gave him a halfhearted wave as he left the tavern.

Raven sighed and picked up the papers again, attempting to make an unenthusiastic effort to study and read over the description of the job he had just taken. “’Please escort this caravan from Birchmoor to Estershore on the given date and time. The pay of 1200 gald will be rewarded upon reaching Estershore,’” he read aloud. He folded the papers and placed them in his pocket, frowning as he placed his chin on his hand.

Raven had been working for Joseph ever since he had left his home; he was the youngest of the king’s sons. Despite the fact that he had cut his hair, altered his name, and dressed in a completely different wardrobe, people sometimes recognized him. Joseph had been one of those people.

“Excuse me,” one of the innkeepers from next door abruptly pulled him from his brief reverie. “You’re the one who dropped off the unconscious girl, am I correct?”

Raven nodded. “Yeah.”

“She woke up.”

“Okay?”

The woman frowned, looking somewhat taken aback by his attitude. “I just thought you wanted to know. You were concerned, perhaps...”

“Not in particular. But thanks for telling me anyway, I guess,” Raven replied, turning his attention back to the meal still sitting on the plate in front of him. The innkeeper muttered something unintelligible under her breath – although Raven could have sworn he caught the words ‘kids these days’ – and left.

*‘Maybe I should go visit- Nah, waste of time,’* he thought as he speared a piece of eggbear meat with a fork. After finding the girl on the road, he had carried her back and left her in the care of the innkeepers; they had been willing to take her in, for a price, of course. After paying the fare for the girl and renting a room for himself, Raven realized that the small leather bag of gald in his pocket would never be full.

He ate quietly for some time, listening to the idle banter of the patrons around him. The sun was beginning to set and the rowdier men finishing up a tiring day of work on the fields were beginning to filter in. Their loud, raucous voices filled the tavern as they seated themselves at the bar or the various tables around the room.

For a while, Raven was so lost in his own thoughts and observations that he didn’t notice a girl approach him from behind.

“Uhm...” she spoke quietly and tapped his shoulder gently. “Excuse me...”

Her unexpected motion caused him to jump and spill the cup of water he had been holding in one hand. The girl gasped and stepped backwards as the liquid splattered across the papers, making the dark ink run off the parchment.

“Damn it!” Raven hissed, hurrying to pick up the job papers before the water could completely wash off the text. He spun around, muttering a chain of vicious curses.

The girl stood rigid, stunned by his outburst. Her blue eyes were wide with surprise as she stepped back a few paces. “I...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you...” she choked out as Raven paused for a breath.

“You’d better be,” he muttered, looking back to the ink-black water now covering the surface of the table. “At least I memorized what was on those notes...”

“I just came to thank you for helping me earlier,” she continued, ignoring his harsh tone. Raven turned and got a better look at her; white-lavender hair, strange clothes.

“You’re that girl I found earlier,” he said aloud, half to himself.

She nodded excitedly. “Yes. I was traveling when a group of bandits caught me off guard,” she explained. “By the way, my name is Elsynne Neott.”

“Raven...Sendemere,” he replied, pausing hesitantly before admitting his surname.

“Sendemere?” Elsynne repeated, thoughtfully putting a delicate, pale finger to her chin. “Isn’t that-“

“Yes, it’s the same as the king’s,” Raven cut in quickly, eyes darkening. “Don’t press it.”

She forced a half smile. “I won’t. I just wanted to thank you for saving me, Raven.”

“I didn’t ‘save’ you, exactly. I just gave you a few gels and brought you to the village.” *And spent one hundred gald to rent your room, and used up the LAST of my gels left in my supply-*

“I really appreciate it.”

“Sure, fine.” Raven shrugged. Elsynne’s eyes widened again as he uneasily pulled at his shirtsleeves.

“What a peculiar marking...” she observed, pointing towards his upper arm.

“Oh, this?” Raven asked, pulling up the sleeve covering his right arm. A faded black mark had been burned into his suntanned skin. “I got it when I was a kid.”

“How so?”

“It’s just a burn.”

“O...Oh,” she murmured, seeming dissatisfied.

Raven bit his lip; she was beginning to make him uneasy. She looked much different than any normal girl he had encountered before; was that why he was so wary? But it felt like an irrational reason, even for him. “Listen, I’m going back to the inn. I’ve got a long walk tomorrow,” he said quickly.

Elsynne smiled again. “Really? Where are you headed?”

“Birchmoor, that town out south. I have a job to take care of.”

“If it’s not too much to ask...” she paused for a moment, playing with the frayed hem of her clothing. “May I travel with you? I don’t want to be attacked by bandits again...”

Raven grimaced; she was the last person he wanted to travel with, for any distance. “Well...”

“Please, just to Birchmoor?”

He sighed. “To be honest, I don’t need any deadweights following me around. I’m a mercenary and need to be on my toes all the time.” He said.

Elsynne obviously caught his minor lie. “A...mercenary?”

“It’s my trade, you see...”

“Oh, sort of like a bounty hunter?”

“In a way, I suppose...”

She reached in her pocket and produced a small bag. “I can pay you, if you’d like. One hundred gald for passage to Birchmoor.”

Raven arched an eyebrow. He needed money, especially if he wanted a meal when he finally got to the town. Before he could reply, however, Elsynne was already rifling through the bag. She let out a small gasp and pulled out several rocks.

“Oh... The bandits took it all...” she said sadly, letting the rock drop from her hand. She turned over the bag and several more rocks fell out.

Raven let out a long, low sigh. *‘Damn it, now what?’*

Elsynne looked somewhat embarrassed, still keeping her eyes to the ground. “If it isn’t too much to ask...”

“It will be,” he replied flatly, trying to ignore the stunned, hurt expression on her face. “Listen, I don’t have time to drag people around if they have no money to return my services. I’m sorry.”

“Please, Raven, just to Birchmoor. The town isn’t that far away. Please.” She begged, turning the full force of her eyes on him. “I swear I won’t be a burden! I.... I can heal!”

“...You’re a healer?” he asked skeptically.

Elsynne nodded quickly, realizing she had his attention. “Yes! I was born with the ability to invoke the healing arts. So if you’re hurt fighting during the journey, I can help you.”

“’Journey’?” Raven repeated, laughing somewhat harshly. “This isn’t a ‘journey’. It’s a full day’s walk from here to Birchmoor. That’s it.”

“Oh! That’s right...my mistake...” she said, lowering her voice. The smell of alcohol in the tavern was much stronger now, causing Elsynne to wrinkle her nose with disgust as the scent drifted through the room.

“Well...” Raven shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t used to be in any sort of commanding situation. “I’ll be at Adair’s village gates in the morning. If you’re not there when the sun rises, I’m leaving without you, whether you like it or not. Deal?”

“Yes, I understand,” she said, her voice still quiet. “I’ll be there, I promise.”

“Good,” Raven replied before turning to leave the tavern. He had his hand on the metal handle of the door when Elsynne stopped him again.

“Raven!” she called, much too loud even in the ruckus of the room. “Are you sure that mark on your arm is just a simple burn?”

He raised an eyebrow, confused by her sudden question. “Yes...?”

“You’re positive?”

He turned away, scowling. “Quite positive.”

Elsynne watched him sadly as he left the tavern and walked outside into the cool, crisp evening air. It had cooled off considerably since the heat wave that afternoon, and Raven hoped it wouldn’t be that hot during the walk to the town ahead. He hated that he had let Joseph talk him into taking such an easy, simple assignment; he probably wouldn’t have a speck of trouble the whole time, save for Elsynne’s pestering.

Then again...he admitted he felt some remorse after having rebuked her so bitterly. It wasn’t in his nature to trust and be friendly to others, not since he left the comfort and guaranteed safety of his home so long ago.  He was used to the false kindness of the clients he worked with; they thanked him, paid him, and sent him on his way. Although his off-putting personality had earned him few enemies, it earned him even fewer allies.

He briefly touched the sword at his waist. ‘Maybe I can get some practicing done before the sun sets,’ he decided, taking it by the hilt and drawing the blade. It was just as Joseph said – the sword was old and beginning to rust. Although Itona took pride in its weaponry trade, they never did supply the military with long-lasting weapons because they could afford to re-supply the troops at least twice a year.

*‘Maybe I should think about investing in a new sword...’* Raven considered, thinking back to the polished saber he had been given as a child. It was a tradition in the Sendemere family to take up swordsmanship and eventually join the royal army...but it was also one of Raven’s greatest nightmares. He cringed at the thought of being ordered around day in and day out, having to fight for his county...

He shuddered and tried to redirect his thoughts to the matter at hand; practice until nightfall. Ignore the past, keep your mind in the present. Pretend like nothing ever happened.

Raven looked over the simple, rustic village. Adair was one of the most well known agricultural areas in all of Austror. Even the elves – who took pride in their own farming skill – seemed somewhat envious of the humans living and farming in Adair. Raven wasn’t surprised to see a few elven families out finishing work in their fields.

The village itself was fairly small; there was only enough room for houses, several shops, the tavern, inn, and of course, the farmer’s market. Most of the people working the stands in the market were closing up for the evening, preparing for another night of rest before going back to work in the early hours of the morning. A good handful of the population worked as farmers, and the others managed the few businesses.

The fields of various vegetables – around this time, the farmers were still working with corn, squash, and some were even starting to plant fields of pumpkin – surrounded the village, although few were very large. Most of the field workers had retired with the setting sun and were retreating to either the tavern or the warmth of their homes.

A few militiamen stood guard outside the village gates. “Headed out?” one asked, brandishing a short sword.

Raven nodded briskly. “Just for a quick sword session before nightfall.”

“Good luck,” the militiaman said with a chuckle. “There aren’t too many monsters out lately. Looks like the black magic is starting to simmer down...which means our work is a lot easier.”

“Just my luck...” Raven muttered under his breath, sulking. He hated the infrequent decline in black magic leaks because it always meant that there were even fewer monsters roaming the country.

“Still going out there?”

“I guess. You never know.”

The militiamen both shrugged as Raven passed, leaving the small village in favor of the desolate, quiet countryside. He felt more at ease without the boundaries of Adair surrounding him, locking him in place like a pen.

The sun was already half-hidden behind the line of purple mountains in the distance. Most of Austror was made up of shallow valleys and empty plains – perfect territory for the elves, who lived out on the plains in ‘clans’, as they called their small communities. There was only one mountain range on the entire continent, out past the city Estershore. It was far from dangerous, but people still enjoyed fabricating stories of strange monsters influenced by the crack in the earth that issued concentrated black magic.

Raven looked over the quiet landscape, alert and prepared for a monster attack, even if the militiamen were right about the lack of recent encounters. It felt as if it had been ages since he faced off against a monster in the region – maybe the scholars were right about the black magic supply in the earth finally running out...

A long, mournful cry interrupted his thoughts. He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter with both hands, spinning around as he tried to locate the source of the noise. The darkening valley was still empty, devoid of any signs of life.

“What in the hell was that?” he asked himself aloud, gritting his teeth with frustration. It didn’t sound like any monster he had ever heard. What if-

A few silhouetted forms finally came into view, charging from the north. Raven watched in silence as the figures raced across the valley, too far away for him to make out clearly. They ran with an almost graceful, leaping gait, and at a pace much too quick for any normal human.

“Dragonlings!” one of the militiamen still posted at the gates called. Raven turned and saw them holding their short swords, their faces creased with determination. However, he thought he could still see traces of fear in their eyes as they watched the small pack run by; there were only three or four dragonlings in the group, but to a small village like Adair, they could prove dangerous enough to destroy the entire population.

“It’s all right,” Raven called back. “I don’t think they’re headed this way. It looks like they’re going towards Birchmoor or Estershore.”

The militiamen relaxed a bit as the pack began to disappear, fading into the darkening horizon. “That’s good for us, but I hope they pass up those areas as well. Their military groups are somewhat stronger than ours, but still...dragonlings are a problem.”

Raven returned his sword to the sheathe hanging from the belt on his waist; there would be no time for training tonight. “Has Adair had problems with them recently?”

“No, we haven’t. But, y’know...they could still become a problem, especially if too many come through at one time. They might decide to stop for a snack.”

Raven crossed his arms over his chest. He was going towards both Birchmoor and Estershore within the next few days. Hopefully the dragonling pack he had just seen would decide to pass up the town and city. With a solemn sigh, he returned to the inn, hoping the next day would prove to be more eventful.

There was fire everywhere... Wherever he looked, all he could see were flames licking at the destroyed earth and sky. Raven stepped back, wincing in pain as the burn mark on his arm flared. It hadn’t hurt like that in years...why now, all of a sudden?

The crack in the earth began to shake, spewing out clouds of the concentrated black magic. Raven jumped back, coughing as the thick, smoke-like gas filled the air and clouded his lungs. The crack was starting to sever even more and break apart...

There was a knock at the door.

Raven shot up, breathing heavily and gripping the bed sheets tightly with one hand. He blinked a few times and looked around; he was still in his rented room, sleeping on the rock-hard cot and lumpy pillow. He put his hand to his forehead, sighing deeply as he tried to catch his breath.

*‘So it was just a dream...?’* he asked himself, thinking how horribly cliche the situation suddenly seemed.

The door to his room opened slowly. Elsynne looked in, a faint blush crossing her cheeks as she saw Raven still half-asleep in his bed. “Uhm...you never showed up this morning, so I thought I’d come and see if you were all right.”

He looked to the window on the opposite wall of the room and scowled angrily. The sun was already up and it was midmorning.

“I’m sorry,” Raven said, pushing himself out of the bed. “I guess I overslept.”

“You still look very tired,” Elsynne observed as he adjusted his belt and strapped his sword to his waist. “Did you go to bed late?”

“No.”

“O-Oh...”

There was another long, awkward silence as Raven gathered his things. Elsynne spoke up again, still hesitant. “You sounded like you were having a bad dream.”

“...I’m fine,” he responded uneasily. “But listen, there’s something you could do for me before we get going.”

She perked up. “Yes?”

“Don’t be so damn reluctant whenever you’re talking to me. If you have something to say, then say it.”

She seemed taken aback by his words, but nodded nonetheless. “Yes, I understand. I’ll keep that all in mind.”

“Good. Well, then, are you ready to get going?” Raven asked, moving towards the door.

Elsynne dropped her hands to her sides, trying to look determined and prepared for the short journey ahead. However, despite her seemingly resolute demeanor, Raven could see straight through her facade; she was unable to hide the slight, almost invisible trepidation in her eyes.

Although they would only be together for a short time, Raven felt as if he had unwillingly pulled himself into something much deeper.