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Post by Harper Marowski on Jul 18, 2011 21:43:08 GMT -5
Yes. ANOTHER Harvin thing. It seems that all I write these days are centered around these two - I blame Percy. o.o Naw, just kidding, it's my fault I'm so obsessed. This is actually an idea that I conceived earlier this schoolyear, but I never really started writing it. Well, actually I did, but it was only a little snippet that had nothing to do with the beginning of the story. I'll explain more thoroughly what it is after the prologue. ^^ prologue In the world of Raothia, there has been magic as long as there has been air to breathe, and as soon as the first human beings inhabited the land, so did the very first sorcerer. As time went on, as more people began to populate and settle, so did the sorcerers. The lands flourished, the people thrived, and magic came to be as common as a blade of grass. Until there was Savron.
Savron, a man of greed and a sorcerer of great power, struck down all of his kind and all who opposed him. He consumed the lands of Raothia by force, creating an empire that the world had never seen. Any sorcerer or sorceress who bowed to his will became enslaved, their magics stripped from their cores, and for two hundred years, Savron was the supreme ruler of all the lands. He was cruel and unruly, striking down all in his path to glory, and sooner than later the name Savron was greeted with fear and hostility.
But from a small village near the center of Raothia, the whispers of rebellion began to rise from the ashes. Four sorcerers, born into their magic by enslaved men and women who’d had their magic ripped away, had been conspiring for five years in the hopes to defeat Savron: Orov, Vina, Norok, and Ratu. Their only goal was to rid Raothia of his terrifying shadow. Savron, upon hearing the rumor of an uprising, instantly traveled to the village to root out those who opposed him. But in doing so, he met his demise at the hands of four ordinary sorcerers, who became the heroes of Raothia.
Raothia rejoiced upon hearing of Savron’s death, and after a great meeting of the lands’ most powerful men, four countries were founded. In the meantime, the four heroes had given birth to children of their own. In honor of their victory over Savron, the ordinary men had decided that each country would be named after one of the children. Benevia, Ventior, Mortuk, and Callavhan. And those four children grew up to become the very first generation of what came to be known as the Four. Four sorcerers, one for each country, assigned with the task of protecting their lands from any opposing force for the good of all Raothia.
Thousands of years have passed since then, and this is a story that I tell to my child every night she’s willing to hear it. I am currently residing in my winter tower in Benevia, where my most prominent task is to train my daughter to take my place as the Sorcerer of the North, of Benevia. She is strong, and she is talented, but I sense that there is darkness in her future. I fear that she is soon to face a trial unlike any I have ever experienced in my lifetime. May the Spirits bless her.
-- Avon, 16th Sorcerer of the North 'Kay. Obviously, that child that Avon mentioned is none other than Harper. This is the basic storyline: There are four sorcerers in Raothia, one for every country - and each country is, in a way, facing a cardinal direction. Benevia is the country of the north, Mortuk is south, Ventior is east, and Callavhan is west. Harper is training to become the Sorcerer of the North (or, in her case, she'll be the Sorceress of the North). However, unbeknown to them, the Sorcerer of the South, Orin, has been jealous of Avon since they became sorcerers. That shadow that Avon was talking about in Harper's future? Well, let's just say Orin's about to make his move. >.> |
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Post by Harper Marowski on Oct 18, 2011 18:28:46 GMT -5
Whoo! So, the reason this is taking me forever is because I'm writing it all out in a notebook first. Today, in sixth period, I finished chapter one. Hooray! I've been typing it up and editing it as I go, but it's still a very, VERY rough draft. Keep in mind I do have a plan of publishing this when I do finish it and it goes through several edits. So it's kind of like you guys get to see it first. Here it is! chapter one
bandits in the forest “Father, you promised we would leave for Mother’s village as soon as you finished packing your potion’s supplies. What on this green earth could you possibly be doing now?”
Avon chuckled as he tucked away his quill in its inkwell and looked over his shoulder at his sixteen-year old daughter. She’d been waiting for this day for weeks now, now that the sun had returned warmth to the earth and all the flowers and trees were in bloom. It was that, the beginning of spring, that was the signal for Avon and his daughter to make their annual trip to Tirvién, the village in which his daughter’s mother lived.
“Just writing a few things down for our housekeeper to take care of while we’re away, sweetling,” he said absentmindedly as he scribbled out a few more words as his daughter began to tap her foot impatiently. Living sixteen years with her made him more attune to her moods, and it was obvious that her frustration was building up with every second. She was so much more like her mother than she ever realized. “A few more gardening instructions for our beloved Kendra.”
“More gardening instructions? But you already have three pages of parchments’ worth.”
Granted, as he turned around, she truly did look like her mother reincarnate. Long, dark hair tumbled over her small-framed shoulders and her sapphire blue traveling cloak he’d made for her years ago. She was glaring at him through her chocolate brown eyes, her olive-toned skin flushed with anger at having to wait on him. She looked far more like a young teenager than a young sorceress, though Avon knew very well that she had abilities beyond the norm for her age.
“Come now, my dear Harper,” he said with a patient smile, much to her seeming disgruntlement. “Patience is a virtue, child. How many times have I told you?”
“Several times at least in the past week,” his daughter Harper grumbled begrudgingly. “Are you almost finished?”
Avon rolled up the scroll he had been working on and tucked it into his cloak as he stood. He couldn’t risk Harper seeing a single word on this parchment, as he couldn’t help but fear the worst if she did. “You caught me as I was writing the last letter,” he said nonchalantly. “Are you ready to go? Do you have absolutely everything you’ll need for the summer?”
“I’ve had everything packed for hours now, Father. Please, let’s go. I want to get to Half-Moon Springs before nightfall.”
“Harper, sweet, we’re not leaving for Tirvién just yet. We won’t make it to Half-Moon Springs today,” Avon reminded her, adjusting the sleeve of his traveling cloak as he made his way to the door where his daughter was so impatiently waiting for him. He didn’t even have to look at her to know that her expression became aghast and almost angered.
“We what?!” In fact, as he looked up to observe her reaction, she looked about ready to explode. “What do you mean, ‘we won’t make it to Half-Moon Springs today’? We both told Mother that we-“
Avon chuckled, cutting her off. “Your mother’s been notified, sweetling. Some business has come up near Efier, and we have to make a detour before we start making our way for your mother’s village. But trust me when I say we’ll make it there in due time.”
Harper sighed. As soon as the word ‘business’ had left her father’s mouth, she knew that it had to be serious. He usually used different words to describe his jobs as Sorcerer of Benevia, but when he said business, it implied that something horrible had happened, or that someone was in dire need of his assistance that could not get it elsewhere. She didn’t know what could have possibly happened at Efier, a tiny fishing village on the Torgothian River, that had attracted such grim attention from her father.
“What happened at Efier?” she decided to question as she and her father began to make their way down the corridor. Though his legs were much longer than hers, she managed to keep up with him stride for stride, a skill she’d learned in the many years she had lived here with him.
“Bandits are plaguing the town, or so I understood from the letter I received yesterday afternoon,” Avon explained. “Three young women were… kidnapped and killed, so I’ve been called to deal with the problem.”
Harper snorted. “That’s a job for the village to handle,” she scoffed. “Bandits aren’t our responsibility.”
Her father shook his head and sighed in response. “When you’re older, you’ll understand that it’s a Sorcerer’s duty to answer the call of the people when there’s trouble, no matter what kind of trouble it may be. If the officials in Efier don’t catch these bandits, more innocent people will be hurt or killed. Imagine yourself to be one of those townspeople. The woman killed could be your friend. Mother. Sister. Surely you wouldn’t want anyone else to suffer as you have?”
“No, I’d want an end put to it. I would want justice,” Harper replied without hesitation.
“Of course you would.” Her father nodded approvingly, smiling now. “And we will be the ones to deliver that justice.”
“We? I’ll get to help?” Harper brightened at the notion, looking visibly excited.
“If I need you, of course. It’s never a wise idea to put more people in danger unless it’s absolutely necessary. And quite frankly, as you’re my daughter, I’m especially careful about that rule as I don’t ever want to see you hurt. But I have no idea how serious the situation is, and therefore I might very well need your help in the end,” Avon amended carefully.
Harper’s excitement turned into slight annoyance. “But Father, I can help – I can defend myself. Just yesterday you told me how powerful my defensive spells are.”
“And they are, my dear. Don’t assume I’m underestimating your abilities. But it’s simply that you shouldn’t seek out chances to use your power – it isn’t right of us.”
“Then why do we have magic if we can’t use it?”
Avon sighed again and gave his daughter a disapproving look. “I thought I taught you patience, not greed and pride. It’s thinking like that which brought about a man like Savron.”
The statement immediately brought an apologetic gaze to Harper’s brown eyes. The admonishment he had just given her was one of the worst a young sorcerer or any magic-user could receive. “I’m sorry,” she grumbled. “I didn’t mean that I-“
“My dear, I know. But, please, be more careful in your thoughts and words. Yes, you are the daughter of a sorcerer and a hedgewitch, and therefore you have very powerful magic running through your veins, but never should that warrant you to more rights than anyone else. Which is why you never use your powers unless you need to or unless it won’t affect others in a possibly negative way.”
Harper fell silent, and finally the pair of them had come to the reception hall of their tower, where their head of the cleaning staff, Kendra, was waiting for them.
Kendra had worked as the head of staff in Avon’s winter tower since before Harper was even born. She’d been a friend to Harper’s father for a very long time indeed – so long, in fact, that neither of them ever told Harper how long they had known each other, as if it was some kind of embarrassing fact. She was a kind woman, always ready for a request to fulfill, and that was just what she did now.
“Anything you need me to attend to before you leave, sir?”
Avon smiled at the woman. “I don’t believe so, Kendra, but thank you.”
“Father, don’t you have some more gardening instructions to give her?” Harper observed, eyeing his cloak as if to spot the parchment he had concealed underneath it.
Kendra blinked and gave Avon a disbelieving look, but said nothing.
“Oh, erm, of course. Why don’t you go and wait in the wagon, Harper? I’ll be out in a moment,” Avon said, smiling at his daughter. Grinning, she did as he asked and left. But the second she was out of sight, though, and the door shut behind her, his smile melted off his face.
“Gardening instructions, sir? More of them? You’ve already given me three pages of parchments’ worth,” Kendra commented, raising an eyebrow.
Avon shook his head. “I suppose it’s my own fault for making her so damn observant, but no, I have no other instructions for you, Kendra. Harper walked in on me writing down my latest vision, and I needed to come up with a quick lie.”
“Mercy! A vision?”
“Indeed, and by the magical law, I’m not permitted to notify the persons involved with the vision, and even when one of those persons is my own daughter…”
“A vision involving Harper? Great Spirits, sir, is she in some kind of danger?” Kendra asked, her eyebrows furrowed in concern.
There was a pause before Avon finally answered. His voice was heavy with uncertainty and almost laced with something akin to fear. “I… I don’t know. It was probably the vaguest vision I’ve ever had, to be honest. I would explain, but I’m afraid I must be off before Harper throws some kind of fit.”
Kendra smiled. “She does take after her mother in that way,” she remarked.
Avon grinned back at the thought of Harper’s mother. “Yes, yes I suppose she does.”
~*--------------------*~
“How far is Efier, anyway?”
“We’re getting close now, my dear, it won’t be long. But keep an eye out for any danger.”
Harper and her father had been on the road for hours now, having only stopped to eat a few of the foods that Kendra had packed for the journey. It had been going just the same as any journey they made together – Harper drove the wagon, holding the reins to the cart horses, as Avon rode alongside her, acting as a guard and a leader on the road.
They were in the woods now, on a narrow road. The woods, according to Avon, were going to serve as the last leg of their journey to Efier.
“Whoa,” Avon said, reining in his horse and holding out his hand in order to also stop Harper. She brought the wagon to a halt and gazed at her father, looking and feeling concerned.
“Father? Is something wrong?” she asked.
Her father raised his hand to silence her. “We’re not alone,” he remarked, attentive as he carefully observed the brush around them. “Stay in the wagon, sweetling,” he then instructed Harper. “I don’t believe that our followers are friendly.”
Less than a few seconds after he’d said that, Harper shouted, “Watch out!”
The battle cries of several men echoed through the trees as many of them surged the road towards Avon and the wagon in which his daughter was seated, and battle immediately ensued.
In all honesty, the bandits didn’t stand a chance against the power of Avon, as their simple steel weapons couldn’t effect the strong magical shields that had suddenly sprung up around the sorcerer and his daughter. But still they tried, as if they were driven on by some unseen force.
“There’s something wrong with them!” Harper cried out to her father as she worked on maintaining a shield around the wagon. “Look at their eyes! They don’t know what they’re doing!”
Upon hearing his daughter speak, Avon opened up his senses and realized that she was right. There was magic in the air, magic that did not belong to neither him nor Harper. There was a gleam in the men's eyes that suggested that they were the ones being effected by this power. But what disturbed him even further was that it was a magic that he had never come across before. And it was powerful – almost as powerful as his or Harper’s, and that implied… Avon shook his head. That was impossible.
Harper’s scream brought him out of his reverie.
A bandit had somehow gotten through her shield and had swung at her with his rapier, catching her off guard. She’d jumped out of the way quickly enough, to Avon’s relief, but in her momentary distraction, the entirety of her shield had collapsed, and bandits swarmed the wagon. Their triumphant cries made the sorcerer sick to his stomach, and he felt panic overcoming him as he narrowed his eyes in concentration and show his hand out towards the men who were now threatening his daughter’s life.
As if his hand had formed a wave of discharge, the bandits were blasted away from the wagon. Some hit the trees around the clearing, and sank to the ground either dazed or unconscious. Others seemed to come to their senses the second Avon’s spell had struck them, and they realized who they’d attacked. Those men fled without another moment’s hesitation.
“Harper, sweetling, are you alright?” Avon demanded of her, dismounting his horse and going to the wagon with a concerned expression on his face.
Harper nodded, quickly composing herself. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to maintain my shield father,” she grumbled, ashamed. “It’s just that-“
“Don’t apologize, my dear, you’re still young,” Avon reminded her good-naturedly with a reassuring smile. He patted her shoulder, still incredibly relieved that his daughter appeared to be unharmed. “You did as well as you could. I meant it when I told you that your defensive spells are powerful. You only lost focus, which is completely understandable when there’s a weapon being brandished at you. Maybe focus is what we can work on this summer, yeah?”
Harper nodded as his gazed went to the men that had been left behind by their companions. Harper watched as his expression immediately turned dark. “We’ll bind them and take them with us to Efier,” he said. “It’s very possible that these men are the very bandits we were meant to deal with.”
“But there are still some that escaped,” Harper observed with a frown. “Shouldn’t we go after them?”
“Absolutely not,” her father answered sternly, mirroring her frown. “Not only would that delay us indefinitely, but it would put us in unnecessary danger. And I will have no more of these renegades anywhere near you if they have the ability to hurt you. Not if I can help it. Now, let’s unarm these men and tie them up. Keep them frozen. You know the spell.”
Harper grinned and held out her hands towards the downed men, relishing in the feeling of magic flowing through her fingers like blood, the power spreading out through the clearing to keep the bandits from getting up.
Avon gathered a few coils of rope from the wagon and went about tying the men’s hands and feet together. He had no patience for gags and their like, so a quick silencing spell was enough to keep them quiet. Using a combination of their magics, then, Harper and Avon managed to load the now bound men onto their wagon, where they stayed for the rest of the journey to Efier.
~*--------------------*~
“We could never thank the two of you enough.”
The village leader of Efier was a small and portly man, balding in his age, yet he was still one of the liveliest men that Harper had ever seen. His beady blue eyes were alight with joy, as they had been when Harper and her father entered for the first time a few minutes ago. What he lacked in height, he made up for in spirit so it seemed.
Currently, some of the village men had gone out to Avon and Harper’s wagon to fetch the bandits that they had brought.
“How long have those men been bothering your village?” Avon questioned.
“For quite a while, sir, quite a while. Half of our village has been lost to these ruffians. The three women I told you about were just in one raid. My people can finally rest peaceful-like at night now, thanks to your kindness. If there’s ever anythin’ we could ever do for either of you…”
Avon shook his head and raised a hand to silence the leader. “We need nothing, Randolf,” he replied, addressing the leader by his first name. “This is our duty, nothing more. I’m just honored we could help.”
“We could still give you something. Anything you ask for, it’s yours,” the leader, Randolf, insisted.
Avon smiled, scoffing a little as he once again began shaking his head. “No. Consider the safety of your people our gift. Citizens of Benevia are my responsibility. The only thing I ask for is your leave, please. We have a destination to reach, as crude as that might sound.”
As Harper watched the exchange, she began to realize that this was just how a Sorcerer and his people were meant to interact. Her father was the perfect example of modesty and kindness, always putting the need of the people first. She had been on a number of missions like this one with him (though this had been the first time Harper hadn’t missed out on the action), and never had her father asked for anything in return for his services.
Randolf was frantically shaking his head, raising his hands almost as a peace offering. “Of course I give you your leave, sir, of course. I wish you and your ward the best o’ luck, and I offer my eternal gratitude.”
It was just as he was finishing that Avon suddenly seemed to realize something. “Actually,” he said thoughtfully, “I’m wondering if I might have a word with the captured men. I want to ask them a few questions before you try and get the location of the others out of them. Would that be alright?”
“Oh, of course, sir. Gladly, gladly.”
Almost as soon as Randolf had said it, a few of the village men returned, carrying the apprehended bandits with them. Avon’s silencing enchantment had worn off, and curses were streaming from their mouths as they violently struggled. Harper even heard a few curses that she’d never heard before (but she would never admit out loud that one or two of them sounded tempting to try).
“Shut your mouths, the lot of you!” Randolf roared, effectively quieting the room before continuing. “Now, the Sorcerer of the North here wants to ask you a few questions, and I suggest you make it easier on yourselves and do whatever he wants.” Then he turned to Avon, hardly smiling, and said, “Do you need privacy, sir? Or should I leave my men to protect you?”
“Harper and I can handle ourselves,” Avon answered, dipping his head in acknowledgement of the offer. “But if you could all clear the room, that would be best.”
Nobody even questioned the request. Randolf was the last to exit, and he bowed to Avon before leaving and closing the door behind him.
Less than a second after, Avon ordered, “Harper, ward the room. I don’t want to risk anyone overhearing this.”
Harper immediately did as he asked as he held out his hand to keep the bandits in their place. Some of the bandits struggled, but none were able to break the hold the sorcerer had placed on them.
One struggled particularly hard, and he spat when Avon neared him. “You’re a freak,” he growled. “If I had a sword, I’d run you through.”
“That’s an immaterial thought, as you don’t have a sword,” Avon remarked, his voice almost a drawl.
“Oh, I think it wouldn’t be so immaterial once I got my hands on your daughter.”
Harper and Avon both sucked in a quick, panicked breath. Nobody knew of Avon’s secret, of the daughter he’d had with the hedgewitch in Tirvién, and that that very daughter had become his ward to train to become the next Sorcerer of the North. The only people in the world who knew of Harper’s origins were Harper herself, her father, her mother, and Kendra their winter housekeeper. And yet, not only did someone else now know, that someone also happened to be a common criminal who had attacked them.
“Tell me why you went after my daughter and I. Now,” Avon snarled, moving in on that bandit as his eyes narrowed.
The bandit narrowed his eyes and looked between Avon and Harper a few times before a nasty smile came over his face. “Just you wait until he hears about this.”
“Who? Who hears about this? Who wants to know about Harper?” Avon demanded.
“He’ll find you,” came the malicious reply. The bandit was still smiling, and it was beginning to make Harper extremely nervous. “He’ll come for you, and he’ll come for her. Just you wait.”
There was a moment of silence before Avon growled his frustration and stalked back over to Harper. “His mind is warded,” he explained to her. “And he’s the only one who knows anything. Spirits damn it all!”
Harper bit her lip. It was very rare that her father ever cursed.
“What do you think we should do, sweetling?” he asked of her.
“I… Well, I mean, we can’t… we can’t just let them know about…” She didn’t want to say it out loud again, but Avon nodded to show that he understood what she was trying to say.
“I can make the others forget easily enough,” he remarked quietly. “But the ward on that one’s mind is… it’s impossible to undo, and I can’t get through it or around it. Making him forget is impossible. Whoever did this to him is either very powerful, or has access to some powerful potions.”
“Then who?”
“I don’t… I don’t know, sweetling. Whoever it is, they know us much more than I’d like them to. You’ve never told anyone, right?” Avon asked her.
Harper shook her head frantically. “No!” she cried. “No, I would never! You always told me it was a bad idea-“
“I trust you, sweetling, there’s no need to get hysterical. If you said you never told anyone, then that means you’ve never told anyone. Believe me, I know.”
Harper sighed and looked over at the bandits, all of whom were smiling now. A nervous pain wrenched in her gut at the sight of them. “Just… just make them forget. I think it’s the only way. And then we just get out of here, and go to Tirvién to mother. I’ll feel better once we get there.”
Her father nodded and kissed her forehead. He ignored the snickers and sneers from the men behind them, but Harper flinched at their jeering. He noticed this, frowned, and looked over his shoulder to glare at the bandits. “I’ll take care of everything, sweetling,” he said, never taking his eyes away from the men against the wall. “You ought to go on and wait outside. Make sure the wagon is ready for departure, would you? We’ll leave as soon as I finish here. There’s no need for you to watch this.”
Hesitantly, she did as he asked. Although, as she exited the room and shut the door behind her, she briefly wondered if her father’s only intention was to make those bandits forget. No, no Gavin yet. Don't worry, he's coming. <3 |
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Post by Harper Marowski on Dec 21, 2011 22:36:47 GMT -5
Whoo! Two months later, and I finally finished the second chapter.  Like I said, I'm writing this out in a notebook too so it's kind of like I basically write this whenever I have spare time and I have the notebook on me, and my laptop's not available. I'm very OCD about these kind of things. Anyways, just once again forgive any awful sentences and/or errors. Like I said, very very rough draft. “There’s our little shrimp! What took you so long, love?”
Harper grinned. She’d figured that the first people to notice her and Avon’s arrival would be her three best friends: Adrian, Darien, and Harrison. In truth, they were the only friends she really had as they were also the only children her age in Tirvién, and the four of them had been close practically since birth.
Darien, the tallest of the bunch, didn’t even hesitate to climb up onto the moving wagon to sit next to Harper in the driver’s seat. Harrison and Adrian, grinning, came to walk alongside it. “You’re three days late,” Darien finally remarked with a mockingly solemn air. “Adrian was about ready to die of a broken heart – he thought you weren’t coming at all.”
“Oi! I’m not the one who’s spent the past week up at Lookout’s Hill,” Adrian, his twin brother, protested. “I wouldn’t be so quick to try and put it off on my, if I were you.”
“Oh, shut up Adrian, you spoil-sport,” Darien drawled lazily. “Then let it be known that I’m the only one who cared about our dear Harper’s arrival.”
Harper laughed. “I appreciate it, Darien,” she said.
“Ha, ha! See that, boys? She appreciates me.”
“I think she said she appreciated the sentiment, not you,” teased Harrison, the last of their bunch, grinning as he said it. Generally, he was a fairly quiet boy, but he was always looser around the three of them.
“As if anyone could appreciate that face of yours,” Adrian added on.
Darien pressed a hand over his chest to feign his heart breaking, a horrified look on his face. “Sirs, you wound me with your words! Harper, my love, you must punish these ruffians for their actions! Use your magic on them, quick, before they deal to me a blow I can’t recover from.”
“I’ll punish them then they begin lying, my dear Darien.”
Adrian and Harrison howled with laughter, and even Darien had to grin. He draped an arm around her shoulders lazily and hugged her to him. “We’ve missed you, love,” he said. “It’s going to be a good two seasons with you around.”
“Hello, boys.” Suddenly, Avon was there on his mouth alongside Harrison and Adrian, a knowing smile on his face. The three boys were frequent visitors to his summer tower when Harper was staying with him and not her mother. “It’s good to see the lot of you. Harrison, how’s your father doing? Has this past winter treated him well?”
Harrison nodded. “He’s excited to see you, sir. Someone’s been raiding our crops, stealing food. Not much, but… we’re just worried about thieves. He hopes you’ll be able to help track whoever this is down, but he thinks it’s just some poor sap who can’t get enough food of his own,” he replied respectfully. His father, Arthur, was the leader of the village of Tirvién and was a reasonably close friend of Avon’s.
“Your father’s a good man,” Avon amended. “But I won’t bore you any longer. Harper, why don’t you go on ahead and take the wagon to your mother’s cottage? I’m going to go visit with Arthur for a few quick minutes before I meet you there.”
“Alright,” Harper said, smiling as her father kicked his horse into a trot and rode ahead of them to the leader’s home.
Darien made some disapproving noises. “That sorcerer of yours. Always working. Promise me, love, that when you take over, you won’t be so boring.”
“I don’t have to take over for a while, mind you,” Harper reminded him good-naturedly. “But, sure, I’ll do what I can.”
“You’re coming to the feast tonight, aren’t you?” Adrian then decided to ask.
“Feast? I didn’t know it was a holiday.”
Darien barked a laugh. “Oh, Harper, love, you’re the holiday.”
“My father thinks it would be appropriate to celebrate your arrival this year with a feast,” Harrison explained with a smile. “I wouldn’t ask why – even I don’t know what he had in mind. I asked him and he only winked and didn’t say anything else.”
“Which means the old man is up to something,” Darien observed.
“We’ll find out tonight though, I’m sure,” Harper remarked thoughtfully. “But of course I’ll be there, if my presence it wanted-“
“Your presence is always wanted,” Darien corrected her.
“Thank you, Darien. But my mother will probably be going, so there’s no reason I shouldn’t.”
“Speaking of your mother…” Adrian began to say.
“Harper Leanne Meverel! Look at you! You look like a sorceress already.”
A reasonably small but beautiful woman was fast approaching the wagon, having come from a larger cottage just a ways down the road. She looked almost exactly like Harper with her long dark hair and chocolate brown eyes and olive-toned skin, the same smile plastered on her face. Grinning, Harper drew the wagon to a halt.
“That would be our cue to head off. See you tonight at the feast, love,” Darien commented, thought before he hopped off the wagon, he did something totally unexpected.
He kissed Harper on the cheek.
Red blossomed across her face, and she opened her mouth to say something, but not only did she find herself speechless as her heart pounded, but Darien and the others were already heading down the way. They didn’t look back.
“My darling daughter.” Suddenly Patricia Meverel, Harper’s mother and the hedgewitch of Tirvién, was standing next to the wagon, beaming. “Great Spirits, child, you just won’t stop growing.”
Momentarily forgetting what had just happened with Darien, Harper didn’t hesitate to climb down from her seat on the wagon and throw herself into her mother’s arms. They embraced tightly, and for the first time in two days, Harper felt completely safe.
“Oh, Mama, I’ve missed you,” Harper murmured, breathing in her mother’s comforting scent of herbs and smoke of the fire.
“I’ve missed you too, sweet. I’ve missed you too,” Tricia repeated softly. She then pushed her daughter out to arm’s length to look her up and down. “My goodness. Just last autumn, you were a spindly little thing, and now look at you. A fully grown young woman.” There was a pause before Tricia’s smiled turned into a mischievous one. “And it looks like I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”
The blush returned to Harper’s cheeks. “Mama, I don’t…”
“Oh sweet, I don’t mean to fluster you. I think it’s all in good fun – after all, Darien’s not such a horrid boy. You might even do well with him, his being the blacksmith’s son and all.”
“Please, mama, no. Could we just… not discuss it? I don’t want to think about it,” Harper begged, her face reddening.
“Oh, of course, sweet, I’m sorry.” But by the mischievous smile still on her face, Harper could tell that her mother wasn’t very sorry at all. “Here, why don’t we take the horse and the wagon to the barn and we can get Avon to unpack all of the heavy stuff, yeah?” Tricia winked and Harper laughed.
Avon joined them in the stables, as that’s where they went, about ten minutes later, leading his own mount inside as Tricia and Harper finished up brushing the cart horse. Quickly looking around to make sure that they were alone, Avon came over and swept Tricia into his arms to kiss her.
“I hope the winter wasn’t too hard on you, my love,” he said, finally setting her down.
“I’m still breathing, and so is all of Tirvién, so I daresay we managed. Harper was telling me how you spent your winter.”
“Oh?” Avon raised an eyebrow at Harper, who was grinning just as mischievously as her mother. “And what did she tell you?”
Tricia slapped the sorcerer on the arm, and Harper giggled. “Testing the tenacity of a rose in harsh winter weather conditions is not nearly as important as teaching my daughter how to use her power!” Tricia growled, narrowing her eyes up at Avon, who scoffed.
“Well your daughter told you wrong. My daughter was hard at work all winter studying the ancient magics and working on defensive spells… the roses were only a side experiment.”
“Harper Meverel, you horrid girl!” Tricia rounded on her daughter, who was laughing now, and pointed an accusatory finger at her. “Lying to your own mother! I ought to beat you senseless, child!”
“But you won’t,” Harper teased. “You love me too much.”
“Lucky for you, you trouble maker.”
And so Harper’s time in Tirvién that year began.
~*--------------------*~
The feast that night turned out to be a celebration. Everyone in Tirvién had come to the tavern, even Darien and Adrian’s father had managed to detach himself from the forges for an evening. Arthur had put a lot of effort into making this a lively gathering, and the tavern owner Rufus and his wife Evelyn had cooked their finest foods and set out the finest table cloths and ale.
Upon entering with her mother, Harper blinked and took a moment to take in her extravagant surroundings.
“Do you like it?” Tricia asked, grinning at her daughter.
“I… this is all for me?”
“Well, it’s for Avon, really, but then it’s like it’s for you by default.”
Harper smiled. “Either way, it’s wonderful. Whose idea was it?”
“Arthur’s, I think,” Tricia told her. “He’s been excited for your arrival for some time now. Did anyone tell you someone’s been getting into our crops?”
“Harrison did.”
“Arthur’s been worried, is all. He thinks that Avon being here is like we’ve already captured and punished the thief, so a celebration is in order. He’s just been looking for an excuse to have a feast. You know how he is.”
The smile on Harper’s face only grew – she knew exactly what the leader of Tirvién could be like when he had his mind set on something. Her mother led her over to a table where Avon was already sitting with Arthur and Harrison. The three men looked up at their approach.
“Patricia!” Arthur boomed, standing to great the healer. Harrison’s father was a gangly man like his son with straw-colored hair and bright blue eyes. He had a great, loud voice befitting of a village leader. “Wonderful to see you. Would you do me the honor of sitting at my table? And you brought Harper with you! Excellent. Please, please, both of you sit down.”
Harper sat down next to Avon and her mother sat on her other side. Harrison smiled at his friend when she looked at him, and when Evelyn came by to offer them drinks, the meal began.
For the most part, the three adults did most of the talking, hardly ever including the two teenagers in their conversation.
Until of course, Arthur said,
“So, Harper, have you given any thought to marriage?”
Harper almost choked on her ginger tea. She resisted the urge to spit it out. “W-What? I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Father…” Harrison grumbled.
“Arthur…” Avon warned at the same time.
Arthur waved off the protests dismissively. “You’re getting older, Harper, and mighty pretty. With the Spirits’ blessing, you won’t be Sorceress for many years yet. Avon chose to stay a lone wolf for the rest of his life, and I was hoping you wouldn’t be going down that same road. Tell me, have you thought about marrying anyone?” He took a sip of his ale casually, as if the question he’d just asked was of no significant importance.
“I… I don’t…”
“Arthur.” It was Tricia who came to her daughter’s defense, and she sounded absolutely scandalized. “My Harper is only sixteen. And she is Avon’s apprentice. How could you even suggest such a thing?”
“Is this what this is all about, Arthur?” Avon, too, looked angry at the suggestion. His fists were clenched on the table, and his eyes had narrowed a considerable amount. “You have this celebration to try and inquire about my dau- my apprentice’s marital status?”
Tricia and Harper looked at him in alarm, Harrison in curious interest, but Arthur didn’t notice the slip-up. He looked completely unbothered by their reactions.
“Princess Alia is only fifteen, and she’s already with child, mind you,” he pointed out with nonchalance. “I was only asking a simple question, and if she had no answer, then suggesting my boy Harrison for courtship.”
“What?!” Harper and Harrison shouted at the same time, drawing the attention of several patrons around them.
Avon and Tricia only looked murderous.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Arthur Gordon! You invite me and my daughter to sit with you and make us feel welcome at your table when all you wanted was to force your son onto her like some kind of fiendish matchmaker? Harper, come. We’ll go seek better company at a different table,” Tricia snapped, rising from her seat, gripping her daughter’s arm and pulling her to her feet.
“Oh, honestly, Tricia, there’s no need to be dramatic,” Arthur remarked.
Harper’s face was bright red at this point, and Harrison was gazing at her apologetically. It was obvious that he’d had no idea that his father had this planned, but at the moment none of it mattered. Embarrassment burned Harper from the inside out, and she was grateful when her mother finally dragged her away.
“The nerve of that man,” Tricia was exclaiming. “I’m so sorry, Harper, dear. If I’d had any idea-“
“No, Mother, it’s alright,” Harper finally managed to say, though her voice was small and weak.
For sixteen years, coming to Tirvién had been a simple, fun affair. Arrival in the spring, splitting her time between training and the boys and her mother, and departure in the fall. A few festivals in between, maybe even a job with her father or two. But never had romance even been a topic of conversation amongst anyone, not even her parents. And now, two notions of it all within a few hours.
It was almost overwhelming.
“No, damn him, it’s not alright,” her mother persisted, shaking her head. “Harrison’s a nice boy, I’ll admit, but to even bring such a thing up in conversation so unexpectedly and in public. Why, I ought to-“
“Is everything alright, Tricia? Is Harper alright?”
Avon had joined them.
It always amazed Harper that her father was able to hide his emotions so well, the façade he always managed to put on for other people – that she was only his apprentice and ward while her mother was only a good friend. But it was also times like this when she could see just how fragile that mask could be.
“Other than the proposal she was just practically offered? Ask her yourself,” Tricia hissed.
“Honestly, it’s alright,” Harper protested quietly. “It just caught me by surprise, is all. It won’t matter in a few days.”
Avon wrapped a gentle arm around her shoulders. “Are you sure, sweet? Do you want to head on back to your mother’s cottage and get some rest? It’s been a long few days without a proper bed.”
A spark of irritation shot through Harper. “I’m not just going to hide,” she said, slipping from her father’s arms. “I’m fine. We came to enjoy ourselves, and that’s what I want to do, and I want to spend time with my friends.” Without another word, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving her parents in the corner where they’d been standing.
She didn’t see or hear her father lean over towards her mother and mutter, “Sometimes I swear you two are the same person.”
~*--------------------*~
It was about a half-hour later, and Harper was sitting at a table with Adrian, Darien, and their father. They’d immediately let her sit with them the second she’d approached.
“You alright, love?” Darien asked her at one point. “You’ve been pretty quiet.”
“Hm?” Harper looked up in alarm.
“You look like you’re caught up in thought there, Miss Harper.” Adrian and Darien’s father was a rather large man, with a scruffy large beard and the same blue eyes that his sons also had. He was one of the gentlest men in the village, which was definitely not a trait he’d passed on to his offspring. “Anythin’ we could help you with, by chance?”
“Oh, nothing’s wrong exactly. Just… I’m fine, really.”
“You know, the music is fairly lively,” Darien remarked, almost hastily, as he stood from his chair. He offered his hand to Harper. “Maybe you’d like to dance, love? Get your mind off your troubles?”
Harper eyed her friend for a moment, not sure of what to do. Just a few hours before, Darien had kissed her on the cheek – he was one of the causes of her relative distress. But was it really a wise decision to turn down his invitation with his brother and father so near? In the end, she decided,
“I… I suppose.”
When Darien’s face lit up at her response, Harper thought that maybe her decision had been the right one after all. She couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm as he pulled her out onto the makeshift dance-floor where two of the villagers had produced instruments and were playing upbeat music for the few people that were already dancing.
Almost immediately, Darien pulled Harper to him and began to move his feet in time to the music. Harper, who had a love for dancing, readily answered the challenge, and they danced.
Although, the euphoria that came with the lovely movement was short-lived.
“I know you might not have wanted to tell my father, but you know you can always talk to me,” Darien said, looking at her intently with his sapphire blue eyes. “What’s bothering you, love?”
Harper looked at him almost bitterly, but more contemplatively than anything else. Immediately, Darien caught on, and looked properly abashed. “Alright, love, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I kissed your cheek. I was just real happy to see you, is all. Is that what’s got you so quiet? I didn’t mean to make you upset, Harper, honest, I-“
“Darien. I’m not angry with you, not exactly. You took me by surprise, that’s all. I just… seem to have more on my mind than I’d like. And it’s been a long few days.”
Darien seemed to consider this for a moment before he grinned. “Well,” he said, “What better way to take your mind off things than to dance the Cat’s Walk?” Without another word, he winked and went to speak with the musicians.
Less than a minute later, a familiar tune started and a number of hollers of appreciation filled the tavern room. By the time Darien had returned to Harper, the dance floor was full. Harper spotted her mother dragging Avon over, and she laughed to herself. Her father had always hated dancing.
“Milady?” Darien gave her a mock bow, and Harper giggled as he offered his hand as he had earlier. “Would you care for this dance?”
“Darien, you really are such a foolish idiot,” Harper laughed as she took the offered hand.
The music carried them far into the night, dancing and hooting and hollering with the villagers of Tirvién. Halfway through, Harper saw an exhausted Avon trudge out the door, but even his exit didn’t stop the party. She danced a number of times with Darien, twice with his twin brother Adrian, and even once with a mortified Harrison, who profusely apologized for his father’s behavior.
Despite its beginning, the night was actually turning out to be rather enjoyable.
But towards midnight, as Harper was getting ready to go, she felt as though a pair of eyes was on her. When she turned around in curiosity, her instincts were proved right.
There was a young man sitting alone at a table near the back of the tavern. Messy sandy brown hair hung over sharp blue-gray eyes, and they were fixated on Harper. An amused, almost condescending smirk stretched across his features, and Harper noticed that he was tanned (though now that the sun was out so often in the spring, it wasn’t out of place) with a five o’ clock shadow along his chin and jawline. As soon as he realized that Harper had seen him, his eyes flickered away and his head turned as if to pretend that he’d never been looking in her direction.
“Who is that?” Harper questioned of Harrison, who was her companion at the time.
Harrison’s eyes followed hers, and he frowned slightly and shrugged. “He’s been coming in and out of town for a month or two now. Far as I know, he calls himself Gavin, and he buys meals here every once in a while and eats alone. Doesn’t seem like the talkative type.”
The pair of them neared the door. “Do you need anyone to walk you home?”
Harper was about to politely reject the offer, but then her mind drifted to the bandits from a few days prior. Fear spiked her heart rate. “That would actually be wonderful. Thank you, Harrison.” She smiled at him sincerely.
As they left the tavern, Harper got the feeling that a pair of blue-gray eyes followed them out. Not much a meeting, I'll give you that, but... Gavin has been introduced, but so have three other guys. o.o What does this mean for poor Harper? |
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Like I said, I'm writing this out in a notebook too so it's kind of like I basically write this whenever I have spare time and I have the notebook on me, and my laptop's not available. I'm very OCD about these kind of things. Anyways, just once again forgive any awful sentences and/or errors. Like I said, very very rough draft.