The Stewards of Reed, Volume 1: The Rise of Fallon

by Wark, RM

  “Oh, I am sorry. I did not know you were there.”

  “I am all right,” she said with a smile.

  “Uh, here you go. This should keep you warm,” he said, handing her the coat.

  “Thank you.” And then Talia did something Fallon was not expecting at all – she leaned in and kissed him softly on the mouth. For the briefest of moments his own lips responded, but then he pulled away in shock.

  “Talia…” he started to say, but he was at a loss for words.

  Her eyes filled with tears and she darted out of his room, leaving the coat behind.

  Fallon’s mind was spinning. He had to admit that a part of him enjoyed the kiss, his first kiss. But he had never really thought of her that way, not the way that he thought about the girl with the jet-black hair, anyway. He had obviously hurt her though, and for that he felt terrible. He stood frozen in his room for a moment, debating what to do. By the time he walked outside with the coat, Elizabeth and Jonas were standing up and saying their good-byes.

  “It is getting late, and Talia says she is not feeling well, so we shall be heading home now,” Elizabeth explained as she hugged Fallon. “We shall see you in a few months?”

  Fallon nodded, but he was distracted. Talia had already walked off towards the horses, making it clear she did not want to see him.

  When they left, Zeke turned to Fallon. “What did you do to her?” he asked. There was a bit of protective anger in his voice that surprised Fallon.

  “I do not know what just happened,” he answered truthfully.

  *************

  Baby Luca arrived into the world on the first day of a long snowstorm that would paralyze much of the Village of Reed. Fortunately, Elder Catherine was on hand when the first pains of labor started. At the Steward’s request, she had been over to check on Daria nearly every day for the past few weeks. More than a week had passed since Luca arrived and yet the Elder remained, unexpectedly confined to Daria and Gentry’s home by the storm that would leave the roads around Durham impassable by foot or horse.

  “Might I ask what happened to Gentry’s face? That is quite a nasty scar,” said Elder Catherine, trying to make conversation with Daria after sitting down to her morning tea.

  Daria shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I believe it was a bar fight, but Gentry has always been a bit unclear on the details. I suspect he had too many pints that night.”

  “I see,” said Elder Catherine. She was never a fan of the drink herself, and incidents such as this made her even less so. “Is Luca a family name?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

  “Not on my side of the family, anyway. I do not know about Gentry’s. I only know that my husband was quite insistent that if we had a boy he would be called Luca,” replied Daria. “It is a nice enough name, so I did not argue.”

  “Well, Luca seems to be a quite healthy baby boy; he is big and strong like his father.” Let us hope he does not take to the drink like his father – it would be a shame to spoil such a beautiful face, the Elder thought to herself as she regarded the tiny boy wrapped up in his mother’s arms.

  Daria smiled. Luca was the most perfect baby boy. And it was the perfect way to end the year.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The 20th Year of Fallon

  It was the first Council of Elders meeting following the winter solstice. There was not much to report – the first major winter storm had come and gone and things were returning to normal. The conversation eventually turned towards Fallon’s upcoming inauguration as the Steward of Reed; it was to be held on the evening of his 20th birthday.

  Fallon felt quite uncomfortable listening to the plans and having Steward Isaiah walk him through the ritual for the first time. It seemed only yesterday he was standing with his father at the Council Chamber door, quietly watching as his father explained the mark to Adam. He was not certain he was ready to be Steward quite yet. In truth, the thought terrified him.

  As the meeting was coming to a close, Elder Peter addressed Fallon. “Fallon, my boy, you have come a long way. We were not quite certain what to make of you at first – given that your mark was different from all the Stewards that came before you – but you have proven to us that you shall be a fine Steward for the Village of Reed. I look forward to serving you, for whatever time I have left in this world, anyway. And I am certain that Isaiah is very much looking forward to his retirement.”

  Elder Peter had expected some clapping and cheers in support of his statement, but instead nervous chuckles filled the room. All eyes were on Fallon. Elder Peter had forgotten that Fallon did not know that it was unusual for the mark to be different.

  Steward Isaiah let out a sigh. He knew this day would come, but he had hoped to be the one to tell Fallon about the mark. He had been planning to do so after the inauguration festivities, when Fallon was finally settled into his new role.

  Fallon was left in a state of shock by Elder Peter’s words. So he was different…it all made sense now.

  *************

  The dream had first come to him six years ago, in the first year of his apprenticeship with Steward Isaiah. Unlike the fire dreams, which filled Fallon with panic and urgency at the thought of an imminent raid by the Komanites, this dream just left Fallon with an uneasy feeling, as though he was at a crossroads and unsure of the path forward. Each time the dream returned, it became a little more clear, a little more unsettling. And now that he knew he was different – that he did not share the same mark as all the Stewards before him – the dream finally made sense.

  The first time he had this dream there was just one vivid scene: behind him stood his father and brother in front of their farmhouse in Littlebrook; in the distance he could see Attawan. He wanted to go after his horse, but he did not want to leave his family. Fallon just stood there – frozen in space –watching helplessly as the horse got farther and farther away. Attawan turned back around and stared at Fallon, seemingly pleading with him to follow.

  Through the years the dream evolved. The crowd standing in front of his father’s farmhouse in Littlebrook grew each time, and recent dreams included everyone who had ever impacted Fallon’s life: his father, Zeke, Jonas, Elizabeth, Talia, the Steward, Beatrice, the Elders, Gentry, Uncle Charles and Aunt Rebecca; even his long-deceased mother started making an appearance. But as the crowd grew larger, the desire to leave grew even stronger, and in the dream Fallon began taking steps towards Attawan, towards the unknown.

  The night after Elder Peter’s revelation, Fallon had the dream again. This time, Fallon finally reached his horse and mounted Attawan. He turned back towards the little farmhouse, where tears now stained the faces of his family and loved ones.

  “Do not go. Please.” The voice of his brother was desperate and haunting.

  Fallon turned away, his heart heavy. When he lifted his head, the girl with the jet-black hair was before him on a horse of her own.

  “The time has come,” she said, directing her gaze towards the Atlian Mountains in the distance and all the lands beyond.

  Fallon hesitated for just a moment, and then followed the girl with the jet-black hair, leaving his loved ones – and the Village of Reed – behind.

  *************

  Tobias eyed Fallon carefully. “I was not expecting to see you, my son. Should you not be in the Village Square, preparing for your big day tomorrow?”

  “I have never had a birthday away from Littlebrook,” Fallon replied. “I only ask for one more night with you and Zeke before everything changes.”

  Tobias smiled at his son and patted him on the back. “Well, I am glad you are here, then. I could use some help with dinner.”

  Zeke was thrilled to see his brother when he arrived home from school. They spent some time showing off for each other – Zeke with his bow and arrow tricks, Fallon with his magic tricks – and then they all sat down for a nice dinner of lamb and potatoes.

  “I would have asked Elizabeth to make a pie had I known you were coming,�
�� Tobias said. “I know how much you enjoy them.”

  “That is all right, I am not that hungry.”

  They all sat out on the front porch that evening watching the stars. Zeke did most of the talking, as per usual, but Fallon was particularly quiet.

  “Is everything all right, Fallon?” asked Tobias when Zeke finally retired to bed.

  “It shall be,” Fallon replied, looking out towards the horizon.

  “Are you worried about tomorrow?”

  “Aye.”

  “Do not fret, my son. You shall do just fine. I am quite proud of you. We all are.”

  Fallon smiled at his father. “No matter what happens, please know that I love you, I love you all.”

  Tobias did not know what to make of Fallon’s words, but before he could respond the young man stood up.

  “I have a long day tomorrow, I must go to bed. Good night.”

  “Good night, Fallon. I love you.”

  *************

  When Tobias and Zeke woke up the following morning, the morning of Fallon’s 20th birthday, Fallon was already gone.

  The Steward and Beatrice were busy getting ready for the inauguration ceremony that evening; they were constantly traveling back and forth between the house and the Council Chambers and barely had time to acknowledge Fallon when he returned.

  “We should plan to leave here at seven o’clock sharp,” Steward Isaiah had said as he rushed out the door. “I shall come for you.”

  Fallon did not even have a chance to respond, not that he knew what he would say anyway. He sat down at Steward Isaiah’s desk in the study and sighed. Mobley came by and nudged his hand, and Fallon happily petted the persistent dog. The stroking motion was calming and therapeutic for both of them.

  Finally Fallon took out a quill and ink and parchment paper and began to scratch out a note. He packed his bags, said his good-byes to Mobley and headed down the hill. He and Attawan were long gone by the time Steward Isaiah returned.

  The Steward had been calling for Fallon for some time before he discovered the note in his study. His heart ran cold as he read it, and he had to sit down to collect himself.

  Steward Isaiah,

  I do not know where to begin. I cannot explain it – I only know that I must go. I cannot ignore the dreams any longer. Thank you for everything.

  x Fallon

  “Where is Fallon?” asked the Elders as the Steward walked into the inner chamber, which was now aglow with an endless sea of candles. Slowly he began to explain to the confused Council that Fallon disappeared, leaving a cryptic note behind.

  “No true Steward would ever leave the village,” Steward Isaiah remarked with anger and a touch of sadness.

  All of the Elders were in shock, but Elder Peter took the news worst of all. “He was an impostor after all,” he said angrily, before collapsing on the floor. Those would be his final words.

  *************

  When she returned to her castle on Mt. Xavier, Lady Dinah kept herself busy with everything but her mother’s journals. A part of her had been worried that the third journal discovered in Lord Olivier’s library would not complete the set, that more journals would have to be found before the spell could be broken. This troubled her deeply because she knew there was nowhere else to look. All the other Western Wizards had perished during the Second War.

  Lady Dinah could not face the prospect of failure, so for a while she did nothing. She spent much of her time with Lady Blythe. The wizard still had not spoken a word and listlessly went about her day in the same exact way, every day. It was something Abigail said that finally moved Lady Dinah to act. “Poor thing. I would hate to be so paralyzed by fear that I could not move forward with my life.” Abigail had been talking about Lady Blythe, but Lady Dinah felt she might as well have been talking about her.

  That night, Lady Dinah finally brought the three journals together, laying them side by side on her desk. To her astonishment and overwhelming relief, the journals began to glow. She opened up the page of the first journal and the words began to unscramble right before her eyes. They formed legible sentences for only a second, then they disappeared. This perplexed Lady Dinah until it occurred to her that the journals were probably under a disappearing spell not unlike the one she put on her message to Steward Isaiah all those years ago.

  She spent the next few weeks reading through her mother’s journals. She could almost hear her mother’s voice as she read the words – the laughter, the anger, the joy and frustration. Somewhere in the second journal she came across her mother’s meeting with Steward Elijah regarding the twins. “Interesting,” she mused, “I never would have guessed. I wonder if Steward Isaiah knows about this.” She made a mental note to send him another message when she was done reading her mother’s journals.

  Towards the end of the third journal she came across the words she had really be searching for all this time – the words about her father. For most of her life, Lady Dinah had been led to believe that her father was Lord Gideon, and that he died before she was born, in the First War of the Wizards. But one night, when her mother had one too many glasses of wine to ease her pain, the pain that was a symptom of what would eventually kill her, Lady Delia let it slip that Lord Gideon was not her father after all. When Lady Dinah pressed her for more details, the old woman grew silent and refused to speak another word. A week later, the queen was dead, and Lady Dinah was left wondering.

  But now Lady Dinah knew the truth. She spent quite a bit of time processing the news. “They must never know,” she finally said aloud. Then she walked over to her fireplace and threw the journals onto the flames, watching as each page withered into smoke and ash.

  *************

  The Steward and Elders tried hard to keep the news of Fallon’s disappearance a secret from the village for as long as possible. They did not want the villagers to panic; they needed time to figure out what should be done. “He is on a special quest,” Steward Isaiah would say when asked about Fallon’s whereabouts, and then he would quickly change the subject.

  The only people who knew Fallon had disappeared (aside from the Elders) were Tobias, Zeke, Gentry and Beatrice. The Steward had reached out to them in hopes that they might know where Fallon was.

  Tobias could not believe the Steward’s tidings of his son, but he could not help but recall his final conversation with Fallon the night before he disappeared. He knew something had been wrong with the boy. If only he had pressed Fallon a little more…

  Gentry was equally shocked by the news. He held his infant son long that night; Luca was not yet five months old. Despite the fact that he had not slept that night, Gentry knew what he must do.

  “He is my best friend,” he tried to explain to his distraught wife the next morning. “I must find him. There is no way he would have just left – it does not make any sense. He is in trouble, I just know it.”

  Tears poured from Daria’s eyes as she pleaded with her husband to stay.

  “He saved my life, Daria. That is a debt that I must repay.”

  She hung her head low, sobbing.

  “I promise, I shall come home. I shall be back before the winter solstice, whether I find him or not.”

  He kissed her softly, kissed Luca on the forehead, and rode off on Casper in search of Fallon.

  *************

  It was the first new moon following the summer solstice, and the Western Wizards were all gathered at Mt. Xavier for the Council of Wizards meeting that took place every decade. They were all seated around a large oval table in one of Lady Dinah’s dining halls. Everyone except Lady Blythe, that is. She was in her room under Abigail’s careful watch.

  “Welcome all,” Lady Dinah began. “Much has happened in the last ten years, and there is much to discuss. One knows that all is not well in the Western Territories when even the Village of Reed feels the need to raise an army.”

  They spoke of Lord Milton’s disappearance. They spoke of Lady Blythe. They spoke of the Eastern Wiz
ards and their recent sightings in the Western Territories. They spoke of the troubles in Durango and the onslaught of Easterners crossing the Divisidero Mountains. They spoke of the countless Easterners who were missing. They spoke of war.

  “Our numbers are already so few, I fear we shall not survive another war,” Lady Dinah confessed. She looked over at Lady Nadine, her belly swollen with the first in the next generation of wizards. “But then again, I am not certain we have any other choice.”

  *************

  It was late Heptuly, and on this particular day the fog was unusually thick and cold and wet. It was the kind of depressing weather that made the Steward’s bones ache, particularly in the spot where the Komanite’s arrow had struck him years ago. But the Steward did not curse the foul weather. In fact, it seemed quite fitting. He had woken up that morning to find Mobley, his beloved dog of ten years, lifeless on the floor beside his bed. Now he was digging a grave on the hillside where Mobley used to chase the Steward’s grandchildren.

  With each shovelful of dirt, Steward Isaiah could not help but think how his world was crumbling around him. His apprentice was gone, and now there was no one to take his place as the next Steward of Reed. He was eighty years old, and he knew he did not have much time left. He did not know what was going to happen to the village when he died. This thought troubled him deeply, and had aged him beyond his years. He was slowly wasting away.

  He gently placed Mobley in the grave and started to shovel dirt on top of the dog. “Good-bye, my friend. Until we meet again.”