Celine shook her head, “Nope, you have to say it.”
Lyric blushed.
Celine smiled, it was good that she still could make him blush.
Lyric took a moment and then looked into Celine’s bright green eyes. “Celine Vastel, you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
Celine did smile for a moment, then her face returned to a stony blank slate while she watched his eyes. “Then why are you marrying Sibylle?” she asked in a soft voice.
“I’m not marrying her,” protested Lyric. “I mean, I did say I would, but there is no way I will win the tournament.”
Celine sighed, “Lyric, first off, never say things like she’s just a girl. It’s not nice and it shows your ignorance. Sibylle Lamar has been trained by one of the most famous fighters in all of the Isle. Sibylle could beat the majority of fighters entering this stupid tournament. She wouldn’t need a champion if men weren’t so stupid. Secondly, you are not just a normal boy. You are dragonblood, that makes you special. When the dragons come back, you are going to be very powerful. You aren’t just some skinny little street rat anymore.”
“I’m still too skinny,” said Lyric as he shuffled his feet awkwardly.
Celine could see that despite having a dragon mark and seeing it grow every year, Lyric still didn’t truly believe that he’d special. Nor did he want that to change. Life was good now, he had a warm place to sleep, ate every day and had friends. Celine understood why such things would be so important to a boy who never had such things yet there was more to life than eating and sleeping in a warm bed. However, Celine could see that the conversation was bringing up some of Lyric’s old insecurities. He had come so far from the stinky scarecrow of a street rat he had once been, both physically and mentally, but some scars took longer to heal than others. Wanting to change the tone of the suddenly too tense conversation, Celine made a show of working her eyes up and down his body while her fingertips gently slid up his arm along the outline of his bicep. “Lyric, you’re not that skinny anymore. You used to be bag of bones and skin, now you are lean, well-toned, young man. I think even your tally-wacker has grown muscles since you started eating more.”
Lyric’s face turned a bright red, despite his best efforts.
Celine grinned, she’d found a way to embarrass him, and create a stirring in him that would cause him to grow even more if the conversation didn’t change soon.
Lyric stood up and grabbed his clothes.
Celine smiled and watched with satisfaction as Lyric’s face changed color and he started getting dressed. Teasing Lyric was one of life’s true pleasures. As he slowly put on his clothes, Celine had to admit her words weren’t just hot air to sooth Lyric’s ego. He truly had changed his body. While he was certainly still slender, he did have muscle tone and his face wasn’t as shallow. Hard work and good food was doing great things for him. Celine wondered how he would have looked if he hadn’t grown up in poverty. Would he be taller, more muscular? Would he have the same mischievous smile and sense of humor, or would a better upbringing make a bigger body and a smaller heart? However small and insecure Lyric might have been, he was always kind and caring for others. Was the fact that he never really had friends or family before the reason he was so open and caring with them now?
Lyric interrupted Celine’s pondering. “Come on, lets for a hike. I haven’t really done much exploring since I started training every day.
Celine stood up. “Let’s head back to the house then. We can grab a small picnic basket and head out for the day. I’ll take you up the mountain where you can see everything.”
Lyric smiled brightly. “Yes, let’s do that.”
…
After heading back to the house to get their basket, they headed out. Lyric followed as Celine took him through the forest, showing him the main trails that lead from Middale to all the major cities of droll.
“There are more roads, but they all start on the other side of Middale,” said Celine as she explained that Middale, while not the biggest village on the Isle was one of the most visited. It’s place in the center of the Isle made its roads the main lifeblood of trade in Droll. “It’s why Lord Lamar is so important to the king,” said Celine as they started to walk more upwards into the hills. “It’s way quicker to come to Middale through the mountain passes then to sail around the island. Lord Lamar’s trade company is the biggest in all of Droll. His lands include three of the mountain passes. So that is why everyone is eager to marry Sibylle. The Lamar family is rich and considered one of the most important families in all of Droll. If a young lord married Sibylle, he would instantly become one of the most powerful men in the kingdom.”
“Blair has told me stories about some of the nobles who will be entering the tournament. They’re not very nice people.”
Celine shrugged, “When you lived in Winport weren’t you beat up by everyone? Did it matter if they were orphans or highborn?”
Lyric shook his head with a small grin, “Nope, they all disliked liked me, highborn and orphans.”
“That’s because they were all taught to hate anything different. You look different from us, that makes you something to hate. It’s dumb. This Isle wasn’t always like this but the dragon wars changed so much. That is not the point though. My point is that it doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor, there are bad people among both.”
Lyric nodded, Celine was right. He did know it, but the more stories about the lords the more he thought that the proportion of assholes might be higher among royals. He told Celine this.
Celine smiled and laughed. “Well, you may be right about that.”
The small path they were on became much steeper and they could no longer walk side by side, instead Lyric followed while Celine led the way up the mountain trail. Lyric had never been this high up before, and he started to notice some variations in the plant life and vegetation as they went higher. The vegetation was less sparse but there was some very pretty flowers and shrubs that had strange colors. Lyric mentioned this to Celine.
“Yes, they are very pretty plants,” said Celine, “but you want to be careful around them. Those pink and black ones are poisonous. The blue flowers are pretty but they smell terrible. You can puke if you get too strong of a whiff of their odor up your nose.”
Poison and puke, not the type of flowers that Lyric would want to pick for a bouquet to bring back to the house. It was a good thing Celine was his tour guide otherwise this would have been a rather unpleasant day of exploring.
Suddenly they were at the top of the small mountain and Lyric could see clearly for miles and miles. Behind the small mountain top which they were one were even bigger ones. He could see Middale and even the lands of Sibylle’s home at Redfall.
“See that dark strip below the horizon?” asked Celine. “That’s the sea. You can’t always see it from here, but on a clear day like today you can. Where that dip is to the east is Winport. Beyond that strip of mountains are prairies and then the sea again. Where we are now is almost the middle of the Isle of Droll.”
Lyric just looked around. He couldn’t really see Winport, but he could see the dip she had mentioned, he would happily never visit there again. The mountain range was daunting and formidable looking. Steep rocky cliffs and forests of thick growths of trees. All of it was beautiful and looked so peaceful from here. Lyric contently took in the beautiful view with Celine by his side. Today was a perfect day. “Thank you for bringing me here, Celine, this is wonderful.”
Celine leaned in and kissed Lyric. “You’re welcome. Now open up that basket, all this hiking has made me hungry.”
Lyric hurriedly sorted out the blanket and the various meats, cheeses, and fruit that made up their picnic lunch. Despite it being months of regular meals, Lyric still took great pleasure from eating. That he didn’t have to beg, steal, or scrape a garbage can to eat would never get old. But for the first time in as long as he could remember, Lyric sat down for a meal and he wasn’t completely focus
ed on food. Celine’s kiss was now replaying over and over through his mind as he chewed his food. The kiss had been so natural without a trace of awkwardness. She had just leaned in and gently planted one on his lips. Lyric couldn’t imagine trying to do the same without breaking out in sweat and nervous shakes. Celine was a wild tempest and to just be around her was enough for Lyric. That she seemed to enjoy his company was still strange, but Lyric wouldn’t complain. He had no idea how to talk to girls and had mentioned it to Blair during one of their solo training days. Blair’s advice about women had been confusing and vague. “Two things you really need to learn about women, Lyric. First, even when you are right you are wrong. Second, when in doubt say something nice.” Lyric definitely thought this was one of times when he was in doubt about what to say. “You have very nice lips,” said Lyric before stuffing another chunk of cheese in his mouth.
Celine smiled. “You’re learning,” she said before rewarding him with another kiss.
44
THE OLD SHEPHERD GAZED OUT AT THE SEA. The far north eastern corner of Partha, Balmora, were rugged and isolated lands. Old volcanic activity had created a land full of random rock formations surrounded by small seas of grasslands. Terrible for farming, the shallow amounts of topsoil didn’t favor any crops, but the tough grasses which grew under such harsh condition held high nutritional value, perfect for grazing animals such at the sheep he tended.
Layhir Levya, had been tending sheep here his whole life, as had his father before him and his before that. The Levya family was one of several families that had a special arrangement with the kingdoms to the south. Once a month Layhir would release a homing pigeon. The birds would fly hundreds of miles to the home of Baron Samidee, the closest ruling lord. In exchange for the service, of taking care of his pigeons and fulfilling the monthly task, the Levya family received guaranteed prices for their sheep, well above market value.
Traditionally, the Levya family would rotate family members into the remote lands. Every few years a man, or family if he had one, would move out to the range and tend to the flock and the pigeons. The rest of the Levya family lived well off the profits, but all swore an oath to take their rotation in the isolated lands. Levya had done three rotations as a younger man. Each time he would come back from the wild and lonely lands with a pocket full of coins and he would be the toast of the town. Drinks would flow when young Layhir entered a bar, friends would spend the night praising his name as he bought more rounds. Legs parted at his smile, and the fine meals he purchased when entertaining young ladies, and when his coin shrunk so would the toasts to his name. Ladies who willingly entertained him would give him cold shoulder. So Layhir would volunteer for another rotation in the wild lands. Replenish his coin and make another cycle of bars and women. Again the results stayed the same. When his pocket was heavy with coin, Layhir was the most popular man in town. When he was broke he might as well be a shadow. After Layhir’s third rotation into the wilds of Balmora he met his wife Nevaeh and quit going to the bars. Unfortunately for Layhir, his choice in wives was much like his choice in friends. When his coin ran out so did she. Layhir stayed in the city for a few years wallowing in his sorrow, living off the much more meager allowance given to family members who had not spent extra time in the wilds. The money was plenty to live off, but nothing compared to the coin he had collected while in the wilds. As Layhir spent more and more time alone in the city, he realized how much he missed the wild lands of Balmora and the simple life of a shepherd. Layhir made a deal with his family members, instead of three year terms, he would do ten year cycles at half pay. He would stay out in the wilds where he was happiest and the families could stay in town while receiving a higher percentage of the profits. An agreement that all were happy with.
After his third cycle of ten years, Layhir realized he was starting to grow old. His legs were not as capable as they had been as a young man. So he made a new arrangement with the family. He would take less money, but every year a young member of the family would come out and help him with the sheep and the pigeons. This arrangement worked wonderfully. A new generation of the Levya family started to fulfill their duties while Layhir had some company and help.
This year his helper was a young nephew, Brendon. Brendon was a nice enough boy, worked hard and had more than half a brain, something that could not be said for all of his relatives, but he talked more that Layhir liked.
Brendon enjoyed his time with Layhir. The old goat was cantankerous and swore like a simpian sailor, but he made excellent stew and let Brendon enjoy his favorite past time when not tending to the flock, painting. Today, Brendon was working on a painting of the coast. The sky was an exceptional blend of color this late afternoon. Golds and purples speckled with tiny white fluffs of clouds, against a deep blue foreground of slightly swelled seas. A small flock of birds was flying towards the shore. Brendon had the painting almost done, he just needed to focus on the birds to give his latest painting a focal point for the eye to find.
The gulls must have found a strong warm wind to float on as their wings barely moved. In fact, Brendon had never seen gulls with wings like those before. The small birds were fall off in the distance but Brendon had an eye for such details.
“Uncle Layhir, what type of birds are those on the horizon?”
Layhir frowned, annoyed by being disturbed by Brendon. “Which birds are you talking about?”
“Off the coast, slightly to the north. There are four of them,” said Brendon as he pointed out the birds to his uncle.
Layhir squinted and focused on the far away fowl. His eyes weren’t what they once were but he could make out the shapes slowly making their way towards the shore. He studied them. Layhir knew every animal in these lands, feathered or otherwise. The flight of the four shapes troubled Layhir. They were not birds.
“Brendon, go release a pigeon. One red stripe.”
“Are you sure?” asked Brendon, he squinted and raised a hand above his eyes, trying to get a better look at the birds.
“Yes, do it quickly,” said Layhir with an insistence that made Brendon jump to attention. He ran to the small hut which held the pigeons. He grabbed a brush and the red paint. The red paint had only been used three times in the centuries that the Levya family had been caring for the pigeons. Brendon carefully painted a stripe on a bird, and then another stripe on a piece of parchment that would be attached to the bird’s foot. He then released the bird into the sky, before running back to Layhir.
…
At the heart of the rugged lands of Balmora was Castle Blackstone, an ancient castle from a time when Balmora was a much more prosperous land. Now it’s ruler, Baron Samidee, lived in a much more challenging climate. One that was about to become even more troubled.
Baron Samidee swore, “Would someone get me another goblet of wine? This numbers are giving me a headache.” Sprawled overt the table were the year’s tax reports. It hadn’t been a good year for the Baron’s lands. A long drought had hindered crop productions and bandits had successfully robbed his wagons returning from his mines three times this year. To compound his troubles, his wife’s family were insisting on places in court for her brothers. Two of the stupidest men Baron Samidee had ever met. How to tell the family to piss off without feeling the wrath of his wife was a vexing issue that would not go away.
A servant sprinted up to the table.
“Ah my wine, it’s about damned time,” said the Baron.
The servant shook his head. “No My Lord, a message.” He handed the small piece of parchment to the Baron.
Baron Samidee stared at the parchment. Nothing was written on it. It had just one red stripe across it. “Bring me the bird which carried this message, and for the love of the gods someone get me some wine,” yelled Baron Samidee.
The servant ran off.
Baron Samidee slumped down in his chair and started to rub his temples. All thoughts of missing tax dollars and annoying in-laws forgotten. He had bigger problems now. The simple p
iece of parchment was a warning. One that he had dreaded ever seeing.
When the servant returned he held two birds. “What’s this?” asked the Baron even though he suspected he knew the answer already.
“The bird you requested. This second bird just came in. I thought you’d want it too.”
The first bird had a large red stripe down its chest. Confirmation that the piece of parchment was carrying its intended message. However, the second bird was much more troubling. One bird from Balmora with a red stripe was a warning that a dragon had been potentially spotted. The second bird was confirmation.
The second bird had four distinct stripes on its chest. Four dragons had been spotted!
The Baron turned to his servant, “Send birds to every lord in the kingdom, and convene my council. We have to prepare for dragons.”
The wild lands were owned by no man, no king dared to claim them, no lord would invest in them. They were truly free to the common man who dared to make a living among them. For while the wild and rugged lands were worthy of ownership, they were a stark reminder of the past.
45
“YOU NEVER COME TO THE TOWN DANCES anymore Celine. What’s the problem? Too busy with your new foreign pet?”
Celine glanced over at the next table of the pub to see who was talking. Jamison Tolle was sitting there with a group of young men. Celine knew all the young men at the table. She had flirted and danced with most of them at one point or another, some like Jamison she had even done more with. Jamison was an attractive man, big and strong with an easy smile and a way with words when he wanted. However, he was also too cocky and self-absorbed for Celine to stay interested in.
“Are you jealous, Jamison?” replied Celine. She was sitting with Arria, a pretty and petite girl that had been her friend from childhood, and wanted nothing to do with talking to Jamison and his friends, but Jamison had started this conversation so she would see where it went.
Lyric's Curse (Dragonblood Sagas Book 1) Page 17