A E Johnson

by alice johnson

  dusted the air. The sun on his skin was warm, but

  uninviting. Stepping back into his cold stone room he

  took a leather bag from the floor of his room; opening

  it he took a small vial out. A shining blue liquid lit his

  face.

  He quickly walked towards the sink at the side of

  his room, he pulled the wooden plug down from

  under the sink and filled the basin. Placing a single

  drop from the vial into the sink he waited for the water

  to begin a swirling blue. He plunged his head deep

  into the cold water.

  Opening his eyes, Grendel could see a dark room,

  from the darkness stepped Harelda. She was a slim

  woman, her frail frame spoke of an ageless power, a

  long blue cloak covered her, shining caramel hair

  flowed around her, a few flecks of silver showed her

  age, but added to her presence, reaching to her waist.

  Her petite features and large eyes rang of the fearsome

  power she held. Her age had not touched her perfect

  skin, perfectly pink, small lines of age around her eyes

  were the only blemish her face held.

  “You have news,” her soft dominant voice echoed

  through the dark room.

  Grendel replied with a low tone, “Not of Brenin,

  or Branwen,” he shook his head, “I do bring news of

  the Unknown Girl,” he said with a wonderous tone,

  “You need to meet her, she is remarkable, I have seen

  many things in the world but this is something else.”

  Harelda barked, “Enough of the dramatics,

  Grendel, tell me!” She did not care for those who

  minced their words.

  Grendel knew he could not create suspense with

  his queen; she was a woman of few words.

  “She was found in Farhope, the only survivor,

  taken to the camp in the north, Brenin saw her and he

  has adopted her into his care. She is currently cared

  for by Mord, while he conducts business. The girl is

  strange, she holds power, of that I am certain, but I

  also think the girl may have the blood of the torbs.”

  Harelda asked with a cynical tone, “What makes

  you say that?”

  “She has wings, not yet formed, her blood is hot,

  not warm, she holds promise,” his voice was filled with

  a plea to his queen.

  Harelda stepped further into the room, the water

  where the face of Grendel appeared from was placed

  upon a plinth, the room was carved stone, upon the

  plinth was a large round stone basin.

  “Watch her,” ordered Harelda, “soon enough I

  will see for myself,” she said with a low grumble.

  “Now, have you heard word of the new commander?”

  she asked with a more pressing tone.

  The stories had fascinated Harelda, she had

  followed him for a while, and now she wanted to meet

  the new champion of war.

  “Brenin is in Marrion, he should be returning as

  we speak, I’m sure he will divulge everything relevant

  upon his return,” assured Grendel.

  Harelda slowly blinked, her haunting dark blue

  eyes were a maddening black in the darkness. “Very

  well, Grendel, stay safe, the world is trembling,” she

  warned.

  Instantly he pulled his head from the sink, pulling

  the plug the liquid drained. Taking a towel; he walked

  back to his bed and sat. Ruffling his wet hair with the

  towel, he could not help but be concerned for

  Harelda, her ever growing need to see the new

  commander was odd for her.

  Grendel eagerly awaited Brenin’s return. He had

  taken to watching Librye as she made her way each

  morning into Brenin’s chambers.

  A cold winter moon had brought a frost to the city

  of Cronnin that morning. The afternoon sun battled to

  thaw the frozen ground, to no avail. As Grendel sat in

  Brenin’s chambers, he could not help but watch

  Librye, slowly making her way through the vast library

  of books. He was completely dumbfounded that at

  such a young age the child showed such promise. He

  would often ask her questions about the book she had

  read, each time, she answered perfectly.

  “What are you reading now, Little One?” he

  looked towards her curled up on the balcony.

  Her eyes peered from the pages of the book. “It’s

  called Ailment of Alchemy, fascinating,” she

  commented, “it’s about the repercussions of using bad

  alchemy.”

  “Ah,” grunted Grendel. His eyes remained staring

  towards her, fascinated with her abilities, “dark magic

  takes from its user, just as it does its victim. As with the

  ancient arts, to take a life using magic, would bring

  punishment from the ancient spirits.” He suddenly felt

  rather disturbed, at such a young age she was learning

  about the iniquitous side of something as glorious as

  magic.

  Finally, a carriage approached the main gate to the

  palace. The crunching gravel outside stirred the palace

  guards as they straightened themselves on the palace

  steps.

  Brenin had returned, but the unrest he had created

  would have to wait. As Brenin made his way from his

  carriage, he bolted through the doors and headed

  directly to his chambers. Brenin nodded at the

  insistence of his council to call a meeting. A vacant

  smile broadened his face as he continued his path up

  the stairs. Brenin began to remove his leather gloves,

  he passed them to one of the several staff who

  followed him, another took his cloak.

  Mord soon came scurrying down the stairs towards

  him.

  “Sire,” she gave a languid bow. “I managed to sort

  her room,” she quickly followed him up the stairs, the

  rush seemed all too much for her. “However, she has

  opted to spend her time in your chambers,” she

  quickly explained.

  Brenin listened and gave a quick nod as he flicked

  his brows, he could not wait to finally see Librye, he

  had thought of nothing since leaving Marrion.

  “Is she well?”

  Mord panicked as she tried to explain, “She will

  be,” she stuttered. The rush was all too much as she

  raised her voice, “Sire, please stop!” She stopped at

  the top of the stairs. Brenin froze in his tracks as he

  began to turn towards the mezzanine. Brenin lowered

  his brow and listened intently. “Thank you,” she

  sighed, “Grendel stayed, it was lucky,” she explained

  as she walked towards him. “Her, ailment,” she

  awkwardly said, “A few days ago, I couldn’t wake her,

  as I stepped into her room, I came upon a scene of

  carnage, it appears that the issue she’s been having, is

  somehow, growing,” she tried her best to explain.

  Brenin furrowed his brow, he was trying to follow

  what Mord was saying but struggled.

  “For goodness sake!” he said with an annoyed

  tone, “is she well?”

  “She is now,” replied Mord, “but her shoulder-

  blades, her back, they grew, it pierced her
skin,” she

  abruptly said, “Grendel has it in hand, but I believe

  he’s sent word to Sonnin, to our good queen

  Harelda.”

  Brenin nodded as he placed his hand on the door.

  “So long as she is well, Mord,” he softly said. He

  seemed to hold little concern for what she had told

  him, although his eyes drifted to the door handle

  before he stepped in. He stopped at the door and

  looked to Mord. “I will need to speak with you soon,

  alone. Before dinner, please, join me here,” he

  requested. Mord gave a low nod and left towards the

  kitchens.

  Stepping into his chambers, Brenin was greeted by

  a look of utter confusion, as Grendel sat at Brenin’s

  desk. His hand caught his chin and feet were resting

  on the desk as he stared towards the mezzanine, the

  many papers upon the desk had been sorted into large

  piles at the side.

  Grendel turned to see Brenin step inside, he

  lowered his legs from Brenin’s desk and remained

  seated in Brenin’s chair. Brenin made his way towards

  his desk, his brows raised with a look of incredulity.

  “Apologies,” said Grendel as he stood, he slowly

  walked towards Brenin, his hands were behind his

  back as he glanced towards Librye. “I’m fascinated

  with your girl,” he was impressed with Librye, she had

  shown an ability he had never before seen, and her

  compassion towards those who had shunned her was

  shocking to Grendel. “Having spent many days with

  her, I feel suitably educated.”

  Brenin made his way towards the stairs of the

  mezzanine. He raised his brow, giving a wide smile.

  “I hope she hasn’t been causing any issues?”

  Grendel walked closer, his voice was filled with

  wonder as he explained, “Well, during our journey

  here, the conversation was some of the most

  interesting I’ve ever encountered. Her love of nature

  truly matches the fey, but she has several other

  attributes.” Librye noticed that they were talking about

  her, she gave a quick glance over the mezzanine, then

  quickly looked back to her book. “However, she

  shows a need for secrets, certainly like the ggelf. I’m

  yet to see the powers you spoke of, but I’m sure

  they’re there, strength also, she’s strong but this will

  need testing, other than that, she is remarkable,” he

  said with approval. He joined Brenin as he made his

  way up the staircase. “All children are remarkable of

  course,” he continued, “but some, are more so, than

  others.”

  As they made their way to the top mezzanine; they

  saw Librye sat at the end surrounded by books. Her

  head was buried deep in a book, her dark hair trailed

  over her shoulders as she sat with her legs crossed.

  “That’s odd,” mentioned Brenin as he turned

  towards Grendel. Grendel pulled his brows down with

  a lingering question. Brenin whispered, “In the camp,

  her hair, I’m certain, was auburn?”

  Grendel raised his brows. “There is nothing

  surprises me with her,” he replied, he did not whisper.

  “She is the changing girl, her eyes change every

  morning, like the days, her hair could also follow the

  patterns of the seasons?” a tone of wonder filled them

  both.

  The shoeless vision he had seen in the camps was

  far removed from the girl who now sat atop his

  mezzanine. She was a wonder of nature, but she was a

  beautiful and frightening one.

  “She likes reading,” said Brenin, seemingly

  impressed.

  Grendel replied with a high, impressed tone,

  “She’s been here for three days, reading. She’s so far

  read seventy-eight books, the girl is odd, but she is the

  most beautiful example of odd I have ever seen.” He

  swelled with pride as he looked to Librye, still sat

  clutching her book.

  “I did tell you,” said Brenin. He knelt in front of

  Librye.

  Her eyes drifted from the book she was reading;

  the book was a difficult one.

  “She also has perfect hearing and can understand

  everything you are saying,” her sarcasm instantly

  caused Brenin to smile.

  “How have you been?” he asked.

  Librye did not smile, she looked Brenin dead in

  the eye and said, with a tone of annoyance, “It doesn’t

  take that long!”

  Brenin drew back. “What doesn’t?”

  “You were in Marrion,” she said with a high tone,

  she slammed her book closed. “You should’ve been

  back three nights ago.” As she stood, she held the

  book in her fist, her other hand also began to ball, her

  shoulders were hunched forward.

  “Apologies,” he said trying not to laugh at her

  innocence, “we got caught up, in Roma, the taverns

  there can be difficult places, it’s vital I meet my

  people, Librye, but now I’m back, I can spend the

  next few turns with you,” he said with a growing smile.

  “And the council,” she abruptly answered, “they

  aren’t happy with you,” she warned. “Or your new

  commander.”

  Brenin stood; he looked to Grendel. “How do you

  know that?” he asked as he peered around the room,

  “don’t tell me, your secrets?”

  Slowly she shook her head. “Beside the door in

  the main hall, there is a large door, through the door it

  leads into the walls of the council hall, I got bored, so I

  went in, I decided to explore,” she admitted. Mord

  came into the room, she heard what Librye was saying.

  “The new Commander, in the west, they said he is a

  berserker, they don’t want him leading an army, they

  seem convinced he will be dead soon. But they aren’t

  happy with you either.” Librye stood, she took

  Brenin’s hand as she began to lead him down. “I think

  you need to stay home for a while, it will calm the

  council, not everything is about rushing,” she softly

  said with her tiny brows raised. Her dress followed her

  down the steps as she made her way to the bottom.

  Following Librye from the mezzanine, Grendel

  and Brenin made their way down.

  “I see she’s been busy,” said Mord with a smile as

  she looked to Librye. She held her hands to the front

  of her and looked to the floor, “I’ve tried to keep her

  busy,” she explained. She quickly glanced towards

  Brenin, she seemed shy as she did. “With a girl this

  bright, in the pages is the best place for her.”

  Brenin walked towards Mord, he placed a hand on

  her shoulder, making her jump slightly. He stood tall,

  his tone was low and soft. “You did well, Mord.” He

  turned to see Librye. “Librye,” he leant towards her,

  “sometimes, I get very busy, the palace is a very hard

  place to live, how would you like Mord to become

  your attendant?”

  Librye greatly received his offer as she looked to

  Mord. Her eyes brightened. “I wo
uld love that, more

  than anything.”

  Mord looked to Librye, she softly said, “And so

  would I.”

  The call for dinner finally rang, Librye quickly

  made her way to the kitchens in the bottom hall. To

  Librye, the staff there were much more interesting

  than the councillors. Remaining in his room, Brenin

  waited for Mord. The door to his chambers slowly

  opened.

  “I take it the flash I saw on the stairs was Librye?”

  she asked as she stepped inside, “the girl likes her

  food.”

  With a grumbling laugh, Brenin lifted his head

  from looking at the vast amounts of papers on his

  desk. Scrolls spilled onto the floor. Mord stepped

  towards the desk and began to pick the scrolls up from

  the floor, to help neaten the area.

  “Please sit, Mord,” he softly said, his tone was

  strange, he seemed to have grown an age, following his

  journey to Marrion.

  Mord lowered herself into the chair opposite his

  desk. She looked with her mouth slightly gaping

  towards him. Brenin looked her deep in the eye.

  “I’m sure you are aware by now, Librye is the child

  you found,” he nodded, “you found hope, Mord,

  Librye is without doubt a remarkable child, but as she

  grows, she will become the power we need.” His voice

  deepened to a darker tone; his eyes looked through

  Mord. “We have a new world heading towards us, I

  have given you the duty to care for Librye, because I

  know she will need it.”

  Mord felt strange. The innocent child she cared so

  much for had already been through more than most,

  she did not care for Brenin using her name in the

  same conversation as war.

  “She will struggle.” She rang her hands in front of

  her, “she’s not like us,” Mord looked directly towards

  Brenin, her heart felt weak as she glared towards him.

  “She will need help, from all, the fey will need to help

  her, even to the extent of the dragons.”

  Brenin raised his brow. “I see,” he grumbled,

  “well, I will expand her education, King Bushwell will

  be sure to want to meet her, as well as Harelda.”

  “Just remember,” snapped Mord as she quickly

  stood; she gave Brenin the first warning he had ever

  received from a commoner, “she is just a child, she is

  not a weapon of your war, she is not a fighter, she is a