Young Writers Society

Chapter One

Yes my servant, lead my armies. Lead them against the weak and despicable. Destroy anything in your path. Attack the fortress by surprise and take the royal family. The two children I want alive, but you have my permission to kill the king. Find the maps and notes from the former ruler and return them to me. Strip the land of its wealth and life, gather all that it will provide. Yes, Carnae, child of darkness and destruction. Conquer and destroy.

His servant would be faithful to him, she had no choice. She was a slave of the dark lord, and she would be his hand in the taking of Erland and then Theals. The dark shadow of his lands would finally be known to all in the world as the deadliest terror to ever set its iron grip around them. The old one’s strength was failing and could no longer hide his lands from the sight of the world or bar him inside. He was free, and he would pour out his gathered power on all the lands his darkness could reach.

The sorcerer opened his eyes and lifted his head to see the Taaltic general kneeling before him. His dark and sallow face stretched back into a thoughtful grin. His hands gripped the edge of his stone throne and pulled himself to his feet.

“Is the second battalion ready to march?” He asked, his voice almost too quiet to make out the words.

“It is, Master.”

“You will lead them after the first battalion has taken their capitol city. Have you ordered your son to stay with me?” There was a hint of a snarl in his voice as he spoke, as if the hate was filtering out of him.

“He will stay. He is your servant as am I.” The general answered indifferently, his eyes still fixed on the floor.

“Good…” The sorcerer purred. He sat in thought for a moment, his chin cradled in his right hand. “You are dismissed, General.” Growling softly to himself, he sat back down in his seat. When the waning sound of footsteps told him that the general was out of earshot, he called out.

“Guard! Bring young Thisre and his companion to me.” He reached for a metal object that rested on the wooden table beside him. It was a long rod, bent into a twisted shape at the end. Muttering something softly under his breath, he waved his hand over a small container. A blue glow rose from it and it steamed terribly in the hot air. The substance inside the bowl was freezing cold. The sorcerer lowered the metal rod’s tip into it and let it stay, then leaned back on his throne to wait for his servants to arrive.

***

“Tristen? Tristen, a letter just arrived from Father!” A girl’s, or rather a woman’s voice called from the parlor. The woman looked to be about twenty years of age and had long brown hair that reached nearly to her waist, and bright green eyes. Her dress was a simple light blue with white stitching, the skirt being a darker shade than the bodice and sleeves. A silken sash that was the color of white silver was tied around her waist. The dress was long and flowing, but overall a simple garment, though richly made. The only ornament about her was a small silver necklace with a tiny silver pendant encrusted in little emerald stones. Her face was fair and merry, and though she was young, there was knowledge behind her eyes that exceeded her years. In her right hand she was holding an unfolded piece of paper with the wax seal broken. Her left hand was on her hip as she waited impatiently for her brother.

“Yes Aria?” A man’s voice answered. He stepped into the room. His face and hair bore a remarkable resemblance to the woman’s, and it was obvious he was just slightly older than she. His clothes were also made with fine cloth, his white trousers stitched down the sides with blue and silver, and his dark blue tunic was stitched around the edges with silver thread as well. The tunic bore the royal crest, a wyvern with its wings outstretched and its body encircling a golden star while in flight.

“Look, Father sent us a letter.” Aria handed the letter to Tristen, folded her hands in front of her, and sat back down on a chair draped in bright cloth. Tristen sat down as well, but leaned forwards and rested his elbows on his knees. He covered his mouth with right hand, as he usually did when he was thinking. His eyes scanned the page as his left hand held the letter.

(05-12-995)

Dear Aria and Tristen,

Greetings from Rye. I pray you are doing well with your tasks assigned. I would ask about the Banquet of Barons of yesterday, but I fear I will only hear complaining from the both of you. At least Sir Orrick was there, he always brings some light to the situation. Logically, of course. I wonder how his squire is doing. Isaac was it? I am glad to have that boy in my service, even if he’s not a knight yet. Was Sir Bernon there? He rarely comes to anything these days, being so occupied on the western border and all. He and Orrick really do cause a row if they’re in the same room for longer than ten minutes. Even now, I’m smiling in remembrance of that one feast we had last autumn. I’m still not sure whether Bernon and Orrick ever succeeded to stump each other with those riddles. I do remember Aeron stopping the fuss with that ridiculous conundrum he invented, neither of them could guess it! Don’t tell anyone, but I didn’t figure it out either. He and his Lady Wintershaw always brighten up the halls of Wayfeld. Their children are quite delightful…possibly excepting young Owen. That boy is nothing but trouble sometimes. In my business here, I’m dealing with a far relative of theirs. Cadoc is his last name, I believe. You remember his son, Evan. Good boy, that one. Cadoc is quite the politician; I’d be terrified to argue against him. He is actually helping to speed up dealings here, so I shouldn’t be gone too much longer anyway. I’m sorry you’re left there to tend to everything while I’m over here dealing with these lovely diplomats.

No matter, assuming you haven’t died of boredom, I have a task for the both of you, and a reward. In my room on top of my table is a small box that the lamp sits on. I need you two to burn it, there’s nothing but old unimportant things in there. You may look through it first if you like (the key is underneath it), but it needs to be disposed of. I will tell you why when I get home. I meant to do this before I left, however, with the bustle and buzz of the time it slipped my mind. Please do this, and when I return I will have a reward for you both.

I apologize for the brevity of this letter, there are many matters to which I must attend. My next letter will be longer and I will be less busy then. I should be home by the end of next month.

With all my love,

- Father

Tristen rubbed his chin with his hand and then took the letter in both hands, standing up. He had chuckled during the part about Sir Orrick and Sir Bernon, the two were old friends. He reread the last paragraph over again then handed the letter back to Aria.

“Don’t even think about going through that box without me there.” Aria was quick to put in, knowing her brother would get something in his head to do then do it without even thinking. “I want to see what’s in it.” She grinned a little, wondering what was inside the box her father had always kept in his room. She gracefully made her way to the door and opened it.

“We’ve both always wanted to see what’s in it. Ever since it’s been there.” Tristen put in, rising to his feet. He folded the letter carefully as it had been folded when delivered and set it on the small table by the cloth-coated chair. He walked through the open door as Aria held it.

“After you.” Aria snickered at her brother. Tristen rolled his eyes and made his way down the hall to the stairs. After walking upward for one flight of stairs, they walked down another long hallway that led to a group of rooms. The walls were draped in bright tapestries, decorated with various crests or the royal coat of arms. The stone floors were bare except for a long carpet running down its center. The windows were massive, towering well over Tristen and Aria’s heads. Some of them were stained glass with images of kings and noblesandknights with their armies, swords, and battle horses. Others were filled with plain glass, but no less magnificent as their tall panes reached high over the halls of the king’s quarters.

“I wonder why he wants us to get rid of whatever’s in that box,” Aria mused aloud, walking slightly ahead of Tristen as they reached their father’s bedroom, “it’s not like it’s anything important, obviously.”

“If it’s just nothing, then why does he want us to burn it?” Tristen asked as he unlocked the door. “I personally don’t have any idea as to what it is.” He shrugged.

“I think it’s some sort of secret.” Aria grinned, a hint of mystery on her soft green eyes. “Something he’s hiding from someone.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Tristen retorted, not in too harsh a tone. Besides, Aria was used to her brother always wanting to be right. Not that she liked it any more than the next person, but at least she knew what to expect.

“No it’s not, and you don’t know either!” Aria pouted a little, acting below her age. She walked over and took the lamp off the box. She didn’t pause to admire the large room and all its royal comforts, she was used to living in such conditions. Not that she took it for granted, but it was an everyday sight to her, just as a forest would be an everyday sight to a ranger, or a barn to a farmer, or armor to a knight. The walls in the bedroom were painted a soft blue-gray color and there were many pictures and tapestries hanging from them.

One painting in particular hung above the king’s bed, a picture of a lady with brown hair, green eyes, and a sweet and loving face. Her hands were folded in her lap and she was seated on a cushion. Her wavy brown hair was carefully placed about her shoulders, gently accenting her lacy neckline. Her face was smiling brightly, as if she was looking at something she truly loved when the painter caught her face. Her eyes sparkled. She was young and beautiful, and her dress was pure white with white gold patterns. Aria - and Tristen too - looked much like her, and it had always been one of Aria’s favorite things to look at in all of Wayfeld. Even as she took the small key out from under the box she glanced up at the painting and smiled.

She didn’t remember the real person from the painting, for she had disappeared when Aria was only a few months old. This was one of the reasons Aria and Tristen were so interested with the box and its contents, for it had belonged to their mother, the lady in the old painting. Discovering old memories was intriguing to say the least, though it always brought a tiny prick of sadness and a wish that their mother was still there. Even so, Aria and Tristen would rather remember their mother and hurt than forget her for the sake of painlessness.

“You want to do the honors?” Tristen nodded to Aria, who was holding the key to the little metal bound chest.

“Well…I think we should both do it. You open it, I’ll hold the box.” Aria picked up the box. It was surprisingly light. There was the sound of some small object sliding around inside as she picked it up. Her excitement grew as Tristen put the old key into the old lock and turned it, the rusty gears squeaking horribly. Tristen opened the box and Aria set it down so they could look through it.

“Just a bunch of old papers and drawings.” Tristen sounded a little disappointed.

“Well you didn’t think it was some kind of treasure, did you?” Aria smiled at him and poked his shoulder. “Look, isn’t all this so interesting?” She took out the old papers and began to look through them.

“If you like old grocery lists, then they should be interesting enough.” Tristen hadn’t been hoping for treasure, but perhaps the map to some. Or anything more interesting than a heap of old, worm eaten papers.

“Oh stop being such a drag. Come on, look through it.” Aria carefully took the papers out of the box and sorted through them. Tristen, though he would have liked to keep on pretending he wasn’t interested, ended up by her side and digging through the pile.

“It looks like some maps and notes or something. For sure maps. Look at this.” Aria handed Tristen a scribbled out chart drawn on the paper. She looked through the notes. They were mostly notes concerning the landscapes mentioned in the map. Two sheets of paper folded together were separate from the others and Aria picked them up and scanned them. She raised an eyebrow in interest.

“What is it, Aria?” Tristen asked as he turned around. He could tell she was interested in something. Looking over her shoulder he eyed the paper. “What’s that?”

Aria shrugged. “It looks like some kind of story, just really short. And only part of it too, and it’s just some scribbled notes. It’s not even written well. ‘I’ve found that they have power. I really didn’t think anything like that existed. Don’t know what it does, don’t know if there are more of them. Trying to learn if they’re chosen or just randomly given. Me…who am I?’” Aria finished the paragraph and stared at the paper. It didn’t make any sense.

“I can see why father doesn’t care about this, it’s a lot of nonsense.” Tristen stated as he gathered up the papers into a pile. Aria put her hand on his arm, still holding the papers in her hand.

“Hold on, don’t throw them out just yet.” She scanned the papers again and took the scrawly map in her hand. “I want to look at these again. You can throw out the others.” Aria tried to read the map. Some of it made sense, but most of it seemed to be from a make believe land. Not much was familiar to her. She refolded the map and put it with the hastily written note pages into her sleeve. She wanted to study them more, it would help to pass the time while her father was gone and when she was done with her daily tasks. She would get rid of them before her father returned as he had asked, but he had said she could look over them if she wanted in his letter.

“I don’t think I can burn this though,” came Tristen’s voice from the table where the open box sat. In his hand he held a small stone, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. There was a carving on it, an intricate pattern of swirls and circles.

“My word!” Aria lost interest in the papers and looked into Tristen’s hand. “What do you think that is?”

“Some trinket thing. Looks almost of gypsy make. Something someone carved into a rock. Wonder why father had it in here? Did he write all this and draw these maps too?” Tristen put his right hand to his chin again.

“Maybe it wasn’t Father.” Aria carefully took the stone from Tristen and looked at it. “Perhaps someone gave it to him? I mean, father never did like charting maps.” She handed the rock back to Tristen. It was smooth and flat like something that would go on a necklace, but it was too large and brittle to bore a hole through. It would crack if anyone ever tried. It was easy to see that this stone was very old.

Tristen shrugged his shoulders. “You’re right, but who?” He glanced into the fireplace at the smoldering papers. We’ll ask him when he gets home. I’d rather have the answer to this than a reward.” He tossed the stone up in the air and caught it again. “Guess I’ll have to do something about this, father told us to get rid of it.” He looked at the stone and then let it slip from his hand onto the hard wood floor. There was a clattering crack as it broke into two jagged pieces. Tristen raised his foot to stamp it with his heel and grind it up but Aria stopped him.

“Oh, why did you do that?” Aria knelt on the ground and picked up the pieces. “I want to ask Father about this.” She fitted the uneven halves together in her palm. We don’t have to destroy all of it.”

“Well, that’s what Father said to do, Aria.” Tristen’s tone became annoyingly bossy and Aria stood up.

“Oh hush. He won’t mind.” Aria looked at the broken stone in her hand. Tristen moved forward as if to snatch it from her, but that action would be childish and she’d probably get away before he could take it. He let his hand rest by his side.

“If Father gets mad, then it’s your fault.”

“Fine. But he won’t. I’m just going to ask about it. If he wants it destroyed then I’ll drop it off the highest tower in Wayfeld. I just want to know what it is.” Aria looked at Tristen in the eyes. “You won’t sneak into my room and smash it when I’m not there, will you?” Her tone made it obvious she didn’t think him capable of doing such a thing, no matter how much he wanted his way. Even so, she was cautious. Tristen was stubborn.

“Aria, I’m not that mean.” Her brother replied. “I’ll let it alone. Just make sure you let Father know that this was your idea. I for one don’t fancy getting on his bad side.”

“I will take full responsibility for whatever consequences he might provide. I do think through that he won’t mind much at all and if anything give only a simple word of reprimand.” Aria looked up at her brother and smiled. “I assure you, you will not be “blamed” for anything “wrong” done here.” She said, laying stress on the words “blamed” and “wrong” as if exaggerating the fact he was becoming bossy. Tristen seemed to take it lightly and not bother correcting her, his eyes still thoughtful as he watched the last ashes of the papers in the fireplace smolder and disintegrate.

Aria stood there quietly too, thinking of what might have been important about the papers. Tristen thought their destruction was caused by their lack of importance, but Aria guessed that they were something of great significance that was being hidden from something or someone. Not that a pile of poorly drawn maps and molded pages of journal entries could prove destructive to the kingdom, but even so she thought that their unknown origin must have been something important and threatening enough to be concealed.

With a sigh, Aria took a step for the door, breaking the silence of the room. Tristen shook his head as if waking for a dream and followed, glancing at the painting above the bed before exiting the room. Aria, though she had moved first, tarried longer in the room. She looked at the picture of her mother for a few seconds in thought, then turned, walked through the door, and closed it behind her.

[AN: I do know I need to work on the beginning, it's cheesy. Also if you're looking to keep reading this, let me know if you want to be tagged when I post. Also, I need a different title. I don't like the one I have.]