Newest Project
Hey everyone.... It's been forever sice i've done this but meh. I'd like to introduce you guys to a project of mine. It is rather old, but it's getting a major revamp so I'm going to post the new intro here. Please give me input and spread it around so I can hear from other people too. Thanks.
I remember a time when this bleak and dying world was healthy, and when magic pulsed like a living beast in the land. I had a friend, a nervous, withdrawn boy, and an elf if you can believe that. He was a good-looking boy, his light-brown hair, cut short, almost looked like a golden field of grain. His laugh made the world seem new, bright, and peaceful.
A smile cracked my old pale lips at the thought of Wren. My quill hovered over my paper as my thoughts summoned Wren’s face as a spectre in front of my eyes. ‘Wren’s pale blue eyes sparkled with what most would mistake as naivety. His expression frozen in a wistful smirk. I still remember how only the right half of his mouth would curl just the slightest amount, and a faint dimple would mar his cheek. A boy once asked him why he smiled so, and he replied, ‘The humor of it all.’ Never have I seen a man more sorrowful.’
My candle guttered out as a cold breeze greeted my home. My wooden door shut with a slight sigh as a soft voice chided me, “Grandpa, your eyes are bad enough. You know writing by the light of your fireplace isn’t good for you.”
My grand-daughter was bundled up against the cold winter of upstate New York. Her rose cheeks and reddened nose were framed by white fur, and in her arms were two heavy looking, brown paper bags.
“Let me take those for you dear.” I rose from my cluttered desk, my old frame groaning with protest.
“No, it’s cool. I’ve got these.” Rachel gave me one of her dazzling smiles. ‘She must break all of the boys’ hearts at her high school,’ the thought ran through my head.
“Is there anything else in your vehicle?”
Rachel shook her head as she set the paper bags on an empty counter-top. “Mom gave me this stuff to bring to you.” She pushed back her hood revealing stark black hair, with her bangs colored red.
“Your hair changes colors every time you come here,” the words tumbling from my mouth. ‘I can scarcely remember her original hair color. A light-brown, almost to match Wren’s.’
Rachel flashed another grin back at me, this time with a shrug. “I like it. You’ve got candles, matches, paper….you know the usual stuff.”
“Are you going to stay for supper?”
“Of course. You know I wouldn’t miss a chance for your cooking. Besides, I always like something hot in me after a cold drive through the snow.”
I shake my head slightly at the words, the sexual innuendo not lost on me. ‘Like a child who learns a new word, they spout it like a tool no one has heard of before.’ “I’ll go get some more deer. You get yourself warmed by the fire.” Grabbing my cloak as I spoke.
“Why do you wear that blanket? You should get a down jacket; they are soooo warm and comfortable.”
“I find wool to be warmer, and dear, it’s called a cloak.” I pulled my cloak tight around me as I lifted the latch.
The wind grabbed my legs and gnawed on my exposed hands as I opened the door. ‘She will mature with age. Experience will teach her more than any lecture ever could. She’s still just young.’ My train of thought led me to another youth I knew. “Wren.” A sigh escaped my lips as I drew the door shut and plodded through the snow to the meat shed. ‘He was believed to be naïve by most people, but no, he was the best of people. And I was the worst of people, and I proved to be more naïve than he seemed.’
With a push, the meat shed door opened, revealing a small room filled with ice blocks and small packages wrapped in paper. I tugged at one of the closer packages, breaking it away from the ice and frozen blood. Turning, I closed the door and followed my tracks back to the one room cabin. The ticking of Rachel’s vehicle grabbed my attention for a moment. ‘A truck…’ I reminded myself while struggling for its name. I lifted the latch to enter my home. ‘A Chevy.’
Stepping in I was greeted by the sight of Rachel organizing my desk. I closed the door behind me, tossed the package onto the rough wooden table. The resulting sound startled Rachel.
“Oh, your back. Ummm…..looks like you fell asleep while writing again.” Rachel held up my most recent endeavor to write about Wren. On the page was a large blot of ink that consumed the last word.
I shrugged, “These things happen when you get old.” I removed my cloak and hung it on a peg next to Rachel’s jacket. Absentmindedly my booted feet moved to the rag by the door, and wiped themselves off. Then proceeded to wipe up the snow Rachel and I had dragged in.
“Your not that old, you still have some black hairs in your beard.”
“But I feel more ancient than the mountain I live on.”
Rachel gave me another smile.
“Get yourself to bed; you’ve got a drive ahead of you still. I’ll wake you when supper is done.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Rachel snuggled into my bed.
I moved to the black iron potbelly stove. With a sigh, I took down a knife to start preparing supper.
“Rachel, are you ready to eat?” I gave her shoulder a slight shake to be rewarded with a Groan. “Rachel.” She gave my hand a push as she clawed her way through the covers.
“Yeah, I’m up, I’m up.” Rachel stretched and gave a yawn. “Thank you, that was nice.”
I gave a slight chuckle while fetching the thick venison stew waiting on the stove. “You children, every generation get more lazy. You should say what you mean, not shorten what you say.”
“But then I might grow up to be a long-winded bugger, like some people I know.” Rachel collapsed onto her chair.
“I’m not so long-winded, as you say, when your not here. I spend most of my time writing.”
“I write too when I’m not here, it’s called Instant Messenger. By the way, you should get a computer.” Rachel’s eyes glazed over a bit as I set the stew on the table.
“I’m too set in my ways to get a machine, and I don’t get energy here.”
“What’s in it?”
“Do you know herbs?” I started serving Rachel her portion.
“Well, no, but I can learn.”
“And I can learn to use one of your machines.”
“Are you being facetious?”
I just grinned at her and served myself. Supper progressed quietly until both of us had finished eating.
“So grandpa, who is this Wren of yours? Is she your girlfriend?” A coy smile graced Rachel’s features.
“Where have you heard of Wren? Where you reading my writings?” I retorted, a bit to harshly.
“No.” Rachel’s expression was one of shock mixed with pain. “I…I heard you whisper her name when you went to go get more deer.”
I sat down with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. Yes, I’ll tell you about Wren. Wren…….” I gave another sigh and settled into my chair. I sat quietly, thinking about my words. “He was an old friend of mine.”
* * * * * * * * *
The breeze weaved it’s way through the gently bowing blue-green grass. The grass caressed a boy with eyes of the most pale blue, and this boy stared into the sky, the stars retreating from the warm glow of the dawn sun. A contented grin sat lazily across his features.
A retinue of guards crossed the field and destroyed the boy’s peace. “Wren Talisson.”
“Are we going so soon?”
“Yes sire,” the leading guard averted his eyes downward as the boy stood.
“Then let us not disappoint. Am I supposed to be bound?” Wren brushed himself clean of any offending grass.
“Only if you struggled.”
“Would my dearest uncle prefer me to be bound?”
A secondary guard broke into the conversation, “Sire, we would take the lash before taking you to the trial bound.”
Wren’s gaze turned to the new voice, “Did my uncle request that I be brought in bound?”
“Yes,” The guard withered into a older crestfallen version of himself as he uttered his reply.
“Then bind me.”
The last of the three guards pulled a thin rope from a satchel and proceeded to bind Wren’s hands behind his back.
The third guard broke his silence with his only three words, “I’m sorry, Sire.”
“I know.”
The guard tightened the rope, and Wren gritted his teeth as the rope grated across his bare wrists, taking skin with the twine.