The World of Myth Magazine

The year is 514, Vladimir the Young is Sage-King of the human kingdom of Thuraen.

The year is 5,297, Ulan is High Prince, Derek is Low Prince and Sienna Alknown is Mother Druid of the sylvan princedom of Greenwood Vale.

It was Sienna who woke Paechra the following morning at dawn. The ancient druid, she who was named as Alknown had come out from her cocoon of shelter, perhaps sensing that it was time for the army of sylvan to continue their journey. The High Prince Ulan waited respectfully a few feet away, pretending not to listen as the two women spoke.

“I have been told that we will be accompanied by another on our journey southwards,” the elder began, no greeting, no pomp or ceremony, straight to the point.

“Yes, mother druid,” said Paechra as she tried to stifle a yawn but failed.

“Enough of the dawn’s hours have been wasted already,” grumbled Sienna. “Arise girl, be a leader and ready us all.”

“But I must first speak with the boy,” said Paechra in reply. “I must know that he will be as useful as Sage Williamsons suggests.”

“Do what you must, but do so quickly,” Sienna ordered. “Rise, shine, eat, talk… The time to do all is now…”

“As you so command,” murmured the younger of the two.

“Command, demand, creak and croak,” scoffed Sienna. “I do not lead, I only speak.”

“And what we the listeners choose to do with such words is entirely up to us,” continued Paechra.

“I have taught you well,” Sienna then said, smiling. “Your mother should be proud, just as I am.”

Paechra nudged the sleeping figure of her friend Heidi, the pair sharing a tent.

“Come, it is time we were up,” the daughter of Sarah suggested.

Heidi groaned in reply and rolled over.

“Hmmmph,” said Sienna.

“Shall we find some sustenance?” suggested Ulan, offering Sienna his hand. “Would you care for a piece of fruit or something else to sweeten your mood, perhaps?”

“Perhaps…” Sienna agreed as she allowed herself to be led away.

“Come, Heidi, up,” urged Paechra. “I need your help to find the boys.”

“If I must,” groaned Heidi. “If I must…”

In truth, Paechra did not need Heidi’s help at all, she just felt that she needed her friend there, or someone there whom she trusted when she took the opportunity to ask about Raven. The two boys were already up, sharing a freshly caught fish between them. The sweet smell of coconut milk could easily be detected by both Paechra and Heidi as they approached the pair, along with a mixture of spices. Paechra’s stomach growled, but she chose to ignore her hunger.

“Is your master not with us, yet?” asked Heidi.

Yohan and Peter both shook their heads.

“We would be lucky to see him before midday sometimes,” said Peter.

“I am truly shocked to see you risen so early,” laughed Yohan, this causing Peter to pull a face.

“Now boys, please,” said Paechra, at her stern tone Peter’s fists uncurled and he somewhat relaxed.

“Would you care to share in our morning meal?” Yohan offered. “You can have Peter’s half.”

“No thank you, we shall find our own,” said Paechra.

Heidi made to speak, but then thought better of it.

“Now that we have found this pair, perhaps I may be relieved?” Paechra’s friend asked.

“I guess you may,” replied Paechra. “But do not return to slumber, you heard what Mother Sienna said.”

“I shall find for us something to eat then,” grumbled Heidi.

“And please send my mother this way, if you cross paths with her,” requested Paechra. The younger Lightheart still wanted someone to witness her questioning the boys, but it had become clear to Paechra that Heidi was not right for that role.

Heidi nodded but wandered away grumbling under her breath.

Paechra’s stomach growled again.

“Are you sure that you did not want to try some of our fish?” asked Peter, kindly.

“Fresh caught by this boy right here, not even an hour ago,” boasted Yohan, giving Peter a mighty slap on the back.

“I could perhaps keep you all well fed, should you decide to take me with you instead,” suggested Peter, hopeful as he smiled up at Paechra.

“I am so sorry, Peter,” said Paechra kindly. “You are quite book smart from what I have learned of Sage Williamsons’ words.”

“That is true,” said Yohan. “Book smart is good, no?”

“Good for a sage, especially a student sage,” continued Paechra. “But book smart is not what we are looking for, not what we need right now.”

Peter looked crestfallen when he heard this news.

“You are right,” the boy moaned. “I never get to do anything fun.”

“You love fishing,” Paechra suggested. “Don’t you?”

“I love reading,” admitted Peter. “I fish because the old man wants me to do it.”

“We would only have fruit to eat if Peter did not drop a line every so often,” Yohan agreed. “I’m a hopeless fisherman.”

“In fact, I hear that the fruit trees are tended by you also,” said the gruff voice of Anton as the Head Truth Keeper arrived.

Both Peter and Yohan bowed toward the older human, a sign of respect for his role.

“Yeah, that’s true,” said Peter. “Old Williamsons would need to part with some of his treasure trove if it were not for me.”

“Treasure trove?” queried Anton, an eyebrow raised. “Sages are not supposed to charge to record the words of history.”

“Well, you tell that to the miser still slumbering in his bed,” laughed Yohan. “I would be talking out of turn if I told you all the things that Williamsons does so far away from the heart of the kingdom.”

“Well, boy, we still have plenty of days on the road ahead of us,” suggested Anton. “I would be most eager to hear of everything you can tell me, leave no detail out.”

“Oh, please don’t,” said Paechra and Peter together.

“I can only imagine the trouble that you will land me in when truth keepers travel this far north to investigate,” sighed Peter. “Are you sure that Yohan is the one that you want to take with you.”

“Yeah,” agreed Yohan. “Leave me here with the old man and take little Peter back with you, home to his family.”

Anton looked from one boy to the next and then back again. He shook his head and then locked eyes with the sylvan.

“He wouldn’t even make it marching a day,” the head truth keeper said.

Paechra nodded.

“Sorry Peter, I agree with Anton,” she said.

Peter sighed and then took another mouthful of the fish. Paechra could see he did not even taste the food as he thought of home. The aura around both boys had gone from a dull orange to a washed out purple. She felt sorry for them, especially Yohan who really did not want to go. She wondered if either boy would choose to cause trouble, just for the sake of making a point. Paechra hoped to remember to regularly check in with the human boy, her short time with Raven in the city of Andrapaal had opened her almond shaped eyes to the emotional pendulum that was humanity. The sylvan’s thoughts then drifted to focus upon herself, and she examined how her own psyche had altered since visiting Thuraen. There was much to unpack, and right then was not the time.

“Cheer up, lads,” Anton suggested. “Yohan I am certain that there will be other opportunities for you to visit, and Peter very soon you will be wearing the robes of blue and if you are lucky you will find a station in the capital.”

“If there is an Andrapaal to go home to,” suggested Paechra.

“What do you know?” blurted out Yohan, almost choking on his mouthful.

“Now, lass, they are only boys,” said Anton.

“We have come from the city, and return there now, by the long route I guess you could say,” Paechra replied, ignoring Anton’s hidden warning, much to the human’s annoyance.

“How long ago were you in Andrapaal?” asked Peter. “Yohan has told me some stories and none of them are good.”

“We left early on,” said Anton.

“Just as the city fell and a vorsurk fortress rose up in its place,” butted in Paechra.

“So, the rumors are true,” moaned Peter. “I do hope that my family is all ok.”

“As do I lad,” said Anton as he frowned at Paechra.

“Yes, yes,” said the sylvan. “But more importantly I need to ask you about another human.”

“Paechra, perhaps now is not the time to interrogate the children,” said Anton.

“Nonsense,” said Paechra in reply. “Would you have me ask only Yohan my questions, and miss all of the additional information that Peter could possibly supply?”

“Yes,” said Anton flatly. “The child Peter offers nothing of value in my opinion.”

“Well, you are not the leader, you do not get to make the decisions this time,” said Paechra. “And I would ask you to save your suggestions for when the children are not present.”

“Boys need to learn early on just how to deal with disappointment,” huffed Anton. “The sooner they learn, the better for all of us.”

“These boys are sages in training,” said Paechra, calmly. “They are not your truth keepers that need to be given a week of sleeping in thunderstorms to breed some respect into them.”

“I spent a month in a cave in the snowy south, and that was all before I was ten,” boasted the old man. “It never did me any harm, made me the man that I am.”

Paechra looked with wide eyes of shock and surprise, from Anton to Peter and then to Yohan.

“This explains a great deal, thank you for sharing, Anton,” she said.

“We are not sleeping in thunderstorms, are we?” Yohan asked.

“Yes,” said the head truth keeper.

“No,” said Paechra at exactly the same time.

“Well, which one is it?” asked Peter.

Yohan stayed quiet, but Paechra saw his aura turn grey.

“You know better than any of us,” said Paechra quickly, seeing that Anton was ready to jump in with his own opinion. “Do you get many thunderstorms in this part of the kingdom?”

“Not during this time of year,” replied Yohan, relieved. “Further south I heard that the weather is far wilder.”

“Well then, you’ll be gladdened to know that we will not be travelling further than the kingdom’s heart,” said Paechra. “We should have no need to sleep in wild weather or freezing cold caves.”

“More is the pity,” suggested Anton.

“Please,” offered Yohan. “Master Anton, may we share with you our meal.”

“Why yes, thanks lads,” said the head truth keeper as he chose to sit with the boys. “I will never understand how these strange sylvan can turn down a fine feast.”

Silently Peter placed a fillet upon a stone plate and heaped upon the fish a hearty serving of greenery.

“Ah, no, thanks, boy,” coughed Anton. “Just the fish will be fine.”

“As you wish,” Peter mumbled.

Gently he removed the mixture of herbs from Anton’s plate to his own and then passed the fish over. As Paechra caught a whiff her stomach growled yet another time.

“It is delicious,” said Anton, turning to the sylvan. “Are you sure we cannot tempt you?”

“No,” said Paechra. “What I hunger for this early hour is information.”

It was just at that moment that Heidi returned with Sarah Lightheart, Mother Druid Sienna linking arms with the pair to make a humorous trio, stumbling along the shoreline.

“Good morn to you, Mother, mother, and friend,” said Paechra, bowing.

“Yes, greetings daughter,” said Sienna and then Sarah.

The oldest of the group now gathered took a look at the two boys.

“Will you not find for an old woman something to fill her heart, her stomach, and her smile?” she asked.

“I forgot the fruit,” sighed Heidi. “I shall be back in a minute.”

As Paechra’s friend rushed off, there came another growl.

“Have you not eaten yet, daughter?” asked Sarah, to which Paechra shook her head.

“No, she is hungry for something other than food,” laughed Sienna. “Or at least she thinks that is what she needs.”

“I know that these boys can tell me something,” suggested Paechra. “What Sage Williamsons thinks is merely gossip could have meaning that will be of use.”

“Use to us and our cause, daughter, or use to you and your own private quest?” enquired Sarah Lightheart.

Anton almost chocked on his morsel, and he quickly tried to swallow it.

“Private quest?” asked the older human. “When was I to discover about this.”

“My mother merely hints at my interest in Raven, Anton,” explained Paechra. “For those who know how to read an aura mine is obviously an open book today.”

“Hmmm…” said Sienna as she interrupted the conversation she was ignoring.

The mother druid grabbed one of Yohan’s cheeks and squeezed tightly.

“This one seems likely to be troublesome,” the ancient sylvan suggested. “Are you certain Paechra that you have chosen wisely?”

“As I tried to explain to everyone, including Sage Williamsons before,” said Paechra, on the edge of exasperation. “I did not ask to have yet another mouth to feed, especially not the responsibility of a child’s life.”

“Then please leave me here,” begged Yohan. “I simply love the sun, the sand, the warmth and the sea.”

“Your master wrote the words last night,” lamented Paechra. “Your fate and my fate are now intertwined.”

“Well then, if that is the case,” huffed Sienna Alknown, mother druid. “I shall have him as my personal servant.”

“And what pray tell does such a role require?” asked Yohan, unsure.

“I merely need my old aching feet to be rubbed each and every night, and a steaming hot bath run to keep my old limbs from stiffening up,” suggested Sienna. “Ulan has been doing such tasks thus far, but these belittle the high prince.”

“Surely you jest,” Yohan suggested.

“Boy, you are about to discover just how much of a jester this old woman can be,” laughed Sienna as she gave his cheeks a second squeeze. “Come now, gather your things and say your farewells, for it is high time we were back on the road.”

“Oh no,” groaned Yohan.

Peter simply smiled and gave his fellow sage in training a pat on the back.

“It seems, Yohan, you and I simply cannot escape our fates, as much as we dislike them,” sighed the boy who was destined to stay.

“It seems that the words you speak are true,” sighed Yohan. “But you were always far better at the truth than I was.”

“Come servant,” cackled Sienna as she hooked her arm in Yohan’s. “Lead me to your things and then we can add to them my own.

“Why me,” moaned the youth.

Sage Williamsons did not rise in time to see Yohan, the sylvan army or Thomas the Butcher and Anton, Head Truth Keeper of Andrapaal and Thuraen depart. Peter shrugged his shoulders and shook his head as he waved. Others of the township watched on too, but they did not seem too happy or too said to see off the visitors. Paechra and Anton were focused upon their own thoughts as the midmorning hour passed by. Paechra had taken her opportunity to ask about Johannas Stormsong, the one she knew as Raven. Peter had been about to recite many a verse from the tomes that mentioned a dark raven that was the right hand of Vladimir, Sage-King, but none of the words sounded to Paechra like they could have been her friend. Yohan’s gossip was far worse than the official ones Peter knew.

“The dark raven is a thunderstorm,” Yohan had said. “He strikes with the sword and keeps the city in his fearful gaze.”

“I always suspected that the boy did not differ much from his father,” Anton had added, but Paechra refused to believe.

“My experience with Michael Stormsong has been nothing but kindness and support,” Paechra had argued.

“I guess we will just have to agree that I am right, and you are wrong, and to leave it at that then,” suggested the head truth keeper, gruffly.

Even though Paechra had not wanted to leave things be, there, Sienna’s decision to take Yohan away with her had prevented Paechra from asking the boy any further questions. And, although Peter was still eager to show that he could be useful to Paechra, there was nothing else that the young sylvan wanted to learn from Williamsons’ writings. She vowed to make some time while they were on the road, thinking that Sienna could not keep the boy busy the whole journey.

“Did you discover what it was that you desired to know?” asked Heidi, side by side with her friend at the head of the column of sylvan.

“No, not yet, but I will,” vowed Paechra, finally accepting a plump and juicy fruit that was offered by her friend.

“I do not doubt it,” replied Heidi. “Not for one moment.”

And with that the pair led in silence, the munching and slurping of friends the only sound. Finally, Paechra’s stomach grew still, and the long walk was a pleasant one.

Not so pleasant for Yohan though, with him sitting beside Sienna in a wagon, pulled by a stubborn steed. Every few miles the old sylvan demanding of him some menial task or another.

“Why couldn’t have you just left me behind and taken Peter instead,” the young boy moaned.

“You have a part to play in all of this, young Yohan,” suggested High Prince Ulan who also shared the wagon.

“Do you see it?” asked Yohan.

“No, I do not,” admitted Ulan. “But I see how it is that Sienna looks at you.”

“Yeah, creepily,” suggested Yohan causing the prince to laugh.

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