Artham sat in a tree reading a book he had gotten on his fiftenth birthday a few days before. It was thrilling, there were dragons, and warriors, and is was all in a world that doesn't exist.
"Artham!!!!" a very farmiliar voice called to him from under his tree perch.
He looked over the branch to his left and saw Arundelle standing under the tree. She was smiling up at him.
"I have a late birthday presant for you." she said.
Artham scurried down the tree and stood before her.
She smiled, "I finished it this morning." she handed his a little scrol.
He grinned at her and started reading it out loud.
Artham Wingfeather brave and true,
A galent lat, and warrior to
He gives up all he has for you,
to protect the king you'll love, so true
A protector of his brother king
Till his live lives no and king as slain.
"Wow," Artham said. "This is very poetic, but it doesn't sound like I do my job to well."
"Well, it was the only thing that rhymed." Arundelle said. She handed him a red ribon to tie around the scroll.
He took her hand and they both started strolling down a mossy path shaded by trees.
"Do you think I'll make a good Throne Warden?" Artham asked Arundelle.
She looked at him. "Of course? Why wouldn't you be? Your brave, and kind, and smart. And you love your brother."
Artham nodded. "I am just afraid I will fail him. I don't want anybody to hurt him."
Arundelle was silent. "I want to show you something." She let him into the trees. they walked in silence for a few minutes, and then Arundelle stopped in front of a mossy wooden door. It was carved, but Artham couldn't tell what it was from the moss and vines covering it.
Arundelle sighed. "I found this a while ago." she pushed the door open, and led Artham in.
It was a little clearing surounded by a tall hedge. Large blue flowers grew on thick vines. A small swisted tree sat in the middle surounded by small smooth stones. tall emerald green grass grew all around the clearing, and many different colores and shapes and sizes of flowers pocked out of the green blades. Artham could hear a trickle of water and saw a little stream snaking threw the grass.
Arundelle breathed in the smell of the flowers. "It is beautiful isn't it?"
"Yes." Artham said.
"Come look at this." Artham fallowed Arundelle to the tree. she moved away some vines, revealing words carved into the dark trunk of the tree. Artham leaned closer until he could read them. He gasped.
The resting place for Malya Wingfeather
Throne Warden to Madia Wingfeather.
Beloved daughter and sister.
Artham stared at the words.
"My mom said she dyed when they were younger, she was protecting Madia from a bear in the Green Hollows. She saved her. Artham, that is what it means to be a Throne Warden. Protecting Esben from danger. Even if you die doing it. You just have to do the best that you are capable of. The Maker gave you what you need. Don't doubt him. Everything is in the Makers wonderful hands, your life, Esbens life. I know that you will do everything in your power to protect Esben, and that is what makes you a good Throne Warden." She sighed. "I wish I could tell you that everything will go well. Your only one person, and your a very good one, but you can't do everything. Trust the Maker, that is what I am saying. He knows what will happen."
Artham looked into her eyes, tears in his own. "Thank you Aru."
She smiled. "Any time."
"ARTHAMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Esben called. He wondered into the clearing, "Aaarth oh, there you are." He walked over to them. "What are you doing?" he bent down and looked at the words. "What are you looking at. . . ugh. Does this say we are standing on a grave!? Yuck!" He ran out of the clearing, then pocked his head back in. "Come out of there! Your standing on a dead person!"
Artham and Arundelle laughed. Then fallowed Esben out of the clearing and back up the path.
"How old is Esben?" Arundelle asked as they watched him cartweel around.
"Ten." Artham replyed.
"He is very energetic." Arundelle noted.
"Well I wonder what gave you tha," he was cut off by Esben slamming into one of the tree a frew feet in front of them and to there left.
"Ouch!" he sat up and rubbed his nose. "That hurt!" a crack sounded above him. One of the larger branches was braking!
"Esben!" Artham shouted. He ran to Esben and pushed him out of the way. There was a crunch, as it hit Artham instead.
"This is very poetic, but it doesn't sound like I do my job too well." 🤣🤣🤣
I think it's safe to say that Arundelle grew in her skill so that she could write poems that were both true AND complimentary!