AUTHOR'S NOTE: Read this like the historical excerpts from The Warden and the Wolf King, that's what I was going for. “Though Eremund was young, the Fire was great which burned with hope and love inside him; love for his sister and hope for her rescue. And that Fire burned not only in Eremund’s heart, but also in his eyes. His golden eyes flickered with the Fire like two bright candles in the dark.” -From The Legend of Eremund the Brave as translated by Walliam Perdus, Symar House Publishers, 3/356
During the early years of the Third Epoch, Annieran life flourished under the reign of the great High King Orlach Wingfeather and his wife Ani, the Queen. The King’s Throne Warden, Lyra Wingfeather, was as beautiful as the flash of her blade and the verse of her tongue. Whenever she wasn’t keeping a diligent eye for the King’s safety, Lyra was prudently training Orlach’s precious son, Eremund, to be an honorable Warden. Kylian the Song Master would dash from Castle Rock to Rysentown singing of Orlach’s son, a blessing from the Maker himself. And a great calm dwelled among the royal family and the people of the Isle of Light.
It came to pass early in the year 48 of the Third Epoch that Queen Ani gave birth to a second child, a daughter, to be the future Queen of the Shining Isle. But alas, Ani grew increasingly sick after the delivery, and she was taken into the Maker’s keeping. At this a heavy grief fell on Orlach, so great that he would not leave the upper chamber of Castle Rysen. And the crown of High Queen was given to the child, and she was named Nayani, because at her birth came Ani’s tragedy.
Years passed, and Nayani’s heart grew faster than her mind. It was said that she had the spirit of her mother, on top of her own vivacious personality. Sadness ceased to torment the King at the sight of his daughter whom he loved so much. And the peaceful liveliness returned to Anniera once more.
One cool night in the sixth year of Nayani Wingfeather, two small sailboats docked in Pennybridge port. Shadows drifted among them- shadowy forms, forms of people. And the forms ascended the hill to the south towards Castle Rysen. The only sound as they scaled the wall towards the North Spire was the rustling of autumn leaves in the wind. Little Nayani didn’t even wake until she was on the Symian ships, sailing away from her home, from Anniera.
Eremund tore the ancient parchment to shreds. All this planning, this searching, and for what? Another map.
Attack!
Eremund stared through the ship’s porthole up towards Symia. Empty Symia. His Fire now burned with something more dangerous- anger.
Attack!
No, he was the Throne Warden.
ATTACK!
But he was supposed to protect.
By the light of the midsummer moon Eremund hoisted the sails and set a course for the Plonst Strait. He didn’t want to have to deal with, well… with trolls. But the Symian pirates had left the boy no choice. Either way, the man said this could happen.
Shortly after the capture of Nayani Wingfeather, the Throne Warden came to Yorsha Doon seeking answers. Unfortunately, in Yorsha Doon, answers rarely mean truth- and truth always means danger. Therefore Eremund found himself in the presence of Hakim Heshibal, the most powerful man in the Woes, for he reigned over a third of the (gardenious!) Furrows of Shreve.
Upon hearing the news of Nayani’s capture, Hakim sent his servant to retrieve a map of the Woes of Shreve, which divulged the location of the Symian mine. He also lent Eremund his ship, the Wyrmwake, and a small crew. Eremund took this with much gratitude as Hakim asked for nothing in return. And so the Warden sailed.
By the year 57, Eremund Wingfeather had been seabound for two years. He knew the crew well by now, and they treated him like royalty. This only made his longing for Nayani’s safety worse. To ease the pain, he would tell them stories- stories about his sister and how, even though she could be irritating and stubborn at times, she was still loved.
The ship docked in Symia around dawn, and Eremund took two of his best men, Rowag and Pabu’um, with him. They snuck through the dingy streets and past strange stalls advertising all manner of wares: gem-studded daggers, “extract of charrot”, and a big sign which read ‘GRUMBKIN’S BEASTLY BONES: Coming Soon.’ But when they arrived at the Symian hall, Rowag found a handwritten note nailed to the doorpost. A grim silence fell upon Rowag as he handed it to Eremund.
To whoever finds this, please send word to the High King of Anniera:
I write in urgency with haste, for my capture is imminent. Your daughter is in grave danger. The Symians are selling her to the Praxons, the most fearsome tribe in Southeastern Dang. The princess is being transported to the Palace Sakah in the Salt Wastes, through the Plonst Strait, past the edges of all Annieran maps. Send your son, the new Throne Warden, to come rescue her. Stay near your sister, the Throne Warden. If you must seek counsel with the Maker, please do so. I sign this letter with my name, in the hope that it will solidify our trust. You of all people understand the risk of this act, but I fear no punishment from evil men.
To the future Throne Warden:
This will be a great test of your wit and strength, but I fear it to be necessary. The trolls will not be fond of strangers barging through their waters. Their speed in water is, for lack of a better word, striking. Do not attempt to cross their borders without the enclosed relic from Plonst (a peace gift) or the trolls will find you hostile. Once you make it to the Salt Wastes, await my messenger at the main port. Makerspeed to you.
-Winthrop Flavogle, an ally of the High King, Anniera, and of the Maker
Even as Eremund departed once again, the Maker watched over Aerwiar. Aerwiar’s prayers went up to their creator- and He would answer them.
You may remember this book from a certain footnote in North! or Be Eaten. Okay so short story long, this was also made for the Pembrick's Creaturepedia short story contest a while back (which was limited to 1000 words which is so little, and REALLY held back my creativity, forcing me to treat this like an excerpt from The Warden and the Wolf King instead of a real short story), but apparently I didn't get the memo that it was supposed to be about a fuzzy creature. Silly me =D
I loved this! You should write a part 2!