Magefable Adventures: The Summer Storm

Heimdall Thunderhammer presents

  An Eagershelm Publishing Adventure

  Copyright 2012 by T A Strout

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

  stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means,

  electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise,

  without prior written permission from the publisher.

  ISBN 9781301638024

  A cold breeze floated down from the mountains, the first truly bitter chill of the season. The leaves of the trees had all turned to the colors of the dawn; reds, oranges, yellows, with bits of amber spreading out from the stems. The harvest for the season had all been pulled and spread around the various stashes throughout Sapsward Village, hidden deep within tunnels and crammed into the hollow of the trees, where the cold and snow could not touch them. Extra blankets, thick clothes, candles, and firewood were all pulled out of those same stashes and shared between the various critters of the village.

  As was often the case on such frigid nights when the dark came especially early, the old ground hog Elder Burkus went to light a fire in the large hearth within the main room of Great Hollow, the largest tree in all of Verdancia Forest. It was a converging place for all critters, filled with countless rooms and hallways, a refuge for those that sought out warmth and comfort.

  “My favorite season is upon us,” Elder Burkus said with a smile as he used a piece of timber, string, and a pawful of sparrows’ down to get the first flame going. He tossed in a few logs from beside the hearth and waited for the fire to create a nice steady burn.

  He then crossed the room and climbed up the stairs, passing through several rooms and hallways that wound through the thick, ancient tree. Various lanterns that hung across the walls lit his way, leaving occasional dark gaps that he had to navigate by memory.

  Eventually he reached the kitchen on the far side of the tree and several stories up, where he poured himself a mug of cider which he had warming on the stove. He grabbed a dash of cinnamon and sprinkled it over the top, then inhaled a big whiff of the steamy top.

  “Mmm, a hot brew that will go perfectly with a good book,” he said to himself with a smile as he adjusted the small spectacles on his head.

  He left the kitchen and travelled back along the winding hallways and rooms. When he walked down the final staircase to the large room on the ground level he heard a scuffling and a cough. Then a few giggles erupted, but they were quickly muffled by a loud hush.

  Elder Burkus slowed his pace as he walked down the spiraling staircase. He carefully and cautiously peeked around the corner of the wall and found the floor cluttered with all the young critters of the village. They had all travelled from their homes scattered amongst the trees to arrive in Great Hollow, for they knew what such a fire meant.

  “Visitors, I see,” Elder Burkus said.

  All the young critters giggled. Several of them were out of breath from having hurried so quickly to the huge tree.

  “Oh, tell us a story, Elder Burkus!” a young squirrel maid named Bezra shouted from the middle of the crowd. She wore a yellow plaid dress with an orange belt around her waist. She was a young critter for sure, small in both voice and stature. Her large eyes and broad smile beamed up at Elder Burkus and made his heart stutter. How could he deny such an innocent request?

  “Is that what you’ve all come for?” Elder Burkus said with a chuckle.

  “Yes!” the young ones shouted with delight.

  “Well, I suppose then, so long as I can find my way to my seat,” Elder Burkus said as he attempted to maneuver through the crowd.

  The critters had left him a path to his chair, though a bit tight and winding for a ground hog his age. He passed by several birds in the back, stepped over some small mice and squirrels, then circled around a group of hedge hogs, dirt hogs, and ground hogs.

  When he reached his chair he plopped down with a sigh, sending a splash of cider up out of his mug and onto his wrist.

  “Oops!” he said he said as he raised his paw up to his mouth. He sucked the cider out of his fur as he looked out over the dozens and dozens of young critters waiting for him to speak. He then smiled and nodded towards them. “Well, what story do you want to hear then?”

  “Ooh, ooh!” the critters all shouted, excited to get their opinions out.

  “Tell us about the war with the birds!” A young dirt hog shouted.

  “No, hurr, tell us ‘bout ‘em rats!” a hedge hog said.

  “What about Mucky Mucky!?”

  “The spear hogs! I want ter hear ’bout them!”

  “How about a good old story of dragons!?”

  “The Princess and the Pinecone!”

  “Hurr, how ‘bout the Hedge Hog Three!?”

  As each of the young ones shouted out their own ideas, a little mouse named Timble stood up from the front of the group next to Bezra. His soft voice squeaked as he spoke. “Can ya p-please tell us ‘bout Durbin and Morro?”

  The crowd hushed as the little mouse spoke. It was not often that the two heroes of Verdancia Forest were spoken about in public ever since they had left earlier in the season, especially in the presence of Morro’s three sisters, all of whom sniffled at the mention of his name.

  “Ya!” a dirt hog shouted. “Tell us what happened to ‘em!”

  “We wants to know!” a ground hog said.

  “Oh, well,” Elder Burkus said as he took a sip of his cider. He swallowed then paused for a moment as he thought. “That is a great question. One which I would love to hear the answer to as well. Sadly, though, I do not know. They are off on some great adventure, I am sure of it. Some day they will return to tell of their travels. Not today though, not today...”

  “Well, then,” Timble continued, “can ya tell us ‘bout ‘em bein’ little ‘uns? I’d like ter hear that!”

  “Me too!” the others shouted, all nodding in agreement.

  Elder Burkus smiled. “Well, of course, for of that I do know a great deal. Where to start though, hmm...”

  Elder Burkus sat back and began his tale.

  “I suppose to begin the story, I must tell you of Marcus the Brigand. It was a day much like today, the first frigid day of the season, when Marcus the Brigand found his way to Sapsward Village. He was quite cold, and hungry too, I assume, as he had travelled from the far eastern sea, across the plains of Korel, and over the large mountains to arrive here.

  “As he had come from Mountscaler Vale in the north, Sapsward was the first village that he arrived at. He stumbled out of the trees, half in a daze. He appeared wounded but would not let me look at him. Kept to himself, quiet, and always bundled in a thick jacket with a ragged cloth wrapped over his skull and a large, well-worn wide-brimmed hat atop his head. I took him in here, in Great Hollow, and offered him the largest room on Birchwatch Hall. We all could tell that Marcus was no ordinary mouse, but he talked little of his past at first, didn’t even give me his name until a full fortnight of living here. I could tell he was hiding from something. Or someone...

  “By mid-winter he had seemed to have healed from whatever injury he had endured. He was up and about more, spoke more, and started to socialize with the critters of the village. He even came to our mid-season celebration, the Winter Solstice Dance, which is held every year in this very room! There he met the young mouse maid Talia. She was a lonely young girl, an orphan, who used to live here in Great Hollow, but she moved to a small room in a tree on the far side of the village when she had come of age. Marcus and Talia fell in love at first sight, or so I like to think, and they began seeing each other quite frequently from then on, often travelling th
e woods together, exploring, taking picnics in the cold snow and simply enjoying each others’ company.

  “Marcus started revealing more and more about himself after the dance. We learned that he was an adventurer. A captain of a ship! And as the season passed I could tell that he was feeling comfortable in this tiny village as he told about his daring escapades, fighting against horrid toads, stoat pirates, and the snake king Krissaa. His tales told of the four edges of the earth and everything in between! He even told us of when he met Leviathin, god of the water and sea!”

  “Whoah!” the young ones all screamed with excitement.

  “Then one day, just before spring, an otter showed up in the village. He was a salty old thing with one leg and several scars covering his face and body. Marcus and the otter retreated to the large room on Birchwatch Hall as soon as they were united. They were there for the entire day. I heard some shouts, quite a commotion, then silence for the rest of the afternoon. I feared something may have happened, as I did not know this otter at all, but I knew it was not my place to interfere. I paced the halls the entire afternoon, not sure of what to do, but by nightfall I knew I had to see! I opened the door—”

  The young ones gasped.

  “—But nobody was there. The room was empty, save for a single note, folded twice and left on top of the freshly-made bed. On the outside of the note was written Talia’s name. I