Song of the Sword, Page 2

The man stared at Ayden with slit pupils set in deep chocolate eyes. Neither made a movement except for the rising and falling of their chests and sides. Then, smiling broadly, the man removed the dagger from Ayden's throat and chuckled. He replaced the weapons in his belt as he stood.

  Ayden took the enormous hand that was offered and was pulled to his feet. "It's been a while since you've bested me, Volos," he stated breathlessly.

  Volos rolled his eyes and replied with an ocean-deep voice, "Yeah, an entire two days!" He released a contagious laugh, shaking his glistening bald head. "That's what you get for hiding next to a muddle bush," he said as he slapped Ayden on the shoulder.

  After regaining his balance, Ayden questioned, "A what?"

  "A muddle bush. The perfume from those flowers is used to make potions that confuse your mind. They're very effective."

  "Yeah, very. Interesting how Freya forgot to mention those to me before," Ayden said suspiciously.

  "She probably didn't trust you to know about it," Volos teased. "Anyway, now you know, so don't make the same mistake twice."

  "Don't worry, I won't." Ayden's stomach was still queasy. He knew Volos was right, though. Freya knew him too well. His mind was swimming with ideas of how to use muddle flowers for various mischievous purposes. Making himself sick to get out of chores was first on his list.

  The companions walked toward an enchanting waterfall. The misty water cascade over a shining cliff like the silver hair of a siren. Ayden briefly wondered if he'd ever meet a siren. His pulse quickened at the thought. According to Freya, sirens were beautiful and could take down any man in combat. Deadly beauty--always an intriguing combination!

  The crystal clear water invited the men to drink as they knelt by the pool at the base of the falls. Ayden studied his rippling reflection. His brown, sweat-drenched hair stuck together in spikes, making him look like a porcupine. He splashed water over his hair, taming it a bit, and then washed his face. The water dripped off of his narrow chin and returned to the pool, causing a series of ripples in the water. Ayden had pondered the mystery of where the water went; it was like the fountains in the OW, where the water seeped through unseen holes and pumped back up through the top of the fountain. These pools must have underground streams running from them.

  Ayden turned to watch his companion as he knelt by the water. Because of Volos' size, most people were terrified of him. If only they knew what a teddy bear he really was.

  After drinking deeply, Ayden removed his cloak and splashed the water against his heated neck. His head and stomach instantly cleared, and the tiredness evaporated from his body. As he stood, he accidentally knocked a clump of dirt into the water. He watched nervously as the sparkling water swirled madly around the dirt, attacking it. When the water calmed, no sign of the dirt could be seen, and the pool was perfectly clean and clear again. Ayden shook his head, fascinated. Even after coming to this place for four years, he was still awed by its magic.

  The companions walked toward the descending water. They reached the cliff face next to the falls, and Volos ran his hand gently across the smooth, wet rock. His large but gentle fingers pressed a tiny bulge shaped like a swirled snail shell as Ayden leaned in, but Volos whispered a password too quietly to hear over the thundering water. A crease formed as if a giant finger blocked the falling water, and the men stepped forward. Cool mist caressed Ayden's cheeks as he walked through the falls and into a damp, dark tunnel.

  He felt as if he was moving in slow motion through a half-dream as the sound of his and Volos' breath echoed eerily against the swirling jagged rock that surrounded them. He knew this was the enchantment placed on the tunnel to discourage outsiders from venturing through, and he focused on Volos' solid form and walked straight ahead.

  The men moved toward an opening framed by the spidery branches of a row of untamed caragana bushes. Like a window, the doorway revealed a modest cottage guarded by seven ash trees and a large red barn behind which stood a small apple orchard. Behind the orchard rested a metal storage shed. An 'S' shaped graveled driveway carried itself from this area and through a small grove of cottonwoods. Their seed floated lazily on the air like summer snow, cascading serenely to the grass and dirt road beneath them.

  Seeing that no one was watching, the men squeezed through the branches of the caraganas, the air compressing until Ayden thought he'd suffocate. But then the branches rustled slightly as if touched by the wind, pushing them forward until they stepped into Freya's yard and into modern reality.

  As the companions approached the storage shed, Volos took a small golden key and opened the padlock that held the doors safely shut. He entered the dimly lit shed and hung his daggers and sword tenderly on a royal blue cushioned wall.

  Ayden lifted his sword and grabbed a soft, white cloth from a hook to carefully polish the blade. He felt like a kid in a candy shop as he looked at the assortment of weapons that lined the walls of the shed. Some, such as the one he'd been using that day, were ordinary and used for training. Others, however, were encased with sparkling jewels, and the gold and silver on them shining so brilliantly, they could've been formed from the very beams of the sun and moon.

  They should shine, Ayden mused. Volos and Freya make me polish them enough! Polishing and sharpening the weapons was one of Ayden's many chores, along with feeding the animals, cleaning out the barn, raking leaves, mowing, doing dishes, and helping plant, weed, water and harvest the garden. In his opinion, he sometimes felt more like a workhorse than a person.

  Ayden complained about polishing the weapons, but it was the one chore he actually enjoyed. He loved holding them and allowing the strength and confidence that seemed to emanate from them to course through his body. He'd tried to show his friends from school the weapons once-and had been confused, enraged, and dismayed when he'd opened the doors and found regular garden tools. It had been humiliating. And, at that time, the only explanation Freya had offered was that, "People only see what they want to see". Then, she'd tried to make it all better with his favorite drink; hot chocolate and peppermint.

  Grumbling about the past, Ayden caressed the weapon with the soft cloth, allowing other memories reflection in its shining blade. A pang of loneliness touched his heart as he thought about Isabella. He wished she was still around. She was someone who understood his feelings. Shaking his head, he forced those thoughts away before they could get too far.

  Instead, he re?-directed his mind toward wondering why his guardians had waited so long to tell him about Shae Vale. If he'd begun his training at age nine or ten, he could've been fighting real battles by now. He was twelve when the shed incident had happened. And it had been another six months before Freya had told him the truth. That was after his thirteenth birthday. He'd only had four years of training since, when he could've had seven or eight.

  He moved the cloth along the now glistening steel blade. He scowled as he looked up to ask Volos, "Why did you and Freya wait so long to tell me the truth about Shae Vale?"

  Volos shrugged as he grabbed a jeweled dagger and sat next to Ayden on a wooden bench. He polished the weapon as gently as if it were a fragile egg. "I guess she was worried. You'd been through so much with losing your parents near that river and all."

  Ayden's thoughts danced around the bits of memory left floating in his mind like ashes on the wind. Terrifying flashes assaulted his mind; his mother screaming, his dad yelling at him to run, his ankles burning. To Ayden, rivers were things made of nightmares. He was an expert at avoiding fishing and boating parties.

  "Plus, I'm sure she meant to protect you," Volos added absent- mindedly.

  "Protect me from what?" Ayden abruptly ceased polishing to glare at Volos.

  Volos gave him a quick sidelong glance and shifted uncomfortably before answering, "From being a defender--and from life in general." He quickly put the dagger in its spot and left the shed.

  Rubbing the hilt of his sword more vigo
rously, Ayden thought,. Why do Freya and Volos always avoid my every question? I wish they'd stop treating me like a kid! He scowled for a while, rubbing the blade until the cloth tore.

  Later, after padlocking the shed, Ayden coursed his fingers through his disheveled hair and strolled across the dewy earth toward Freya's house. Not noticing the mud that his soft leather moccasins had collected, he walked through the door, leaving muddy footprints in his wake. He stopped and examined the inside of Freya's house. He remembered the first time he'd come here with his parents when he was young, and how he'd felt instantly at ease.

  Freya's house was simple. She didn't like to complicate things with a lot of clutter. And, even though she had fewer material possessions than anyone, Freya was the most content person Ayden had ever met.

  Everything in his grandmother's house seemed soft and comfortable. Even the fresh breeze felt soft as it blew lightly through the open windows, causing the off-white lace curtains to dance cheerfully toward a round oak table. A vase filled with mixed flowers Freya had picked earlier was displayed on the center of the table, sending a vibrant shock of color into the room. The smell of lemon furniture polish mixed with the perfume of the flowers, and an unmistakable aroma of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies wafted toward Ayden. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes and smiling as serenity wrapped around him like an old blanket.

  Ayden yelled and nearly jumped out of his skin as he opened his eyes. Freya was standing two feet in front him holding a mop and a bucket. She hadn't made a sound when she'd approached. "Sorry, dear. I didn't mean to startle you," she said as she held out the cleaning utensils. She smiled, causing creases to fan next to her eyes and around her mouth. The effect strangely made her look younger. Strands of silver hair rebelled against her tidy bun and hung loosely against her graceful face and neck. Her soft, colorful, loose dress rippled gently in the breeze. The way Freya dressed reminded Ayden of pictures of women in foreign countries who wore straight, colorfully bright, and beautifully simple dresses. In fact, that was a good description of Freya--beautifully simple.

  "Doing some mopping?" he teased.

  "These are for you," Freya replied.

  "What am I supposed to be mopping?"

  "The mud that you just tracked in on my clean floor."

  He looked down at his feet and the floor behind him. Three muddy footprints followed him to where he stood. "How did you know I tracked in mud? I didn't even know I tracked in mud--and I can see."

  "Ayden," Freya said, and he sighed. He could tell by the way his grandmother said his name that he was about to get a lesson.

  "What?"

  Calmly oblivious to Ayden's unenthusiastic tone, Freya continued, "Sight is not the only gift we are given to aid us. Sometimes we must rely on things unseen." He'd heard this many times, but stood and listened patiently, knowing better than to interrupt Freya.

  "Smell," Freya said as she inhaled deeply, just as Ayden had done moments before. "Touch," she ran one of her bare feet softly across the top of the soiled wood floor. "Sound," she stepped on a bit of mud that had already begun to dry and listened to it faintly crumble beneath her weight. "All of our senses assist us in every circumstance. And, when one fails us, the others work more strongly together to make up for the loss of the one."

  He knew that Freya's senses had intensified after she'd lost her sight while fighting beside her husband against a dark sorcerer. A brilliant flash of white light had erupted from his staff when she'd unintentionally destroyed it, burning her eyes.

  "But most importantly," Freya added, touching Ayden on the chest over his heart, "You must trust this." Ayden nodded obediently, knowing she felt his movement.

  "Now, kindly clean up the mess you've made. A mess left today will come back and haunt you tomorrow!" she said in a sing-song way. Ayden rolled his eyes as he took off his muddy shoes and placed them on a matt by the door. He listened to Freya hum softly as she re-arranged the flowers in the vase while he mopped.

  Volos opened the door and Jynx, Ayden's tonkinese cat, strolled in. His padded feet made no sound, but left small, muddy footprints over Ayden's freshly mopped floor. "Hey! Watch where you're walking!" he scolded.

  Jynx squinted up at Ayden with his bright, baby blue eyes and rubbed against his leg. His smoky fur, which grew darker at his ears, tail, and paws, rubbed onto Ayden's jeans. "Thanks, now I'll have to clean up your hair, too." He bent down and affectionately scratched Jynx behind the ear. The cat released a purr-filled mew before strolling to the kitchen in search of a snack.

  That evening, Freya motioned Ayden to come and sit with her and talk. Jynx trotted closely behind as if attached by some invisible string as Ayden walked heavily to a dining room chair. These talks with Freya were always the same. His training was going well. She was proud. Maybe, just maybe, sometime soon, he'd be allowed on a mission-all in good time. Those were her favorite words.

  Ayden quickly removed the whoopee cushion he'd placed on the chair for Volos and flopped it onto the floor. He grimaced as it made an unsavory sound. Ignoring the noise, Freya spoke, "Ayden, your training has been coming along marvelously. Volos sings your praises daily." She beamed at him.

  "That's great. Glad to hear it," he said mechanically.

  "My lessons with you about the plants of Shae Vale and their uses have been successful beyond all my hopes, as well," she said. He thought about asking why she'd failed to teach him about muddle flowers, but held his tongue.

  Freya smiled and placed a hand on top of Ayden's as he forced back a sigh. Just get it over with! he thought. He was tired and ready to hit the sack. "I believe it is time for you to begin your next level of training. In seven days, you and Volos will take a journey deeper into Shae Vale. There is a village, Lostar, which rests on the edge of a river. A black dwarf has decided to make his home there and is causing a lot of trouble. You will be responsible for removing him from the village and taking him to Hosgrow--a type of prison where he will be reformed or held for the remainder of his days."

  Taken aback, Ayden just stared at Freya. She chuckled, obviously sensing his reaction. Finally, he stuttered, "W-What? Really? Are you serious?" His excitement mounted with every question. Freya nodded as she blessed him with another radiant smile.

  It's about time! Ayden first thought. Then, he shifted uncomfortably. He'd been waiting forever for this day to come, to go into Shae Vale and fight actual opponents. But Freya had mention of a river; that familiar, stifling fear gripped his stomach.

  Freya spoke encouragingly, "You are ready, Ayden. Your quick thinking, reflexes, and sensitivity to your surroundings and to others are strong. But training with Volos isn't enough. You are needed for much greater things. You are needed as a defender of Shae Vale."

  Although Freya's words were strong, a worried crease formed between her brows. It was Ayden's turn to encourage his grandmother. Shoving aside images of monster rivers he said, "I won't let you down, Freya. And I promise to be careful."

  "I know you will. I have great confidence in you, Ayden. I love you."

  Ayden stood and gently embraced his grandmother. "I love you, too." They parted and Ayden bounded up the staircase and to his right where he entered his room. As he sat on the edge of his bed, his thoughts swirled around inside his head like spontaneous dust devils. In one week, he would finally begin a real adventure!

  Chapter Three

  Lostar