Jirves


Chapter 1:
Arrival of the Wayfarer




It is a cool, quiet evening near the northern most part of mount Ojiraic. A lone cloaked, hooded, figure stands on the foothills over looking a little village nestled between Deepwood Forest and the Ogner River. His cloak was covered in dust, mud, and debris from many years of travel and was in desperate need of repair. A simple clasp held the cloak in place as a soft breeze tempted it to fly away.
The village, known as Bloomsburg for its unusual and unseasonal foliage, was rather small compared to the other villages nearby. It seemed to be constructed around a single manor. All other buildings sat in no particular order around the elegant house. The only street that seemed to have a plan was the one that led to the manor directly. Strait, lined with shops, and the only road that exited the village towards the south.
  A diminutive farm stood on the outskirts of the village. It had a small house and barn, with a field of freshly tilled land. The door to the farmhouse opened and out stepped a young women in a brown working dress, holding a heavy wooden bucket. She was shapely and had long, flowing, brown hair that fell to her mid-back. She had a simple beauty, nothing extravagant or over powering. Her dress did nothing to enhance her figure or appearance, yet she still had an air of grace to her.
A red eye flashed under the hood of the cloaked figure, as she turned to look at the mountain. She spotted the figure and stopped, as look of puzzlement crossed her face, as she stared at the figure. She raised a hand in greeting. The cloaked figure hesitated then waved back. Gesturing for the figure to come closer the young woman walked to the simple, and often hap-hazard wooden fence that bordered the farm. Hesitating again the figure, as if deciding it was safe, descended to the farm. As the figure did so the light of the setting sun caught his face and illuminated the features of a handsome young man, no more then 18, as it dipped behind the Junakis Mountain range. His dark brown hair framed a pair of crimson eyes and though his face did not show it, they gleamed with great wisdom and experience beyond his years. On his back, he carried an ornate claymore, which protruded from one of the many tares on the cloak, as well as bulging in places for a reason that the young women could not identify. She thought little of it though, it was most likely a pack, which was cumbersome and uncomfortable if ware on the outside. He stopped at the fence that young woman leaned on.

“Hello,” She said.
“Um... hello,” Said the young man.
“Are you new around here?” asked the young woman.
“Yes,” Answered the young man.
“My name’s Lessa Elikai, what’s yours?” she asked.
“Richard Drake,” he replied.
“How long do you plan on being in town?” Lessa asked.
“Not really sure.” answered Richard, a little puzzled.   
“Do you need a place to stay?” asked Lessa.
“Why” asked Richard.
“Well, Bloomsburg is pretty isolated,” Lessa, gestured toward the town, “so we don’t have an inn and we don’t get many visitors. Just the traveling merchants that come twice a year, and they were already here.”
“Oh…” said Richard, “I see.”
“Plus, it is getting late.” added Lessa.
“I’ll most likely camp in the woods.” Richard explained, his eyes drifted over to the edge of the farm where the forest grew wild.
“No, don’t do that, Deepwood Forest is dangerous at night,” She with a genuine concern, “You could stay here for the night, I have an empty room.”  
He looked back at Lessa, “You’re being awfully kind to a complete stranger.” commented Richard, “You don’t know where I’ve been or what I’ve done. I could be a wanted man,”
“I doubt that, if that were so you wouldn’t have just walked down to talk to me, let alone tell me your name,” She replied
There was a pause as Richard tried to recover from Lessa’s quick wit.
“I can tell by looking at you that you’re not a bad person,” Lessa said. “Besides you wouldn’t stay for free.”
Richard laughed, and then stopped suddenly, realizing he was laughing. No one but his mother had ever made him laugh. Yet this young woman, who he had only just met, had done so with such ease. He stared at her, but she just stood there smiling. There was something about this woman he realized, something he couldn’t identify.
Composing himself, Richard said “But I don’t have any money.”
“That’s fine,” said Lessa, “I’ll just put you to work.”
Richard laughed again, and then stopped himself. What was it about this woman that he would allow himself to laugh?
“Ok,” said Richard, shrugging, “I’ll stay. I’ll probably leave in the morning anyway.”
“Great,” said Lessa “do you know how to milk a cow?”
“Ahh… No” answered Richard.
“Ok I’ll have you chop wood instead.” Lessa said.
“Ok, I can do that.” Said Richard.
“Good. Cut it on the other side of the house, and the ax is against the wall, on the same side.”
“Ok.” Said Richard and he hopped the fence.
As he did so, Lessa saw a glimpse of red under the cloak. As Richard landed, the hood fell away and Lessa gasped. Richard had long pointed ears. They were over six inches long and as Richard stood, they drooped. His face was full of sorrow and worry. Lessa reached out in amazement and Richard backed away only to be blocked by the fence.
“What are you?” asked Lessa
   Richard just looked away.
“Fine, you don’t have to tell me, but I still want that wood chopped.” She said her hands on her hips.
Richard looked back in surprise, those who were different were ridiculed and hunted but she just stood there with a calm and warm smile. Then her face became serious.
“Well don’t just stand there,” said Lessa, as she began to push him toward the house, “go chop that wood or we won’t have any dinner.”
“W-what?” asked Richard.
“You heard me.” She said, “Move!”
“Ok, ok, I’ll chop the wood.” Said Richard.
He started toward the back of the house, and she stopped pushing. Then Lessa turned around and went to the barn with the bucket in hand. As Richard reached the back of the house, he put his hood back on. He found the ax where Lessa had said and began chopping wood. Night had fallen as Richard brought a large pile of wood into the house and placed it near the fireplace. Lessa was cooking a stew and Richard was entranced by its wonderful smell.
“Thank you” said Lessa “that’s enough.”
Richard surveyed the house. It had three rooms, one large room and two small rooms on the left hand side. He spotted a bed in one of the side rooms and guessed that is where he would sleep. The other room’s door was closed. The hearth was in the center of the right wall. Next to it was a small heated sand pit for cleaning the dishes and a rocking chair on the other side close to the far wall. On the far wall was a shelf with plates, bowls, and cutlery, hooks lined the wall hung with many simple tools for repair of the house and barn. An oil lantern was hung in the center of the ceiling and below it a small circular table with three chairs. A small window was next to the door and under it was a small side table with a sky blue vase. A single pink rose rested in it and many petals lay on the table below.
Richard made his way toward the table then stopped realizing that it was impolite to sit before the host, and doubly so for a woman. He turned and went to the shelf and gathered the bowls and cutlery. He set them on the table and lean agents the hearth. He wiped the sweat off his brow, as Lessa tasted the stew.
“It’s done.” She announced.
Richard handed her the bowls and she took the ladle and served them. Standing with her bowl in hand, she moved to sit down at the table. Richard followed suit. She folded her hands and began to pray. Richard folded his hands and closed his eyes. Though he did not believe in any God of any kind, he did not want to be rude. After a minute, he opened his eyes and looked to see if Lessa was done, she was, so he began to eat.  It was delicious; however, Lessa did not start eating. She just stared at Richard with a look of deep concentration. He stopped eating and met her gaze. As there eyes met Richard’s heart quickened. He swallowed hard.
“Um…Yes?” he managed to ask.
Blinking, she looked down at her food and began to eat. Richard stared at her for a minute, then feeling rude began eating again.
They ate in silence and when Richard was done, he got up and went to the cleaning sand. He cleaned his bowl in silence and returned it to the shelf. Lessa did the same. Then she sat in the rocking chair and stared into the fire, the same look for concentration fixed on her face. Richard didn’t want to go to bed before her, so he sat cross-legged next to her. She opened and closed her mouth several times before asking, “What are you?”
“I’m…,” Started Richard, “a dragon and may very well be the last of my kind. In fact, I’m not even that. I’m only half-dragon. My mother was human.”
“I see.” said Lessa still staring at the fire. “Why do you wear a cloak?”
“To hide what I am. Most would consider me a monster. My ancestors were hunted by yours.” He answered. “They were afraid of us. Are you afraid of me?”
“I’m…I’m not sure.” answered Lessa honestly.
“I should go.” said Richard standing up.
“No! No, please stay. I said I would let you stay and I will. At least for one night. I’d feel bad if I know that I forced you out in the cold and if you want to stay longer and you still work for me I’ll feed you and give you a place to sleep.”
“Thank you.” Richard replied.
“What’s wrong with your back?” Lessa asked.
“Huh?” asked Richard.
“Well your back isn’t…like a humans, it’s not flat. I felt it when I pushed you earlier.” She said.
“That’s because of my wings.”
“Wings?” Asked Lessa, turning toward him in amazement.
Richard stood and took off his cloak, turning his back toward the fire. With his back exposed, the firelight danced on the glossy scales of two red, seven and a half foot wings.
“oh,”  was Lessa’s only remark.