Fire… burning everything that surrounds the senses of a young elven girl. She feels the cold breath of fear on the back of her neck. Picking herself up off the ground, she begins to sprint through the crumbling spires that currently are being engulfed by the raging inferno. Not to lose her path, but to avoid running in circles in the maze of fire; she keeps making random turns and keeping track of it in her head.
Left.
Right.
Right.
Left.
Left.
Right.
Now, ahead of her in a clearing. An orcish figure kneels on the ground, his heavy mace at his side and what’s left of his robes, drenched in blood and covered in ash. A cloaked figure approaches the fallen half-orc, plunging a dagger into his back. On the cloak, the girl notices her own family crest and can’t help but shout, confused and terrified:
“FATHER??!!!!”
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***
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“Wake up, your highness! It’s okay. It’s just a bad dream.” A motherly voice says as the young elven girl wakes up. The room is warm and comfortable from the heAs she sits up, she brushes her ivory bangs out of her face. Her hair is short and messy from the night of sleep prior, She is panicked, but slowly realizing it was just a nightmare. The girl’s feet fall to the floor and she looks up at the woman who stands before her.
She is a shorter fox-kin woman wearing a red dress, covered by a white apron that is belted to the dress. In her hand, a broom that she has resting on the floor with her holding the handle gently. Her hair wavy and red like a violent ocean of fire, yet her demeanor reflects the opposite of violence. Her scarlet eyes say she has been through a lot, yet full of love and care nonetheless.
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“Miss Fuchs..?” Nalaea questions softly, still waking up.
“Yes, Heiress. I heard screaming while I was sweeping the corridor, so I used my skeleton key to check in on you. I was told it was for emergencies only, and I definitely qualify the King’s daughter screaming as such. Are you okay?” Roter asks concerningly.
“Do you know if my father had anything to do with the burning of a village?” Nalaea asks.
“I… uh… um.” Roter sputters, shocked by the question.
“Never mind. It’s probably just a bad dream, like you said.” Nalaea responds with a yawn close behind.
“Anyways, now that you’re up. Would you like to come with me? I was just about to go and check on the rest of the maidstaff in the kitchen. It’s almost breakfast after all?” Roter asks confidently, with a smile.
“I’d love to see everyone! It’s been too long. I remember when you all taught me how to fry eggs.” Nalaea says with excitement.
“You know we got punished for teaching you a “servant’s job,” right?” Roter winces, rubbing the back of her neck.
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“What do you mean? Cooking isn’t a servant’s job, it’s a genuine life skill that I might need to use someday. Which guard did it? I’ll have them fi~.”
“I can’t risk losing my job. I can’t say. I’m sorry Nalaea.” The fox interrupts.
“Roter, why do you want me in the kitchen?” Nalaea says firmly.
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Miss Fuchs looks around, “I need to tell you something regarding your nightmare.” She says. “And I don’t feel safe doing it here.”
As Roter finishes her thought; a barn owl, brown and white in color, flies into the room through an open window. Upon landing softly on a rafter, it grips its talons and stares down at Nalaea. Roter swings her broom up at it.
“Get out! I said, Get! You nosy owl!” Roter shouts as the owl flees the mighty broom. Roter then mutters to herself. “There’s been a lot more birds flying into the castle than usual lately.”
While she is occupied with the owl, Nalaea walks out of the room. Entering the long corridor which seems to stretch forever, the cool air of the hall nips Nalaea’s senses. Just outside of the room, there sits a cart of cleaning supplies. As she steps down the calm and empty passage of Castle Greyleaf, she begins to hear a voice from within her head. The voice is unfamiliar to Nalaea which she finds as strange, having that she’s lived here and been around everyone who works or lives in this castle her whole life.
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“Great work, Yavari! Your training is coming along well.” A deep orcish voice echoes in her head.Nalaea winces, the words sting her brain like a sharp migraine but is gone as fast as it came.
Continuing down the corridor, Nalaea passes doors that line the corridor evenly after every third pillar on her right side. On her left, tall stained glass windows that line the hallway.
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Red.
Blue.
Red.
Blue.
A soldier of the castle, in full armor, walks past Nalaea.349Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRlvspuuBX1
“Good morning, your highness.” The soldier says with a chipper attitude, as he continues down the hall.
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Red.
Blue.
Red.
Blue.
The next opening past the blue stained glass window, is a door. She grabs the handle, pushing it open.
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“Hit the road, boy. You’ve done enough damage to not only my students, but to this monastery.” The orcish voice echoes more, and again; Nalaea winces. She walks out of the door and onto a balcony, the sky is a faded blue. The clouds softly release their rain to the ground below. Nalaea leans over the stone railing at the edge of the balcony, her hair slowly fading warmer as the rain covers each part of her short hair. Nalaea’s head is getting louder and sharper. While she is surrounded by a cold rain, she can only feel the blazing inferno from her dream.
“Raeburn, over here!” The orcish voice exclaims.
“The children. The fire. It was too much. It was too far late by the time we arrived.” A young woman says.
As Yavari’s cries enter Nalaea’s mind. Nalaea herself cannot hold back the tears anymore. The emotional weight of that night was too much for the Princess of Kyoguild to handle. She turns around to face the door that she had left open, and sits on the wet ground. Her dress, now soaked and borderline ruined. As Nalaea cried, so did Yavari.
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Nalaea looks up at the roof of the castle, where the barn owl sits and watches.349Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSVWY8mapow
“What could I have possibly done?” Nalaea states out loud as the words echo in her mind from the young tiefling.
“Nothing. You weren’t born yet when it happened.” Roter says, now standing in the doorway.
“It wasn’t a village, it was the last druid monastery.” Nalaea says.
“I.. uh.” Roter starts before the Princess interrupts.
“Don’t you lie to me too. You and Father are the two I trusted most. I never knew my mother, so you’re the best I had. You can’t just lie your way out of this the way my father has for years. He’s told me since I was a child that the vampire king caused it. What else has he lied about. What else have you lied about, Roter?”
“Nothing! All I wanted to do was to help you.” The fox says.
“I have been kept here, in basically isolation, to train and learn about the so-called ‘amazing’ and ‘legendary’ spells my father has learned before me. I have been told countless times that the throne given to me as my birthright is built on a legacy of honor, a legacy of nobility, and a legacy of trust. All three of those, I see now as lies. I don’t trust you. I don’t think I ever will be able to again. I’m sorry, Roter.” Nalaea softens her voice, starting off sounding loud and almost demanding; she now speaks soft.
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“Where would you go if not here? This is peak Werewolf season. You might not last out there.” Roter asks.
Nalaea stands up on the railing, turning to look at Roter.
“Goodbye, Miss Fuchs.” She says as she leans backward and falls off of the railing. Roter dashes to where Nalaea was just sitting, trying to look over and see any sign that she is alive. Roter begins to cry uncontrollably, she punches the stone railing until her knuckles begin to bleed. The moment her blood touches the standing water from the rain. The barn owl drops to the ground behind the fox. It grows and shapes itself into the body of a large elvish man wearing red royal garments with belts and buckles. He approaches Roter, placing a hand on her shoulder and simply saying, “There is nothing you could have done, I’ve been expecting this to happen to her for some time now. She’s gone Roter. Do not dwell feel guilty over this. This is not your fault. It’s her own. This is no more your fault than when those vampires killed your mother.” The elf king says. As the fox girl stops herself from sobbing; her sadness turns to anger. she says.
“I will finish my tasks today and all the pre-work for tomorrow. But tonight will be my last night working for you. After this, I just want to be with my sister.” Roter claims.
“That’s fine. Thank you for the twenty years of work. As of tonight, you will be formally dismissed.”
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***
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The Legacy of Greyleaf
Stories from Kyoguild #3
The Owl That Flew In
Eveline Brooks
ns 15.158.61.54da2
