Grievous Cry
Book I
Chapter I:
Land of Gravince
In the land of Igros are two great kingdoms. One is called Gandriar and it is the larger kingdom that is leaderless ever since the king died from a disease and his only child went missing. The second is Hyland which has many hills which gives it its name. But in the southeast sits many hills with three towns on them.
The people call it Gravince. The villages here are nothing special but they remain at peace. East from the River of Getian and south from the Silence Woods. Mayton is the furthest village south and it holds vast farmlands everywhere. The second is the furthest east called Marton and it has many cattle. The furthest north is Merrierton and it is the largest of the three which holds the Festival of the Moon every year to celebrate the formation of Gravince.
Banners and flags now fly high every where across the villages. An old man walks towards the city of Mayton from the south. He is putting most of his weight on his staff. A long grey beard hangs to his chest. A pointy brown hat bends slightly to his left. A blue robe is fastened by a brown belt on his waist. The hat covers most of his face’s features expect the tip of his nose and his beard.
He travels up the road heading for the largest hill in the village. The sun is hot but the wind is cool and strong. Clouds cover the sun once in awhile. He approached the hill with a small stream running around the eastern half of the hill. A wooden brown fence covers a small house. Inside is dark but a woman sits outside on a rocking chair enjoying the summer day. The woman was fair and lovely with long black hair that covered a bit of her face. Her brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. She was wearing a very tight white shirt that revealed her belly button. A small black skirt reached a couple of inches past her thighs. A large brown belt held her skirt up. She was wearing brown boots that gave her a foot or two in height with red socks that came to her knees. She yawned extending her breasts as the man walked up to her.
For a moment the man stood silent gazing to the north and then turned his head at the young lady. His voice was deep but sounded respectful as though he was a king of a distance land, ‘what say you young Destinie? The day is long and the air is hot. The river gives off a great wind and your stream provides water. Is this not a day to be thankful for or does something trouble the fair maiden? I have traveled north and east and saw many things but the look of your face is that of sorrow.’
‘Geardrian’ Destinie said at last with a charming voice that could have men listen for hours, ‘the day is hot but I feel cold. Something doesn’t seem to be settling right for me. Ever since my dear Uncle Marth has looked himself in his room studying maps and books about distance lands and adventures.’
‘Aye. Your father-brother has been focusing on distance lands before you were born’ Geardrian spoke softly, ‘and he has many adventures he wishes the world to hear when he was a mere lad of twelve it was. Marth traveled with me nearly forty years ago...twenty years before you were born. We traveled across many lands and faced many dangers but alas tell me, what have you been wondering about?’
‘Let’s go inside my dear friend. The heat is no good’ Destinie stood and brushed herself off. The door of the house was light brown made of oak. Slowly Destinie opened and allowed Geardrian in first. She soon followed and closed the door and opened the curtains to let light in. Soon the house was lit. A table sat in front of a fireplace with many maps and books on it. Some books were opened and some had words circled.
Three chairs circled the table and a pot sat in the fireplace. The kitchen was clean and spotless and Destinie had made some fresh tea and gave a cup to Geardrian. The old man placed it on the table and sat down. He laid his staff next to the wall and took his hat off and took a small drink of his tea. Destinie sat down on the opposite end of the table. Geardrian looked puzzled upon looking at a book that read:
Tales of Igros by: Marth Silvers
‘I see Marth has been writing a book of his adventures’ Geardrian said after looking at the book long and hard. He placed his tea on the table and picked it up and opened the book to the first page.
Chapter 1: My Departaure
After packing up plenty of food and supplies I felt ready to leave. My guide was the famous Geardrian the Wise who is a dear friend of myself, my father, and my grand-father. A cheery old man but he can be quick to anger and will make sure to correct his or others’ mistakes.
Geardrian closed the book without reading and more and looked at Destinie and said, ‘you must forgive your uncle. He is old now. Come, tale my your tale of the year you spent since I been away.’
‘You are always willing to listen’ Destinie responded smiling. She thought for a moment and then started to speak, ‘I traveled to Marton to attend a private school for the year. It was alright but too many people thinking too highly of themselves. Silence Woods is no longer silence either. Belves have been seen running this way and that in large packs of twenty to forty. The Kiltons do their best to keep the Belves out but now there are too few. Uncle Marth has been heading in and out every week to Irony and coming back with something new or without something.’
‘I see’ Geardrian drank some more of his tea.
‘Mostly books and maps. He did return with a short sword which seemed very odd for someone that needs no weapon’ Destinie continued, ‘sometimes at night I see a black figure riding to and fro for the past month. It seems very odd. The horses had glowing red eyes and I believe there are three or maybe four of them. They come by late at night mostly around two in the morning. My guess is they do not want to be noticied. That’s basically it. Not much has happened but tale me of your adventures.’
Geardrian was deep in thought as the sun slowly begun to set. A man entered the room with black hair and green eyes. He was wearing a blue shirt with a yellow strip and had brown pants with black boots on. Geardrian looked up and said happily, ‘Marth my dear friend. About time you joined us on are merriment.’
Marth looked at Geardrian and told him, ‘I must be off soon my old friend but alas I will return by the morning for the Festival.’
‘I hope you are in time’ Geardrian explained, ‘for if you are not surely your niece here will be very worried and I myself shall be worried as well.’
‘You need not worry for me Geardrian’ Marth responded quickly, ‘I must be off now. I shall see you in the morning, both of you.’
With that Marth left through the front door and rode off on a brown horse with white spots heading northeast. Destinie looked out the window but he has passed a hill and a house and was out of sight and she sighed, ‘Geardrian...come. Let us walk the village to allow others to hear your adventures.’
‘Very well’ Geardrian spoke softly putting his hat back on and grabbing his staff. Destinie and Geardrian walked down the hill from the northern route and headed into town. Children stopped playing when they saw Geardrian walking down the path next to Destinie and they yelled for joy and ran down the hills to see Geardrian, ‘many children. Do you wish to hear my tales?’
At once all the children screamed, ‘yes Mr. Geardrian!’
Geardrian sat down on a bench and so did Destinie. The old man yawned and begun, ‘after my deparature I traveled quickly to the east. Through many forests I passed and through many villages I saw. But my tale is about the creature of the sea...the Malkero. I was riding down south following the river when the beast of scales and teeth and tentacles and claws emerged.’ the kids gasped, ‘but I drew my sword and sliced off a tentacle of the great beast followed by another until it fully emerged and tried to assault me. With sword in hand I threw it with all my might at the creature Malkero and SLICE! The beast was slain. The body fell into the river along with my prized sword that I had for nearly two hundred years.’
‘You have so many stories to fill a library’ Destinie exclaimed when Geardrian finished speaking, ‘your life is filled with adventures and mine is filled with loneliness.’
‘Aye. But everyone has one adventure worth speaking. You just haven’t found it yet’ Geardrian said as though he were talking with himself, ‘but sometimes you have to go into the world and make it known that your adventures are worth saying.’
‘You speak wise Geardrian. Must by why so many call you Geardrian the Wise. Is their no man wiser then you?’ Destinie questioned.
‘Of course there is my dear young maiden’ Geardrian answered in amazement, ‘Saigfred the Wise is his name. The lord of Ethian in the land of Hyland. Head of the council and counsels me when I need of it. Traveling their and back will take three months if I don’t stay too long. Saigfred has been on Igros for at least five hundreds years more then I have. He is kind, powerful, and wise beyond all others.’
‘He sounds like a great man. Does he wear your colours?’ Destinie asked another question.
‘No. He wears no hat and his robe is white and so is his belt and staff’ Geardrian explained to Destinie, ‘he traveled all across Igros and has many books and maps about the world since its creation.’
‘You speak very highly of him. You must respect him a lot then’ Destinie stated standing to her feet, ‘I guess we all have someone we look up to and highly adore.’
‘That is true. One who believes he is greater among the rest will truly fall and be defeated’ Geardrian told the fare maiden Destinie, ‘but you have many years ahead of your life. Once your time has come I’m sure you shall have an adventure worth speaking of and you shall pass it to your children and they will pass it to their children and you will be spoken of for many years. I can see it.’