Monday, December 19, 2011

The Search for Ravenblade

Letian was a curious boy but his curiosity was often more of a curse than a blessing. His house, in a building high above the Market of Mages was usually so easy to find, next to the monolithic Mage Guild. But today, since the skies had opened up he could no longer see the way home. Instead, all he could see was the mist and rain. Majestic buildings, like cliffs of diamond, were hidden behind a blanket of mystery.

He had been following his hero, Ravenblade. The mighty slayer of monsters had marched powerfully through the streets below Letian’s house, black sword strapped to his back. Letian had chased Ravenblade through the crowd like a fox after a rabbit but could not catch him. He chased too far, and when Letian next looked around could find no landmark he recognised. He was far away from his usual places of play. With nothing familiar and night approaching fast Letian felt a great fear, like he was hunted by the beasts Ravenblade fought.

He tried to think of what his hero would do. Ravenblade never felt fear in his heart. He would make a plan or do something amazing to solve his problem. He would face his fears, sword in hand with a smile. He would be the hero to the end with nothing to aid him but the blessing of the gods. But Letian was not a hero, he needed help. Nobody stopped for him though. Street urchins were common and were likely to pretend to be lost just to find a free meal or even a wallet to steal. Letian was not a street urchin, his father was a successful candlestick maker, but none would believe such a story.

What would his father think now? Countless bad thoughts, his father hated that Letian read all those hero’s stories. He said it was a waste of Letian’s time. That a boy his age should be learning his father’s trade, not dreaming of adventures abroad. Letian stumbled through the mist, helpless as a blind cow, tears combining with rain in his eyes. His father didn’t understand how important Ravenblade was to the city. He gave them all hope and he defended them selflessly. His father was no hero and could never be one.

Looking round the streets were deserted, except for men too fearsome for a small boy to approach, so he slumped onto the ground. The towering buildings glared at him like he was a murderer on trial. Where was Ravenblade? Why did he never stop to speak with his people? Why wasn’t he saving Letian now? As he thought those thoughts a strong hand rested on his shoulder. The boy turned to see a huge man with jet black hair. He had come to the rescue after all. His father, what a hero.

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