The Forgotten

The group found the tavern after a few hours of exploring while getting some strange looks from passers-by. A bloodstained old man, a knight in full armour and a boy who looked like he had spent the past week lying in an alleyway. The inn they found was down a street just off the housing district, surrounded by a large garden which seemingly grew a number of vegetables. The tips of carrots and potatoes could be found scattered around the dirt. Encouraged they continued their walk to the inn, hoping that the array of fresh produce would be used in the evening’s meal.

Rendall saw the stable on the opposite side of the street. The armour-clad man pulled out a pouch full of gold coins and handed the boy a gold coin and a handful of coppers.

“The gold coin will be more than sufficient to house the horse for a week should I wish. Make sure that he is well cared for. The coppers there are for tips, with anything spare you can keep.”

Nodding, Rendall walked over with the horse in hand to the stable master who was sitting on a hay bail outside his home, eating a leg of chicken, the smell making Rendall’s nose crinkle.

Standing in front of the man, Rendall says with a little quake in his voice, “Excuse me, I would like to stable this horse.”

The man looked back at the boy standing before him with a horse that was double his height.

“Get out of here, I’m not going to hide away your stolen horse. Begone now!”

Startled, the boy quickly responded, “No, you have it wrong. The man over towards the door, it’s his.”

Looking over where Rendall had pointed, the stable master saw a tall man wearing silver armour, carrying a large, broadsword on the cross of his back. The unknown knight looked back at the man giving him a nod in return.

“Ahem, of course. Jacob, come here and take this horse.”

Rendall places a gold coin besides the man. The stable master gasped and stared back at him in bewilderment for a moment.

“How long am I expected to keep this steed? That’ll be enough to cover until the end of the month.”

“Just tonight I believe, though he didn’t say much to me.”

Taken back for a moment the man replied, “Jacob, give him the cleanest stall, fresh hay then wash and brush the horse. I’ll get some fresh horseshoes and we’ll fix them on too.”

Assuming that was the standard practice of how a stable master treats his mount when overpaying, Rendall handed the boy five copper coins. Having no idea if that was a reasonable amount, he smiled back at the boy who lowered his head in response before running onto his duties.

As Rendall turned away, he noticed in the corner of his eye the stable boy smiling at the large horse as he stroked it. He couldn’t have been older than six winters, but clearly, it looked like he had worked every day since he could walk. Yet as Jacob took the mount Rendall was not sure who was leading who. Rendall smiled at himself before turning again towards the inn.

Walking to the inn, Rendall pulled the ring-like door handle and stepped inside. Busy with people he had to weave in and out of its residents that either had too much to drink or others that clearly hadn’t had enough. He found the old man and warrior sitting at a table in silence as they looked around the establishment. Joining the two, he passed the spare coppers back to the man.

The knight raised an eyebrow at him, “I said you can keep it.”

“I have no use for money, nor anywhere to keep it,” Rendall replied.

Shrugging, the knight put the coins back into his pouch and said, “A popular place it seems.”

“Who are you?” Rendall said, immediately changing the subject with a puzzled look on his face.

“My name is General Lynden Stormborn, well not General anymore. I’ve come here looking for an old friend. His name is Arthur Tolbert, I heard he ran into a spot of trouble and hoped I could sort things out.”

Rendall looked at the man in surprise, “A general?”

Lynden took a deep sigh and replied, “Used to be yes, until Myval came to power. He and I don’t see eye to eye and well, he didn’t like the fact that I was very suspicious of his rise to power and would often and still do look into it when I can.”

Rendall looked at the man, blank-faced, “Who is Myval?”

The old man and Lynden shared a look at one another. A look that said a thousand words. A look that said who is this boy.

“Who exactly are you, you’re not from around here are you?” Questioned Lynden.

Rendall stared at the man, not sure how to answer. He tried to think of a plausible excuse in his head, but there was nothing he could think of that this man would believe.

“Your eyes, they are unique. I haven’t seen silver eyes like that in years. Who are your parents?”

Rendall dipped his head at the loss of his parents and in almost a whisper said, “They both died several years ago now. We were attacked at our home in the woods by bandits, they were burnt alive. I only survived by jumping into a river and being left for dead.”

He pointed at the scar on the top of his forehead that marked the impact of the rocks in the rapids after he jumped off the cliffs.

Though clearly hiding something, Lynden placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder and sincerely said, “I’m sorry Rendall, I hope they find peace.”

Allowing Rendall a moment to gather himself, Lynden got up from his chair and went to the bar. Not having been gone for more than a minute, he returned with three ales and a number he placed on the table for the food.

“We’ll be eating well tonight.”

They looked to the other man who has now regained some composure after the attack from the guards earlier in the day.

The old man spoke up, “I remember you general. You may not remember me nor this face, but I served under you for many years. I was a cavalryman in the fourth division. You often called on us to look out and manage any flanks or unknown foes.”

“Forgive me I should have asked sooner, what is your name?” Lynden replied.

“Prayton my lord.”

“Oh please, I’m no lord.”

Smiling at one another Lynden continued, “I am sorry, though I remember your division, and a fine group they were, I cannot remember you. I always made an effort to try and to get to know all the men so this is a failing on me.”

“Ah, don’t worry general, we served together only maybe two campaigns early in your career before I retired. Since then I’ve just wandered around trying to find my place in the world.”

A large plate of potatoes, beef and vegetables for each of them. The table went into complete silence as each of them dived into their food, yet Lynden kept an eye on the boy next to him, trying to work out the secrets that he hid.

-

The wolf stood alone in the woods watching Rendall walk towards the human settlement. It had been the first time one of them had gone somewhere the other couldn’t. She understood why he wanted to go but at the same time felt a tinge of sadness and worry that for the first time, she wasn’t able to look out for him.

Celer watched him until he was no longer within view, and so dipping her head she turned back to the woods, her gaze fixed on the floor.

It turned out for the best as Celer needed to scout the woods. She needed to understand what had happened to the wolves and with the added motivation of not knowing what the magical being would do to her, should she not fulfil her end of the bargain.

The wolves of the woods were nocturnal creatures, it was only her, the outcast, who travelled in the day and slept at night. A blessing this might be in some ways, it also hindered her progress as she would need to locate their lairs.

Celer started to jog through the woods, her large muscled legs starting to open up into a wide gate as she began to pick up the pace. At a steady speed, she was able to cover two and a half meters in a single stride, her paws landing on the surface with elegant grace and she propelled herself forward each time. Celer’s love for agility and dexterity allowed her to weave in and out of the great trees, avoiding the burrows in the ground and anyone who would track her. Her head was fixed forward, her ears pointed listening for any noise that might be threatening or promising.

The white wolf ran towards the mountain range in the distance to the east, it would take time for her to get there. Many caves in those mountains could easily house a wolf pack and were her best chance of getting information. She had thought the cave that Rendall and her stayed in for some years was just one of those that had been abandoned long before they got there. She hid the bones that she had dug up while exploring the cave so that Rendall did not find them, and always believed if they came back, she would protect him with her life.

It was midday, yet the forest seemed cold, mud that came halfway up Celer’s legs halted her movement. Seemingly it came out of nowhere and was everywhere. With great effort pulled her legs free to make another step but fell deeper, subsequent steps got her stuck further, now over inches from her head. Not sure what to do, she stopped moving, knowing that at least she wouldn’t sink if she didn’t move.

Something moved in the distance. After moments there seemed to be eight figures, large creatures that had the lowered posture of a predator. They were slightly crouched and snarled.

Celer had found what she was looking for. While there were still too far away to make out any specific features, there was no doubt in her mind that they were wolves that seemingly had no problem with attacking her.

It was a matter of survival, she needed to get out of this pit. She started looking for something, anything to get her out. A few meters away the ground changed, it didn’t seem wet but solid. It wouldn’t sink below her feet, yet she had no way to get to it and any further movements would make her sink lower.

She would either die here or get out. Knowing that it would take two large leaps, Celer prepared herself and pushed out of the mud, stronger than she had done before, getting all of her paws above the ground for a short time before falling again. Knowing that she would sink through, this time she took a breath and dipped her head into the mud with her whole body following.

Celer felt rocks at the bottom of the pit, with her front legs out in front of her head. She crouched into the ground beneath and making her back legs meet the front, she jumped again. The mud made the force immense, it was like a wall pushing against her. She pushed through and within a second was piercing the surface again but this time landing on the solid surface around her. Going into a roll she quickly stood, mud covering her completely, the snow white fur was now black. It seemed oily in texture that glinted in the light. The wolf opened her eyes, the silver from her irises standing out more now that her body was completely devoid of any other colour. She bared her teeth at the wolves now running at her. Out of the sinking mud pit, she stood two and a half times bigger than them ready for a fight.

The wolves running towards her had a mixture of black and a deep blue fur, their eyes were a deep red. As they saw Celer now in front of them they slowed down, halting twenty paces away. The eight wolves fanned out in a wedge shape with what she only assumed to be the leader at the front. This alpha seemed to be having a fight with itself, its head violently moving from side to side, letting out growls and cries of pain.

Distracted, Celer took her advantage, she stalked closest in an intimidating position. Teeth still bared, Celer’s growls grew louder and deeper the closer she got. Wolves at the rear of the pack opposite her took a few hesitant steps back, Celer’s silver glowing eyes and posture made her look like she could kill them all.

The leader of the pack stopped its head movements for a moment, his eyes were no longer red but a blue that matched the colour of his fur. Looking at Celer and bowing his head, the leader turned and ran with his pack following.