It Begins

The South Forest of Jenigral Kingdom was quite peaceful during the day, when the Shalari dragons were sleeping. The blood-red reptiles only woke with the setting of the sun to hunt the humans that encroached upon their forest, and slept from sunrise to sunset. Daylight meant safety and peace.

It was high noon and fourteen-year-old Lillian sat in the highest branches of an oak tree, looking over the tops of the other trees. To the west she could see Father's Shoulder, a tall mountain range that separated Jenigral from its coastal neighbor, the kingdom of Saldren. The river Thalen flowed from that peak into the South Forest, and on its southern bank was the tiny village of Jenst, the southernmost community in the kingdom.

Lillian pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear when they escaped from her practical braid that hung just above her waist. Her black boots were scuffed and dirty and the rough tunic she wore was sturdy and an un-dyed, dull grey. She sat on the thin branch easily, balancing with slight concentration, as she had been taught. There was no breeze today, which made it easier.

Lillian had been in this tree for most of the day, having disappeared from the village earlier that morning. She didn't feel like being hen-pecked by the older ladies who were busy dressing up for the harvest festival. Lillian had the dresses, she just lacked the inclination to wear them.

She tilted her head when she heard a sound filtering through the dense foliage. Voices. Girls from the village, most likely, she thought, but how many?
She closed her eyes and focused on the sound. She counted four different voices, and a few more pairs of footsteps than that. She smiled: she was getting pretty good at this.

"Lillian? Where are you?" That was Greta's voice, faint but recognizable. Lillian stayed silent, taking advantage of this opportunity to test her tracking skills. The soft crunch of footsteps on a forest trail stopped. The group had halted in a clearing several yards away. One of the girls said something, and Lillian could tell by the tone of the voice that it wasn't kind. Most likely Suzette, saying something nasty about her.

"Lillian?" Greta was getting annoyed. "Come on! The feast is going to start in two hours, and Harfan's been looking for you!"

Lillian grimaced: she hadn't intended to annoy Harfan. He was the Guardian of the village, their protection from the Shalari after the sun set. He had been trained at the Guardian's Keep in Jenigral City before being assigned to her village just after Lillian had been born. When her parents were killed by one of the dragons two years ago, Harfan—who was a dear friend of her father's—had taken her under his wing, becoming a sort of older brother to her in a relatively short time. He gave her lessons in tracking fighting, swordsmanship, and horsemanship. She lived with Harfan now, in a small cottage on the village outskirts, near the stables.

"Lillian!" Greta hollered, "Please come down from whatever tree you're in! I don't want to have to deal with Harfan!"

Lillian sighed and set off toward the clearing through the canopy of trees, moving silently. Every time she went to the forest, she put her lessons from Harfan into practice. Soon, she was only a few feet away from the group of girls, but she was still several feet above eye level.
There were six girls standing in the clearing, searching for her. Greta's sharp eyes found her first. "There you are," she said, hands on hips.

Lillian smirked and took a moment to compare herself to the teenaged girls on the ground. At fourteen years old, Lillian was almost the oldest. Greta held that title at the age of fifteen and a half years. Their clothing was drastically different; while Lillian was dressed in cheap, practical boots, trousers, and tunic, the others were dressed in skirts and blouses, had ribbons in their hair, and wore thinner shoes. Nearly every one of them was gazing at her with disdain. Greta was the only one that Lillian considered to be a friend. They had known each other for all their lives, and were nearly inseperable.

"Why is Harfan looking for me?" She tilted her head, voicing the question at her friend. She didn't want to go back to the village yet. As the daughter of a noble family, she commanded a little bit of respect, but it was rarely given. When her parents had died, she had abandoned the fine dresses and lace kerchiefs for her more functional attire, which the older ladies in Jenst regarded with hostility.

"I don't know…he said something about starting early today, whatever that means. He said he'd look for you." Greta shrugged. They started to trek back to the village as a group, with Lillian and Greta falling back so they could speak privately.

"Your mother hasn't found out that you're taking lessons from Harfan, too, has she?" Lillian asked.

Greta shook her head and gave a secret smile. "No," she giggled, "Can you imagine her face if she had? She has a hard enough time letting me spend any time here. I shouldn't be associating with a vagrant like you." The last was said with a valiant attempt at a straight, somber face. She couldn't hold it, and started to laugh.

"Well, if we ever get into real trouble, we'll know what to do. I doubt half the boys in the village really know how to fight." Lillian's light laughter startled a rabbit from the undergrowth beside the trail, and she watched as it fled deeper into the forest, making far more noise than a rabbit should. She snapped her head around and gazed into the trees. Was there something more than a rabbit out there?

When Greta noticed her hesitation, she stopped, too. Glancing quickly at Lillian, she whispered, "What is it?"

Lillian held up a hand for quiet. She was listening to the forest. Another pair of footsteps had been following them, she was sure of it now: she had just ignored it, thinking it was the girls ahead of them. She turned slowly, taking in the forest around her.

Nothing.

"It must have been a fox or something. There's nothing there," she said. She wasn't so sure it had been a person now. It probably was a fox.

She shook her head, gave an apologetic look to Greta, and the two of them began walking again. "So," she began, "Have your mother and father decided when you're moving to Jenigral City?"

Greta grimaced and toyed with a loose thread of embroidery on her sleeve as she answered, "I think they want to go just after the Harvest Festival."

"But—but—that's only a week left!"

"I know," Greta sighed, stopping again. "Papa's worried about his cousin Peter. His health is failing, and Mama and Papa want to be close so they can take care of him. Mama's already packing so we'll be ready to leave on the day after the festival. They bought a nice carriage from Theodore with the money we made this summer from selling our orchard. Harfan's going to ride with us until we reach River Haven. He'll be back the next night."

Lillian was silent, digesting the fact that her only friend was leaving in one week, and that they might never see each other again.

"I—" She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "I hope you'll be safe. How are you getting to Jenigral City from there?"

"I think there's going to be an escorted convoy there. We're supposed to catch it and travel with them."

The sound of a snapping twig jerked her attention back to the surrounding forest. "Did you hear that?" she asked her friend.

Greta nodded and tensely scanned the forest around them for any sign of movement. "That wasn't a fox."

Lillian stared through the branches, too, realizing that the sound she had heard was made by something much larger and heavier than a fox. She glanced at the position of the sun out of habit, but it was the middle of the day: no Shalari would be awake. The forest was eerily quiet, and it took her a moment to realize that the birds had stopped singing, as if they knew what was lurking in the trees.

Suddenly, a large grey blur fell from the branch above Lillian, causing Greta to give a little yelp of surprise before the screech of metal screeching against metal rang through the forest. The birds broke their silence and fled from the noise, squawking in protest. Lillian found herself with the blade of her dagger pressed against the edge of a long, bright silver sword, which was held by a tall, slightly unkempt-looking man in a grey tunic. His shaggy brown hair fell into his eyes, which crinkled at the corners in a way that indicated a humorous personality.

Lillian pushed forward with all her weight to dislodge their locked blades before sputtering in complete shock. "Harfan? What in the blazes—?"

Harfan, the village Guardian, sheathed his sword as he bowed slightly in greeting. "I told Greta that I wanted to start early today. We don't want to miss the opening feast of the festival."

Lillian scowled. "That doesn't explain why you're leaping at us from the trees like a large, armed squirrel." She crossed her arms. "You nearly frightened me to death!"

Greta narrowed her eyes shrewdly. "How long have you been following us?"

Harfan laughed. "Guess."

Lillian rolled her eyes. "You've been following me since I climbed that tree, haven't you?"

His answering grin was the only reply she needed. "Come on, ladies! Time for a little sparring. You have your equipment?"

Greta shook her head. "No, and I need to change my clothes if we're going to be sparring."

"Back to the village with you, then!" He said brightly. "I'll wait for you in that field by William's sheep pen."

The girls nodded and scampered into the village to collect their things.

Copyright 2007 H.J. Hanauer