Castle Shyr

The next section in chapter one. :) Here we meet our protagonist and his two friends. :) I adore writing for Johan... He\'s just a bundle of energy! Wee!!!!


-Morning Chores-

He reached out desperately for the glittering blue object, but it gave something like a haughty laugh and continued to flit about, just out of his reach. Rhinwyn couldn’t recall exactly why he was chasing the fae, but something in him wanted it, and so he kept on slowly, unsure of his footing.

“Hey, you!” The fae sighed, bouncing on springs invisible to the Nanion.

“Wha-?” Rhin muttered in an almost incoherent slur, knitting his eyebrows together as the world began to fade and swirl in a mass of stormy colors.

“Rhinwyn!” The fae spoke again, its voice not so happy and charming as before, now quick and sharp. Rhin reached up to rub his eyes, perhaps if he could see it, he could figure out what it wanted.

“Get up already, ya lazy bum!”


“Wha-oof!” Rhin coughed as he was suddenly jolted from his bed, thanks to his roughly pulled blankets. He landed amidst the crumpled sheets and made a dull thump against the ground, further jarring him awake. He blinked, looking up at Tillyia with a vaguely blank, startled expression.

“Ya slept in,” The Nanion-woman explained, frail hands resting on bony hips. “Now get up and get movin’.” She ordered, though her elderly face gave way to a slightly kind and knowing smile. “And put some clothes on, dawn-bird, t’ain’t summer just yet.” The boy Nanion gave her a little blush as she turned, chuckling to herself.

Rhin sat up a bit as Tillyia turned back down the hall, wiping her hands on her sullied apron. The boy gave a stiff yawn, broken a bit by a smile (dawn-bird indeed), and leaned forward to rest his chin on the bed, folding his hands atop the gathered sheets in his lap. His dream was quickly fading, dripping from memory like sand through fingers, and though he was willing to entertain the possibility of it having been a good one, he had the paranoid, leftover fright feel of a nightmare. Deciding that it simply wasn’t worth it to fret, he closed his eyes sleepily and began fishing around in the cloth for his pants, adding a second yawn to the morning’s repriotare. He forced his eyes open again as he found the elusive pants and stood with a stretch, facing the curtained window, letting the sheets ball at his feet.

Kyin let out a giggle from the doorway, but broke into laughter as Rhin let out a gasp, his whole body turning a light pink color, and turned to face her, trying to conceal himself with only the thin pants in his hands.

“Good mornin’,” She chuckled cheerfully, tucking a curly blond lock behind a tall, pointed ear.

“Uh, right,” Rhin mumbled making for quite a comic sight as he tried to grab the sheets from the floor without bending over too far. “Don’t you, um, knock?”

“Yeah, normally.. But your door was open, and I didn’t think you’d be, well-“ She paused to giggle again, blushing herself as Rhin finally managed to pick up the sheets, “naked.” She raised her eyebrows in amusement as he wrapped them over his waist, then hobbled towards the door, careful not to step on any slack.

“It was hot,” Rhin stated simply, looking down at the girl, as he was a good head taller, and reaching for the doorknob. “I’ll be down for breakfast when I’m dressed.”

“We’ve already had breakfast, sleepyhead.” Kyin chuckled, giving him a wave before scampering down the hallway in her dusty brown sundress.

Rhin sighed and closed the door, turning his back to it and dropping the sheets for another stretch. He thought again about the odd feeling he’d woken up with, now a bit unnerved at his late rising. In the whole twenty years he’d lived with Kyin’s family, he’d never once woken too late for breakfast, and it bothered him that he’d done so when he hadn’t even been out late the previous night. Pulling on his pants and a baggy white shirt, managing to straighten his head of long fire-red hair, he turned, opened the door, and began downstairs. He wasn’t surprised to see Alric, Kyin’s father, in the den, sharpening his sword. Alric had fought in some war years ago, and though he returned safe and healthy, the daily routine had been burned into his mind. Upon further inspection, Rhin discovered Tillyia in the kitchen, her culinary skills sending warm, delicious wafts of honeycake through the house. Feeling a bit sheepish at missing breakfast, he walked in quietly, hoping to sneak past her without being noticed.

Tillyia raised a barely visible eyebrow as the sneaking adolescent attempted to slip past her, but he found the loudest floorboard in the kitchen. She turned, bowl of cake mix on her hip, and cleared her throat, reaching up to rub the back of her free hand across her forehead, dripping cake batter to the floor in the process. She tried to hold a stern expression as she met Rhin’s dazzling red/gold eyes (a color to match his hair), but she was a kind woman at heart, and a smile soon graced her work-weary face.

“Come here and take a few crackers, dawn-bird,” She chuckled, watching a smile form on Rhin’s own lips. “Just mind Alric doesn’t see you.”

Rhin nodded as he took a few crackers and headed outside with a smile. There was no doubt in his mind that Tillyia was the nicest woman in the world, always working but never complaining, always patient, and always breaking into a smile when she was trying to look serious. She had no reason to accept a newborn babe from a dark-cloaked stranger twenty years ago, but she did. She named the child, fed him, clothed him, taught him, and loved him, all before the birth of her own child. Rhin looked up longingly at the sky as he stepped outside, squinted a bit at the bright, welcoming sun, and let out a sigh of contentment.

“Phweeeeeet!” Johan doubled over in laughter, taking the flute from his lips as Rhin jumped nearly a foot into the air, landed, stumbled, and fell to his backside in the dirt. The flute player calmed himself and reached out to help Rhin up, twirling the brass instrument in his free hand. He flashed a charming smile and gave Rhin’s arm a pat once the other Nanion was standing.

“Kyin told me you slept in, I figured you could use a bit of help waking up the rest of the way. I didn’t expect you to try and take flight though!” Deep blue eyes sparkled mischievously from under Johan’s light green hair as he studied Rhin’s less-than-impressed expression.

“Everything ok, Rhinwyn?” He asked in an odd voice, the creases of a frown appearing strange on his happy face. Rhin wasn’t normally this quiet around Johan, not even in the morning.

“Oh, yes,” Rhin began, heaving an exaggerated sigh and dropping his shoulders dramatically. “Just thinking about how quiet my walk to the well is going to be.”

“Oooh no!” Johan said quickly, raising his hands in defense against Rhin’s pleading, pouting eyes (balancing his flute expertly between two fingers). “I am not falling for that again. It‘s your own fault you woke up so late, Rhinwyn, I‘ve already done my chores, and I‘m not about to scamper around behind you while you try and catch up on yours.” He crossed his arms over his chest, propping up his foot on a stump as Rhin turned and picked up the water pole. He shook his head firmly and tilted it back to look down his nose at the redhead while Rhin squared the pole over his shoulders, draping his arms over it.

“What do you have to do that’s so important anyway, Johan?” Rhin chuckled as he walked past his friend to the dusty dirt road, giving the pole a light sway, tapping the right bucket into Johan’s shoulder.

“I’ll have you know I have a full day ahead of me.” Johan retorted, trying to sound indignant as he turned to watch Rhin start down the path to the forest.

“That so? Is Zeva feeling better then?”

“Hey! It’s not my fault she caught my cold.”

“Come on, Johan!” Kyin shouted merrily as she ran out from behind the house, taking up pace next to Rhin. “Don’t be such a squishberry! I did my chores extra fast this morning so I could go!” She said, adding a delighted spin which flared out her dress.

“So go!” Johan chuckled with a shrug and a ‘move-along’ push to the air. “Nobody’s stopping you - if you want to spend your afternoon trailing the dawn-bird, be my guest.”

“But the princess and her knight need music while they travel!” Kyin whimpered, clasping her hands together and looking over her shoulder at Johan.

“Yeah,” Rhin said, knowing from the start that he’d somehow talk Johan into coming, “we can’t travel in silence.” He gave Kyin a bit of a wink.

“Why am I always the bard?” Johan sighed, even though he smiled and caught up with the two. “Can’t I be someone more.. Important?”

“You could be the jester.” Rhin suggested, sidestepping off the path to dodge a smack.

“Or, oh! Or you could be the musical dragon!”

“The what, Kyin?” Rhin asked as he looked over to Kyin, clapping her hands together with a wistful smile.

“Who’s the only one of his kind with a heart, so he’s a lonely outcast whose only friend is music!”

“You should learn to write, Kyin. You know how many stories that imagination could spurn you?”

“Oh, you really think so Rhin?”

“Know so.”

“All dragons have hearts, blossom.” Johan added, slowly bringing his instrument to his thin lips. “What shall I play?”

“Something happy!”

Rhin found himself slipping into a slight daydream as Johan began picking into a quick, happy tune. The day seemed too perfect, the sky was too blue, the weather too nice, the grass too green, Rhin began to suspect something was wrong, things shouldn’t have been so perfect, but then again he had always been a worrier. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Johan, skipping merrily down the path, holding the flute so lightly Rhin didn’t know how he kept it in the air. The Nanion felt a slight tug at his waist and looked down at Kyin, who was trying to move under his arm, but needed Rhin to shift so she could do so. He smiled kindly and lifted the pole a bit, nearly whacking himself in the head with the raised left bucket, but figured it was worth it as Kyin wrapped an arm over his waist and gave a dreamy dove-sigh. He caught Johan’s eyes, and stuck his tongue out at the flute-player when the other raised his eyebrows in question.

The walk to the well wasn’t far, but the old wooden bridge that spanned across the quick flowing River Jir made watching your feet a necessity. Kyin had heard talk that the bridge was built by the first dwellers in Crawyn Valley, as a means of escape should they be attacked, and it seemed like a good idea to her: The bridge let out to a small clearing (which now held the well), bordered by a thin row of trees which led right to a pass through Votoc Mountains. Kyin’s only problem with the tale was how unsteady the bridge was, hung like a hammock between the two shores, missing the side rope-guards, and housing some particularly treacherous boards. However it was a very old bridge and Kyin hoped it had been stronger and safer when it had been built.

“Be careful, Rhin.” Kyin said worriedly, peeling away from Rhin to walk behind him and turning to look over her shoulder at Johan as he stopped playing and moved in behind her, forming a single file line. The bridge was easily wide enough for the three of them to walk side-by-side, but with the two buckets swinging from Rhin’s shoulders, and the drop far enough for serious injury, they didn’t chance it.

“Kyin.. Kyin! Hole.” Johan yelped in slight agitation, reaching out and gently steering her to the side by her shoulder. “Stop starin’ at Rhin,” he whispered, leaning down towards her ear and smiling as she blushed bright red, “and watch where you’re puttin’ your feet!” He straightened back up, watching her blush slowly fade and twirling his flute for a second before he caught himself, and gripped the instrument securely in one hand. One of the only things he prided himself on was his skill with the flute, but no one was perfect, and should he drop it and it fall over the side, or between two boards, it would no longer be his flute, but the River’s. No matter how much of a risk taker Johan claimed to be, he would not ever risk his flute.

Rhin let out a slightly relieved breath as he stepped off the bridge, well now in plain sight. He knew the bridge fairly well (probably better than the rest of the village), but walking with the pole balanced on his shoulders made it nearly impossible for him to look down at where he was stepping without stumbling, so the trek across the bridge, no matter how short or familiar, always gave his heart a good jolt. Happy to have his feet again on solid ground he gave a little hop, and skipped towards the well, letting the pole slide to the ground, barely making a sound as it hit the soft grass. He stretched lightly, and frowned a bit at the stiffness in his shoulders, realizing that his body was quite angry with him: sleeping in late, waking up in a less than desirable fashion, not having a proper breakfast, falling, then lifting and walking; He would be quite sore tomorrow. He began to rub his shoulders gently, turning his head to watch as Kyin skipped towards a small patch of flowers.

“Looks like you’re not the only one who doesn’t want to work.” Rhin turned to look at Johan, a bit confused, as the flute player put the instrument back to his lips and pointed to a tree with the tip of it, already playing and not daring to busy his fingers with pointing. Rhin lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sun, scanning the leaves and branches of the tree for whatever it was Johan had pointed at. He saw a quick rustle of leaves and took a small step forward, squinting to get a better view. In one of the hollow knots of a branch sat a small figure, genderless, sporting huge wings (huge compared to the rest of its body), and a surreal blue glow: a fairy. It had its chin in its hands and the most annoyed expression Rhin had ever seen on its tiny face. Upon further inspection Rhin discovered the reason for the face, for on a higher branch stood a second fairy, a light purple in color, hands on its hips and shouting in a squeaky voice, which sounded a good deal like a bell or a wind chime.

“I wonder what she’s saying?” Kyin mused softly, continuing her search for flowers near the base of the tree: she was intending to make a wreath later, for the door to the kitchen.

“How do you know it’s a she, Kyin?” Rhin answered lightly, turning with a slight sigh back to the well to finish his chore. He moved as if to step on Johan, (lazily laying on his back in the grass, flute to his lips) but feigned at the last second, and chuckled at the trill he received.

“The way she’s standing and the way she sounds.” Kyin replied in the whimsical story-telling voice she knew Rhin enjoyed. “She’s light on her feet and she sounds like a bell.”

“Oh,” Rhin said lightly, wondering if she knew that for sure or if she’d just thought it up, not that it really mattered to him anyway, he enjoyed Kyin’s on the spot stories just as much as Tillyia’s old tales and legends. He hoisted the well’s tethered bucket over the opening and then, with a smirk, released it, listening as a loud splash echoed through the stonewalls. He moved to bring the bucket back up but froze, startled, as he heard something of a squeak bounce up from the bottom. His first thought was of rats, but he knew how hard an infestation would hit the slightly poverty-stricken village and pushed it from his thoughts, turning to look at Johan.

“It squeaked.” He explained, seeing Johan had noticed his pause. The flute player merely raised his eyebrows, still confused.

“The well squeaked?” Johan chuckled, lowering his flute and pushing curly grass-colored hair from his eyes.

“No, I mean.. Something in the well must have squeaked.” Johan pushed himself to his feet with a grunt and an exasperated sigh then walked up to the well to stand next to Rhin. Both Nanion were trying not to let their slight anxiety show, so they leaned bravely over the side of the well, gripping the edges with whitening knuckles. There was a moment of tense silence, (during which Kyin turned to curiously watch the boys, eyebrows raised in question) before something at the bottom of the well caught their eyes, and made them lean further over. They couldn’t make it out, and in truth couldn’t figure out how exactly they could see it; there was no light, and the only thing they really could see was the outline of something jumping about sporadically, almost as if it was trying to fly.

“What’re you two looking at?” Kyin said cheerfully, then pulled an apologetic face as they both gave a start and looked at her reprimandingly. That was the second time that day she’d snuck up on someone without meaning to, if only she could do that when she wanted to, instead of by accident.

“There’s something moving at the bottom of the well, and we’re trying to see what it is.” Rhin explained lightly, turning to look back at the well as Kyin moved to stand at his left, peering in herself. He chanced a look at Johan, whose face was a combination of dying shock from Kyin’s surprise visit, and light confusion.

“Why don’t you just bring up the bucket?” Kyin supplied absently, rising to her toes to get a better view of the frantic thing, her curiosity piqued. She was too busy squinting at the object to notice the ‘why-didn’t-we-think-of-that’ looks exchanged between Johan and Rhin. At first she thought the object could have been a fairy, but if it was, it was a very, very, VERY sick fairy to not only be stuck in a well, but to have such a non-existent glow.

“It could be frightened and hostile, whatever it is,” Johan said after a moment as the trio took a step back and studied each other, “which is why Kyin and I will stand behind you, Rhin, while you bring up the bucket.”

“Gee, thanks,” Rhin mumbled, rolling his eyes as Johan gave Kyin a wink, and they both began to chuckle. “Just be prepared to hit it with something if it comes after me.” He sighed, beginning to roll up his sleeves, though it was mostly for show because the soft sleeves would soon slip down his arms.

“Don’t count on it, Prince Rhinwyn,” Johan laughed lightly, “we bards abhor the use of violence.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be a bard?”

“And I have bad aim.” Supplied Kyin with a small shrug, smiling as Rhin looked at her incredulously.

“Ok, ok, stop making excuses and get behind me then.” Rhin relented, smacking Johan on the shoulder as the musician steered Kyin behind the redhead gently. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” Rhin muttered, more to boost his own confidence than anything, and began rubbing his hands together, watching the taunt rope as it jerked slightly. He reached out for the rope, trying to ignore the two behind him, mimicking his movements but keeping well out of harm’s way, but paused as the squeak came again, and the rope jerked roughly to the side. He gave it another few seconds, ignoring Kyin’s small noise of protest, then reached out and grasped the rope, which seemed much rougher today than it had yesterday, but he tried not to pay attention to it, he was just imagining things. He began to tug back, hauling up the bucket slowly, and realized, with a mixture of satisfaction and fear, that whatever it was they had seen and heard was definitely in the bucket, for it swayed and rocked on the end of the rope. He could feel Kyin and Johan’s nervousness from behind him, and it wasn’t helping. His movements were jerky and stiff, which he was sure wasn’t going to help any, as it would probably only anger the creature more, but there was nothing he could do about it, and he tried to listen to the part of his mind which was saying that whatever it was had to be quite small to fall into a well. With one final tug the tip of the bucket appeared over the side of the well, and with only a short gasp from Kyin, the Nanion held their breath.

“Chee!”

“Ahh!”

“Uh!”

“Ow!” With one shriek the wet squirrel in the bucket managed to send all three Nanion to their rumps in the grass, and the bucket back to the bottom of the well as the rope was released. It blinked at them from where it stood on the rim of the stone wall, sopping wet with its huge bottlebrush tail drooping behind it, until the splash from the bucket startled it, and sent it dashing across the field and up into a tree.

“Geeet off!” Johan grumbled, pushing Rhin’s back, for the other Nanion had fallen in Johan’s lap and forced the musician to land uncomfortably on his flute. He stood quickly as Rhin walked over to help up Kyin, and removed the instrument from his pocket worriedly for inspection, nearly holding his breath. After a minute of running his hands over the smooth brass he let out a relieved sigh, finding no dents and only a few scratches, then looked up to Kyin, who was brushing off, and Rhin, who had again approached the well.

“That damned squirrel almost cost me my flute.”

“Johan!” Kyin yelped, covering her mouth with her delicate hands, as her eyes grew wide.

“Sorry Kyin, but I take attacks to my flute offensively.”

Rhinwyn shook his head with a small smile as he hoisted the full bucket back up once more, and filled one of the ones he’d carried up.

“Do you think the poor thing’s ok?”

“I’m sure he’s –uh- fine, Kyin.. Just scared.”

“And wet, so he’ll be easy to follow…” Johan growled slightly, cradling his flute like an infant.

“Yes, and wet.”

“And tired, so he’ll be easy to catch and-“

“Johan, you are not going after the squirrel.” Rhin said as he dropped the bucket for the final time and turned to look at his companions, rubbing his slightly sore hands on his pants for a moment. He bent over and wrapped his hands firmly over the pole, lifting it and laying it behind his neck, then tensed up and prepared to stand with the added weight.

“Look! The boy fairy came down from the tree! He must have heard all the commotion.” Kyin whispered excitedly, pointing at the field where she’d left a few scattered flowers, one of which now held the previously sulking fairy on splayed petals. Indeed he seemed quite intrigued by the Nanion, he was watching them very intently, one hand to his mouth, the other at his side while his wings beat lightly at the air. Kyin looked over at Johan and flashed him a smile, clasping her hands together in front of her and swaying a little, batting her eyelashes.

“Johan, would you please play a song for him?”

“Yeah, maybe if you play-“ Rhin paused as he stood with a grunt, teetering for a moment before he found his balance again, the weight of both buckets now resting on his shoulders, “that squirrel will come back.” He turned and started towards the bridge with a grin at the sarcastic ‘Ha ha’ he’d received, walking slow and being extremely careful as to where he placed his feet.

Johan looked over at Kyin and sighed as if she’d just asked him to carry her across the bridge, though a grin split his face; he loved to play, and any excuse to do so was readily accepted. He lifted the cool brass to his lips, positioned his fingers, took a deep breath, and then let it out: only to have it come back immediately, puffing out his cheeks and popping his ears. He quickly lowered the instrument and twirled a finger in his ear agitatedly, ignoring the laughter from the bridge with a scowl.

“What’s wrong?” Kyin asked lightly, walking over and giving Johan a strange look, touching the flute curiously.

“I think there’s some dirt clogged up in the end,” Johan muttered, lifting the flute up to the sky and closing one eye to look into the small opening. He gave up after a moment and shrugged lightly, looking first at Kyin, then the fairy.

“Sorry you two, but I can’t play this thing until I get it cleaned, and I can’t do that here.”

Rhin smiled as he neared the center of the bridge and looked over his shoulder at his two companions.

The day, he thought again bitterly, was too perfect.