Chapter 2: Untitled

The next few days passed uneventfully as autumn slowly transformed into winter. Alia did not question the fur traders again, nor did she find reason to go into town until she was quite sure they had gone. However, she often pondered their words and speculated about what they meant. If what they said was true, there was no safe place for anyone in Western Erythr. Based only on what she had heard, it seemed to Alia that The Dragon was relentless and quite unwilling to stop terrorizing people. If it really was power and dominion he was after, he would have it before too long. The people of Erythr had not encountered a truly evil and destructive dragon for well over two and a half centuries; and certainly not one so power crazed as The Dragon was said too be. They were by no means prepared to meet him and his reputed army in battle. But this was not what troubled her the most. The worst part, the part that drew most of her anxiety, was that the people of Western Erythr were too divided to be able to stand together and resist The Dragon.

It will be this division, she said to herself, more than anything else that will prove to be our utter destruction in the end. It was a rather discouraging thought, but very true and something she had to confront. The rift between the people of Erythr was so vast that it would truly take a miracle to unite them under one banner against The Dragon. If none of them could get along peaceably with each other, why would they suddenly drop their arguments and strive for a common goal? Ever since the aftermath of the Great War, the Alliance of elves and dwarves were constantly making war against the Coalition Tribes, which consisted of goblins, ogres, and trolls. The Tribes retaliated with unmatched brutality and the battles continued almost unceasingly. One could hear news of skirmish between the two groups almost every day of the week. As for the humans, many would pick a fight with either group, or with each other, for no good reason. In short, no one was ready to come to terms of peace and agreement anytime soon. And The Dragon surely knows this, and he will use it against us.

In spite of this, there was a small gleam of hope. The trader Roric had spoken of a group of elves and dwarves who tracked The Dragon and sought to destroy him. Even though Bartlow had warned her that they were only a rumor, Alia believed in them. She had to hold on to some hope that The Dragon would be defeated and that life could return to normal for his victims – and everyone else, for that matter. There was a chance that everything would work out, be it even a small one. Alia chose to take this chance, and reflected on the positive aspects rather than the negative.

Autumn rolled on, and with it came the harvest and shorter, colder days. Alia finally found an excuse to return to Larime Kalvo for a short visit when she woke one morning to find her food shelf completely bare. She ruefully took a few coins from a jar on the table and set out for the town.

There was something different about the bleak town on this particular morning. An air of exhilaration hung over the people as they rushed about the streets, weaving, ducking, and bobbing in and out of stores and around each other with an almost dance-like animation. They were preparing for the long anticipated annual Lake Festival, which was to be held in only a few weeks time. It was an enjoyable tradition and one looked forward to by everyone. Boat races, games, contests, and a spectacular feast would mark the end of autumn and the harvest on this momentous day. As always, it was to be held on the small island two miles into the lake, and would cover two days time.

Their excitement was contagious, and Alia soon found herself smiling with the others and going about her business in a more jovial manner. She too looked forward to the festival and was especially eager to enter the archery contest. She had only recently become eligible to enter on her fifteenth birthday. Of course, there was also the splendid feast to look forward to and the colorful displays of art and music. It would be the one time of the year when everyone could throw all other cares aside and fully enjoy the day.

Once she had finished her errands, Alia returned home with a more cheerful heart than when she had left. Everything would be fine. Larime Kalvo would be safe from The Dragon. After all, what could he possible gain by destroying it? Of these things she was sure, and she quietly laughed at herself for being so worried about nothing.

Time seemed to count down sluggishly toward the day of the Lake Festival, but all things come when it is appointed them, and the day finally arrived. Alia made her way to the muddy shore of the lake in the early morning and boarded one of the long fishing boats that would be used as transportation for the duration of the festival. She was quickly joined by other townspeople, who were too eager and excited to even take notice of the half-blood sitting beside them. It was a wonderful relief to be so ignored.

As soon as the boat was full of passengers, the small crew of oarsmen began to row out across the two miles of open water that lay between the shore they were on and the island in the lake’s center. She watched impatiently as they drew nearer to the island, feeling that they were going far too slowly. They reached their destination at long last, and it became a wild scramble to be the first off the boat without being trampled. Alia was roughly bumped and jostled, but otherwise managed to escape the confines of the boat safely.

The festival grounds, as usual, had been transformed from a small and dusty waste to an impressive sweep of energy and life. Tents and booths added splotches of color to the otherwise dreary landscape. The sounds of exuberance and pleasure filled the air, and wonderful smells of all sorts were carried on the soft breeze that wafted across the grounds. Already, several people strolled through the long unused and dusty paths that outlined the area. The enticing smell of hot flat cakes with honey led Alia to a small green food booth that stood in front of a blazing fire. On a spit resting over the fire hung a large pan which contained two round flat cakes. Alia’s stomach grumbled loudly and she was soon persuaded to buy one.

She ate the flat cake slowly as she walked along the paths and looked at the various displays. It seemed that every craftsman in the town had come to show their goods. There were painters, weavers, sculptors, and carpenters of every sort. Alia looked at their work admiringly, but declined their offers to sell to her.

Upon seeing the arena and contest grounds, Alia was reminded that she had yet to sign up for the archery contest, which was to be held that evening after the traditional feast. She approached a small table sitting in front of the arena and paid her entrance fee to the woman who sat there. As she was leaving, a bell called from the docks, signaling that the boat races would begin shortly. Alia followed the throng of people headed to the shore and found a place between two tall men where she could get a clear view. A vague course had been marked with painted wood blocks floating on the surface of the water and tied together with a long white rope. Alia spotted Marvile among the contestants lined along the docks and waved to him amiably. The bell rang again and there was a roar of excitement from the crowd as the boats propelled forward amid a chaotic flurry of water. Marvile took the lead, but fell behind when he was forced to make a sharp turn where the course directed the contestants back to shore and the finish line. He rowed furiously, and his boat was briskly propelled forward. He finished sixth out of twenty-three. Alia congratulated him, then made her way back to the arena, where various contests and games were sure to begin shortly.

Throughout the day, Alia was entertained by the variety of entertainment of the festival. She watched the wrestling and sports competitions with fascination and laughed at the comical escapades of the jesters. Musicians played songs both cheerful and somber, and storytellers amused everyone with tales of magic and adventure.

Then it was time for the traditional feast. Alia made her way to a clear grassy area in the center of the island and helped to carry out tables and logs to sit on. The wonderful smell of food clouded the air as multiple dishes were brought out and set on the table. There were steaming vegetables and countless fruit pies. Breads and rolls filled several baskets that sat beside pots of soup and broth. The main course was a large ham and several wild turkeys, stuffed, seasoned and cooked to delicate perfection.

Alia’s mouth watered, as she filled her plate and sat down to eat. Marvile and some others came and sat beside her, and they were soon engaged in a lively conversation about events outside Larime Kalvo. Naturally, the talk soon turned to The Dragon.

“It’s amazing, really,” a young man named Tyrel said. “We thought we had wiped out all of the great fire dragons years before the Great War and now we discover that one somehow survived. Odd isn’t it, how wrong we can be?”

“Terrible is more like it,” someone else said.

“Well that of course,” Tyrel agreed. “I just meant that it’s got to be the costliest mistake of the ages.”

“Yes,” Marvile said. “Who knows what it will cost us in the end.”

“Who says it will end?” one woman asked.

“Well it will eventually, of course,” Tyrel said matter-of-factly. “Nothing lasts forever. Not even tyranny and tragedy.”

“Well it certainly won’t end anytime soon,” the woman replied. “This dragon’s a powerful one and as evilly twisted as they come. I heard today that he destroyed Manchesteve nigh over two months ago.”

Alia’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Manchesteve’s destruction. It was, or had been, the great capital city of the Alliance of elves and dwarves. Humans had once been a part of the Alliance also, before the Great War. Both the Alliance and it’s chief city symbolized peace and safety in a world of turmoil and confusion. If it had truly fallen to The Dragon, it seemed to Alia that peace and security had died with it.

“Well of course that would have been his primary target,” Tyrel said knowingly. “It’s Manchesteve that poses the greatest threat…or at least, it did. It was the residence of the strongest army in western Erythr, not to mention the strongest government. If The Dragon’s to guarantee his victory, he’s going to have to take out the other military and political capitals as well. Luckily, that puts us at a lesser risk. Larime Kalvo isn’t a particular threat to him, nor could he gain anything by destroying it.”

“What makes you so sure?” another man asked disdainfully.

“I’m not sure of anything,” Tyrell answered. “I’m just thinking of what would seem most logical from his perspective.”

“Well you know,” Marvile said, glancing at Alia, “they say there’s a group of elves and dwarves trying to stop him.” Alia nodded a silent confirmation.

“Oh you don’t really believe that do you Marvile?” someone else said.

“Indeed,” said Tyrel. “Who would be fool enough to attempt something like that?”

Alia swallowed the bite of turkey she was chewing and hastily jumped in. “So you’d resign yourself to this fate then? A life without freedom – is that what you choose?”

“It’s not my choice to make,” Tyrell replied. “It’s out of my hands.”

“But you’re part of this,” Alia said. “You’re part of this world and this life. Don’t you care what happens? Won’t you do something?”

“Look here, I’m just simple farmer. I’ve never dreamed of becoming great or travelling to far away places and doing great things. I’m just a simple man.”

Feel rather frustrated, Alia picked up her plate and stood to leave. As an excuse to Marvile, she offered, “The archery contest begins in a few hours. I’d better fetch my bow.”

But she did not go immediately to get her bow. Instead she went to the island shore opposite of where she had arrived, and starred out across the lake’s blue-green face. The sunlight cast a glassy light on its rippling surface, invoking such a sense of tranquility within her that she found it hard to believe that it could possibly end so soon. However, the possibility was there none the less – the possibility that life as she knew it could suddenly plunge to an irrevocable termination. As much as she wanted to maintain an optimistic view that peace would soon be restored and her comfortable safety would remain intact, it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so. She wanted so much to do something – to somehow end this misfortune that had been unleashed upon Erythr and it inhabitants – but felt powerless to do so.

Here sitting on the shore, she let her fears drift away and basked in the light of a blazing yellow sunset, with only the song of birds and the soft lapping waves of the lake to keep her company. This was true peace and contentment and she was sorry to leave it. But at last as several hours passed and the yellow sun sank further into the sky, she reluctantly left the calm of the shore to retrieve her bow on the opposite side of the lake.

By the way, here is an insertion I am making into Chapter One to describe Alia better. Tell me what you think in your answer to question #

Upon seeing Alia, most of them became suddenly nervous and hurried to get out of her way, or refused to look at her and kept their eyes downcast. Alia kept walking and pretended not to notice. But she knew that they looked away because of her obviously abnormal physical appearance. Her keen and icy blue eyes, pointed ears, height, and lithe flowing movements betrayed that she was part elf. On the other hand, the freckles sprinkled across her face and the occasional clumsy motion betrayed that she was human as well.