Hello, everyone! I know it's been forever since I've been here, but I actually have something you fans of Eragon or Final Fantasy might like! Here's The Legend of Weinwyr: Fire and Ice!
The Legend of Weinwyr: Fire and Ice
The seaside village of Farthia was generally a sleepy town. Not many ships came into the ports since the war between Cleddtân and Duriâ began. Cleddtân and Duriâ were two large empires in the east and west, and in the middle of the two warring states was the small isthmus country of Goedwren. The small country was a key territory to either of the empires; Cleddtân's rocky, desert climate had little resources such as wood, and Duriâ really just needed the extra area. Unfortunately, this meant battles happened frequently in Goedwren, often involving smaller villages than Farthia. But, the fights had lessened to some degree, so the people of Goedwren could breathe easy.
Lying in the noonday sun, a boy of seventeen was resting quietly under a tree. He had metallic silver hair, cool grey eyes, and tan skin. He wore a light green vest, exposing his chest, and tan, slightly ballooned Capri pants. His name was Weinwyr.
"Mmm… the sun feels really nice…" he murmured to himself, stretching his arms and yawning. "Big brother Calren would be annoyed that I'm not doing my job. Splitting wood is so booooring~" Suddenly, a pair of hands clapped over Weinwyr's eyes. "Uwaaaah!"
"Hee~! I found you, lazy-bones!" a girl's voice said jokingly. Weinwyr grabbed the girl's hands and removed them from his eyes.
He looked up at the girl and said, "Medren! You scared me!" Medren laughed. She had light brown hair and equally light brown eyes. Eyes like the woods she grew up in… Weinwyr thought. Heh~ So pretty.
"What are you thinking about, Wei?" asked Medren.
"E-eh? Don't call me that! Yeesh… And besides, it's not like I'm thinking about something personal or anything."
"Awww… you can tell me, Wei!" Medren said, looking at Weinwyr cutely with her puppy dog eyes.
Weinwyr turned around so he was lying on his stomach, stared into the younger girl's eyes, and said, "Don't call me Wei, Medren!" He grabbed Medren's cheeks and pulled them.
"Ahhhh! Weinwyrrr! Stop iiiit!" Medren whined, shoving Weinwyr away. She put on her pouty face and said, "I'm gonna tell Calren on you!"
"A-ah! N-no! Don't do it! Calren'll kill me!"
Medren's expression changed from pouting to sly when she said, "Ohhh, yes! You were supposed to cut wood for Mom and Dad, weren't you?" She poked Weinwyr's face and he swatted her hand away.
"Bah. Splitting wood is so boring, though. Calren is more suited for that. My hands are too delicate," Weinwyr said, looking pitiful and rubbing his hands. Medren laughed. Man… in addition to having the most beautiful eyes in all of Goedwren, she's got the most beautiful laugh, too~! Damn. I wish Calren wasn't such a protective brother.
"Weinwyr, I think Calren is calling you," Medren said worriedly. The silver haired teen's ears pricked up and he heard the voice of Medren's brother yelling about something. "We'd better go see what he wants, eh, Wei?"
"I-I think you should go see for me! That sounds like a good plan to me!"
"Come on, Wei. Don't be such a wimp." Medren stood and grabbed Weinwyr's hand and pulled him up to lead him back to the village.
Weinwyr and Medren ran back to the house where they lived. It was a quaint, two floored house with a green roof. In the back, Medren's father, Creffen, built a workshop. Creffen was a traditional wood worker who made furniture, stairs, or whatever he was asked. At that moment, Weinwyr heard Creffen's knife scraping away at a log of some sort.
"Weinwyr! I found you, you lazy bag of mold!" shouted a voice behind the silver haired teen. Weinwyr flinched and felt sweat run down his face. He turned around to see an angry Calren. Calren was eighteen and already was working with his father. He had long, light brown hair like his sister, but he had his mother's green eyes. Calren wore a dark brown shirt with the Goedwren symbol embroidered on it; a leafless tree with long, spindly branches. His pants were torn and worn from his work. Normally, Calren had a cheerful expression on his face, but now it was annoyed.
"Eh heh heh~! Hi, Calren!" Weinwyr said nervously, putting his hands behind his head. "I guess you're back from the shop already, huh?"
"Cut it. You didn't chop the firewood like I asked you, Weinwyr," Calren retorted icily. He crossed his arms and sighed, "Why can't you do a simple task like that?"
Weinwyr rolled his eyes and said, "Ugh. Chopping wood is more your thing, isn't it? Why can't you ask me to do something more enjoyable?"
"Like what? Work in the kitchen?"
"Guh. You're hopeless, Wei."
One of Weinwyr's eyebrows twitched and he said coldly, "Don't call me that, Calren."
Calren raised his thick eyebrows and started to laugh. Weinwyr looked at him in confusion, but Calren said, "Alright, I forgive you this time, Wei. Next time, just do what I ask!"
"I told you, don't call me Wei!" Weinwyr shouted, chasing after a laughing Calren. The brown haired teen ran inside the house and up the stairs before Weinwyr could catch him, however.
Weinwyr huffed in annoyance and turned around to go back outside, but he walked face first into someone's chest. He looked up and said, "Ah! Sorry, Creffen!"
"What were you and Calren shouting about?" Creffen asked, looking up at the stairs. He was an extremely tall man with very muscle-y arms. He had to stoop his head slightly to get a good look at the stairs.
"Oh, he was just upset that I didn't chop the wood tonight," Weinwyr said. He felt a large hand ruffle his hair suddenly. "H-hey! Don't ruin the hair!"
Creffen chuckled and said, "Y'know, you should do what Calren tells you. We'll probably need all the firewood we can get before one of the armies come."
"You don't really think they'll come, do you?" the silver haired teen asked worriedly, not even bothering to try to get Creffen's enormous hand off of his head.
"I'm sure they won't. The Ywar won't let it."
"Tch. What are the Ywar gonna do about it? Those bastards just let the war happen."
"Weinwyr! None of that language in my house!" a voice called from another room. The voice belonged to Calren and Medren's mother (and Creffen's wife), Coedail. She never appreciated foul words in her home, not even from Creffen. Even though they were a few rooms away, Coedail seemed to have ears like a fox; she could here even a whisper of a swear word from Calren's room from the kitchen.
"Sorry!" Weinwyr yelled back. "Anyway… so…"
"I expect we'll hear more about it at tonight's meeting. Do you want to come, Weinwyr?" asked Creffen, seeming to already know what the teen wanted to ask.
Weinwyr looked up at the large man's face with practically sparkling eyes. "Can I really go?"
"You are seventeen."
"Yesss!" Weinwyr pumped his fist in the air and ran outside to tell Medren the news. "Hey, Medr… en? Where'd you go?"
"I expect she's fetching water. She'll be back," said Creffen, heading inside.
The silver haired teen looked around again and said to himself, "Okay. I suppose I should look nice for the meeting since Creffen messed my hair up."
Later on that evening, after one of Coedail's home cooked meals, Creffen, Calren, and Weinwyr went to the town hall of Farthia. This was where the head of the village (Creffen) met with many of the most important men in Farthia. A similar meeting was held in the capital of Goedwren, Coedr. But, that was much more serious and 'uptight,' as Calren said.
Weinwyr had seen the town hall many times from the outside, but he was never allowed in. Town hall was bigger than most buildings of Farthia, with its tall pillars and thatched roof. The crest of Goedwren was emblazoned on the doors and on a gold plate at the top of the door frame. Creffen pushed the doors open and Weinwyr had to gasp in amazement. The interior was decorated with paintings and wood carvings of ancient battles, historical moments in Goedwren's time, and heroes. The pillars on the inside had the crest of Goedwren painted on them, and an even larger crest was worked into stone on the ground. At the end of the hall were a wooden chair and a cluster of tables. From a distance, the chair might have looked plain and simple, but close up, you could see hundreds, if not thousands, of intricate carvings. The chair was rumored to have been made by the Ancient God Pren herself.
When everyone came in, two men shut the doors and Creffen put his hand up for silence. Almost immediately, the whole hall quieted. "Greetings, friends," Creffen began, raising both hands as a sign of welcome. "I cannot believe that it has been three months since we gathered last." The room murmured in agreement as Creffen continued, "For that three months, Cleddtân's and Duriâ's forces have not shown any sign of continuing this pointless war." The crowed started to grow louder. "However, the threat of battle has not left the air of Goedwren. We need to be prepared for—"
Creffen's speech was cut off when someone knocked on the doors rapidly. The two men who shut the door previously were given a nod from Creffen to open the doors once again. An unfamiliar cidyn ran through the doors. Cidyn were half human, half dog-like creatures with dog ears instead of human ones, dog paws as feet, tails, and extremely sensitive noses. Weinwyr had never seen a cidyn before, so he tried to see it. But, he was too short to see over the taller men. "Are you the one they call Creffen?" the cidyn asked breathlessly.
"I am. What is the matter, cidyn? We don't normally see your kind here," Creffen answered.
"I bring word from Coedr. The whole village of Goedwyd has been destroyed by Duriân soldiers!" the cidyn cried. The crowd in the hall burst into rage.
"Why would those bastards do this?"
"This is unbelievable!"
"Does this mean Farthia is next?"
Creffen raised his voice and yelled, "Silence!" The hall quieted. "Is this true, cidyn?" he asked coldly, with his teeth clenched.
"Do you really think I would lie about something this serious, human?" the half dog growled back, his tail twitching back and forth.
"What has Ydren decided to do about this?"
The cidyn's ears perked up and he answered, "Sir Ydren says that if we don't find some way to stop Cleddtân and Duriâ, they will surely destroy Goedwren."
"Answer his question, cidyn," Calren said after remaining silent for quite some time.
"Hmph. I was getting there, young human," the cidyn retorted, glaring at Calren. "Sir Ydren believes we should look to our allies in Lafnŵr and in Gwasmellt in order to form some sort of army against the empires." Murmurs echoed in the hall.
"What allies? I was under the impression that Goedwren was alone in this struggle, considering Lafnŵr and Gwasmellt have remained neutral during the past hundred years of war," Creffen said icily, staring daggers of flint at the cidyn.
"I am simply passing on the words of Sir Ydren, human," replied the cidyn. "He says in order to ally ourselves with Lafnŵr in the North and Gwasmellt in the South, someone must journey to these places. Not just anyone can go; it needs to be someone who has the guts to travel perhaps as far as the Ywar Empire."
The Ywar Empire? I have a thing or two to say to them! "I'll go," Weinwyr said, but he wasn't heard over the chatter of the other men. The silver haired teen pushed his way to the front of the crowd and said again, louder, "I'll go!" The men looked at him, giving him looks of shock and confusion.
Creffen said immediately, "No! Weinwyr, you can't go!"
"What do you mean why? You are too young. Too inexperienced! If anyone should go, it should be me," Creffen roared.
But then, Calren said, "I think Weinwyr should go." The crowd turned to look at Calren, giving him the same looks as they did Weinwyr.
"WHAT? Calren, what is this nonsense!" Creffen shouted, balling his fists and advancing towards his son.
"Father, you know as well as me and anyone in this room that Weinwyr does not belong here. Ever since he came to our village as a child, he never did quite fit in. His true place is out in the world, not staying here doing house chores," said Calren confidently, throwing a glance and Weinwyr and giving him a wink.
Weinwyr thanked him in his mind and continued, "There, you see? Even my brother agrees with me! I should go. I will go. I wanna go!" The men glanced around the room and at each other, muttering.
"Fine. You seem to have a thirst for adventure, young human," the cidyn murmured. "I will report back to Sir Ydren in Coedr and bring you his reply. I will return in five days to take you to Lynach, across the Goedwren-Duriân border. If you aren't ready by then, I will leave you behind." With that, the cidyn turned on his paws and ran out the doors, leaving the townspeople behind.