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When opening a journal could save or destroy the world. |
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Shridrea looked out the window to the room she was in and sighed. She couldn't focus on politics or history. The weather was warming up and all she could think about was getting out in that bright sunlight and working in her garden. There was no way she was going to be able to focus on the nobility of years past. Glancing at the snoozing instructor, Shridrea stole a look at her best friend Declan strong, squared shoulders as he worked diligently and quietly packed her books. With a wink and a twinkle in her deep emerald eyes, she slunk out of the dingy room with the five other classmates silently watching her and holding their breath. Only once she had left the building did she dare breathe freely. Shridrea tied her shoulder length, bright rust coloured hair out of her face and her long, athletic legs carried her boldly away from the building like she would have done as if it was the rightful end of the school day. Once she was out of the apprentice's yard, she ran the two miles though the outer edge of the city and past the unkempt houses with a smile on her face till she got home. The tawny grass in front of her small, three room home told her the weather had been harsher than she thought. Water would be need to be pulled from the creek to keep the vegetables alive. Dropping her pack outside in the backyard, Shridrea breathed in deeply to absorb the spicy and earthy smells of her adoptive mother, Mama Myleana, hard at work in the kitchen. As she walked over to the small, dilapidated building her adoptive father built for her off the back of the house so she could keep her gardening tools safe from the rain, Shridrea thought about her lessons. History of the lands surrounding her kept her awake, but the history of the princes and kings put her to sleep. The records went back only 400 years, so Shridrea constantly wondered what was before that. Everyone talked about The Downfall of Ginarum, which is when the records started, but no one at the university would talk about what came before that. The old, blind bard Foucher told wild tales of heroes, unchecked magic, and inhuman things made and run on magic. Of course he talked about the war that brought about the Downfall, but none of this was something that was taught. While she hauled bucket after bucket of water from the creek and spread it out over the yard, she daydreamed of living in the world just after the Downfall, a world where nature ruled and people had to work harder to maintain balance with the world around them. Sighing wistfully for that world, Shridrea gathered another bucket of water and put it to the side. Shridrea put aside thoughts of the past and picked up her rickety spade and grabbed a length of leather to tie the head back onto the shaft. She examined the patch of garden thoughtfully. It was a spot with lots of light, slightly sandy soil. Grabbing and small ball of soil, she popped it into her mouth. It popped and fizzled slightly, but after a few moments it stopped and felt just like regular soil. So, Shridrea thought to herself, this patch was also slightly acidic. Tomatoes. That would be the perfect plant to grow there. Tomatoes would help her family feed themselves through the summer, and if she could grow enough of them, they might even sell in town. Grinning, Shridrea tied off the leather and whistled a tune her birth mother used to hum when they worked in the garden together. As the smell of the freshly turned soil filled Shridrea's nostrils, she lost herself in thoughts of how she could help her family better. Sure, they didn't worry about when they were going to eat next, but times were unpredictable. Last year's drought was fresh in Shridrea's mind. It left everyone groaning with hunger pangs and the less fortunate didn't even make it through. Growing a garden wasn't nearly enough. They needed meat. She resolved that tomorrow she would ask Papa Nolan, her adoptive father, to help her build a smoke house to preserve the meat she caught. Thunk. Shridrea stopped and stared wide-eyed at the dirt she was churning, then brought the spade down again. Thunk. She dropped down to her knees and began to dig excitedly with her hands. Finally, her fingers closed around the edges of something hard and cool to the touch. With a soft grunt, she pulled. The mysterious object didn't budge. Shridrea pulled her dagger from the belt at her waist and began working around the edges until she could get her fingers around the object further. With another grunt, she toppled backwards and pulled a large, book shaped box free of its grave. Still sitting, Shridrea carefully dusted the loose dirt off the top and sides. Before she was even done she could see that there were dirt-filled engravings that were of a wondrous design. Tomatoes and plans for a smoke house forgotten, Shridrea examined the box from every angle while gently pulling the dirt out of the cracks to discover a delicate silver filling. The glittering lines of the engraving swirled back upon one another, seemingly alive. Shridrea didn't have a clue what this could mean, but she did know it was valuable. Declan might know what it is. He studied harder than she did. Turning the box over and over, Shridrea found the metal filled lines wound themselves around the entire box. There were no obvious hinges, and the latch was small and delicate. The lock that held it fastened looked just as delicate. She thought she could break it open with a good hit with the spade. Thwack. Sparks flew and the air crackled. Shridrea's eyes grew wide and she put the spade down. Magic. What would a box guarded with magic be doing in her garden? No one important ever lived here that she knew of. This house belonged to her adoptive family for generations, and they were all farmers, minor merchants or minor scholars. None of them even knew how to use magic until she, a half elf, was adopted into this family when her own died of illness. While magic was in her blood, it was sluggish and not willing to come forth easily. She knew better than to work with anything more than small parlour tricks for her own good. Declan, however, was much better even when he was just learning a spell. It probably came from all that studying. Shridrea gave an amused grunt, unfolded her legs and took the box to the shed and hid it behind several tools and pots. No one really went in there besides her, but she didn't want to take a chance. Later, she would go find Declan and show him the mysterious box and tell him about the magic. Family doesn't need to know either since it would just make Mama Myleana nervous. Tossing an old, half rotted sack on the box, Shridrea went back her tasks in the garden. After the tomato seeds were planted, Shridrea went inside. Her nose was greeted with the smell of fresh sticky buns and spiced meat being cooked. Without turning her thin body around, Mama Myleana said, “Shri, could you be a dear and patch up your brother's shirt? He got into a fight again and ripped the sleeve on a chair of all things.” Shridrea looked around for the shirt. It smelt of alcohol, blood and sweat. Shridrea picked it up between two fingers and sneered, “What was the fight about this time?” Aidan's tall, muscular frame appeared in the doorway to the house, “Love and honour, of course.” He flashed a grin and Shridrea knew he was up to something. Nodding, Shridrea eyed Aidan. She'd find out later out of Mama Myleana's hearing what happened. Maybe she'd even get out of him more stories of the guard. Shridrea thought briefly about showing Aidan the box since he would have an idea of where it could be sold for good money. First she wanted to show Declan. He might know what those engravings meant. She wanted to know what was in the box more than what to do with it. Selling it to one of Aidan's contacts could come later. From outside there was a loud, husky voice. As it got closer, Aidan flashed his boyish grin again and turned. Their father, a less well muscled and older version of Aidan, was coming up the walk, talking to the family's slightly malnourished, chestnut coloured horse that pulled the cart of goods. “Tomorrow, Akira, we shall sell the rest of these pots, buns and spiced meat. Then, we'll make sure you get some good oats. Wouldn't that be nice?” Akira had managed to go through all his winter fodder too soon since Shridrea forgot to ration it out over the beginning few weeks of winter. Lesson learnt and very little harm done. That didn't mean that Shridrea felt any better about the mistake. Shirdrea smiled slightly. Papa Nolan was always optimistic. He always said if they worked hard enough, they'd not have to worry. Not that she'd seen anything to garner that idea from the way they always worked and nothing more than not starving ever came of it. Papa Nolan had two jobs. He was a scholar at the manor and sold the excess food Mama Myleana made every day. Even Aidan brought back a little money every month to help out. Shridrea was glad she could help out more and more with each passing year. Soon, the garden would be full of vegetables and cured meat before long. And never again would she overlook rationing the fodder for Akira. ¤¤¤¤¤¤ Shridrea quickly wrapped the mysterious box in an old, well oiled leather cloth while her family was preoccupied with getting things situated before supper and put the box into her well worn leather pack. This she stowed under her chair as she ate quickly. As she put her pack on she announced, “I'm going over to see Declan to study some history things we learnt this week. I'll be back in a couple hours. Anyone need anything while I'm out?” Everyone exchanged glances. Since when was Shridrea interest in history? No one needed anything, so Shridrea washed her wooden bowl quickly and left them to stare at her back in wonder. The short-cut Shridrea used was a well-worn path that led straight from the back of Akira's stable, through a small wooded area, and right to the back of Declan's family's property. The copse fell away and Shridrea faced an open pasture that was belonged to Declan's family. The cows grazed without acknowledging Shridrea when she skipped through, avoiding any piles the cows left in their wake. Closer to the actual house Shridrea had to skirt around the stables and garden. “Declan!!!” Shridrea yelled as she got to the house. There was a sound of scurrying, and a young man with dishevelled, short sandy-brown hair and slightly athletic build opened the door. Shridrea landed on the step next to him and looked down slightly so she could look into his soft hazel eyes. “I found something you will be interested in. Where can we go for some privacy?” Declan grunted, “The school master is not pleased with you, Shri. He woke up before class was over. I couldn't think quick enough of an excuse to give him.” Shridrea looked at him blankly for she hadn't thought of school since she found the box. “Oh. Don't worry about that. I'll deal with that old man when I have to. I have something that will cheer you up!” Shridrea practically dragged him off the porch and into the fields where they found some old stumps to sit on. Shridrea told Declan about how she found the box as she unwrapped the cloth from it. Even in the dying light the box seemed to glow with its own life. Declan's jaw dropped. After a short time he managed to close his mouth and hold his hand out. The box was exchanged in silence. Declan turned it over and over, cleaning off what little dirt remained on it. “I've never seen anything like this before. I've never even seen any characters, sigils or anything to compare this too. This looks like it came before The Downfall of Ginarum by the ornateness of the latch and lock, not to mention the designs of the engravings. You said it had magic?” “When I hit the latch with the spade, there were sparks and the air crackled like a fire. I'm sure it is magic.” “Hrm. We should find someone that can open it then. Or at least tell us what spell is on the latch.” “No! I, uh, don't want to tell anyone else what we found. Not yet, anyway. Those engravings look like they are filled with silver. It would fetch a good price at the market, and if it was stolen we couldn't find out what was in it. Besides, I'd rather sell it and help out our families after we find out what is in it.” After a thoughtful pause Shridrea added, “Do you think we could find anything in the library?” “Tomorrow is a school day, Shri. You have to stay in class. I'm not covering for you again,” Declan looked at her sideways and bit his lip. “How about tomorrow after classes before the evening meal. I bet I can come home a little later than usual. Mum probably won't mind if you stay for dinner. We'll say we need to study for a history challenge.” Shridrea pouted a few moments at the thought of getting a late start on their adventure because of school. “Deal. I'll tell my mum that I'll be at your place tomorrow. She'll be happy for one less mouth to feed.” |
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