Varheiman Myths: The Dragon And Her Fire

The Hunt In The Dark.

Rhineas had found a friend, a teacher in Alistair, and Alistair thought of him like a son he never had. Alistair had never been married since he was in love with Pysenia, who had never been his.

They rode down the Hetra, which stood tall as always wearing a gilded crown of the shimmering sunshine, still and quiet but when you get deeper in its foothills you hear murmuring secrets of the Stegardian forest. The vitality of the day and mysteries of the dark, the lingering fragrance of its rejuvenating breeze, everything it bears in it keeps him erect in pride.

The village was just as lively as the forest itself but the peace and silence were nowhere to be felt. A chorus of hoofing and pounding, men yelling, women muttering amongst themselves and children giggling, and laughing, frolicking around the streets. Village was colourful with varieties of cattle pulling the carriages, and poultries toddling around. The smell was humid conveying in the stiff salty air from the sea. Rhineas felt like a while he was away from it, and suddenly he is not liking it here, it occurred to him that he celebrated the forest better, this place reminds him of reality whilst the forest shows him adventures.

‘So, here we are boy.’ Alistair steadied the gait of his horse. ‘Where is your friend's forgery?’

‘Just up ahead to the left from the narrow street.’ Rhineas stretched his neck to get a better view. ‘I think we have to tether our horses somewhere, it’s too congested and the market is thronged by villagers.’

‘Of course.’ Alistair's face was sullen.

‘I’d prefer the former Alistair please.’

‘Well, he is left in the forest.’

Rhineas scoffed softly, with a slight exasperation. He could not expect much from this man.

They walked tearing their way through the swarming crowd, people shoving and cursing them. The abundance of bellowing sound of men over the shrilling of women had deafened them.

‘Why do you call it a village, if its so big.’ Alistair wondered.

‘Its not big just densely populated.’ Rhineas shrugged. ‘Here we are.’

Rhineas ducked under the low roof of the spacious forge sonorous with the clanking of steels and belching of the fierce fire in the forge, melting the metals like candle wax. The pounding of hammer emitting a mumbled clink on the flat blade of a just forged steel.

‘This is splendid.’ Alistair cried over the steel noise.

‘There he is.’ Rhineas pointed at Reyto behind a wooden platform.

Rhineas bustled over to him, calling him would be a vain of efforts over this huge noise.

Reyto was immersed in sweat his bare body gleamed against the fire, sweat dripping down in beads from his long, black hair breaded behind his neck. He was stunned to see Rhineas, he looked finer than he'd ever looked, reflecting superiority of a soldier with a sword slung behind his back on a pure leather baldric across his one shoulder  in an exquisite sheath, Reyto noticed the fine work on the hilt of the sword engraved a Dragon spitting fire the Royal banner stamp on it.

Rhineas detected the distinguish face of his old friend, ‘Yes, life had taken a new turn old friend.’ He smiled.

‘Now, do I have to address you as ‘Sir’.’ Reyto's every word warmed Rhineas’s heart from his friend's felicity.

’No, absolutely not. Although...’ Rhineas paused and outstretched his hand in Alistair’s direction, ‘... You would spare that respect for a high ranked guest who'd come to see you.’

Reyto followed his gaze to the direction where Rhineas was pointing. He saw a tall man with austerity shining on his face like the armour against the blazing fire in the forge.

‘Come along now, you should not keep him for long.’ Rhineas was already headed towards him.

Reyto has discovered a great change in Rhineas, his gauche walk has now evolved into a sophisticated stride, he walked with masculine elegance, not hunching, very straight.

‘This is sir Alistair of Bustia, the commander of Queen’s regiment.’ Rhineas announced

Reyto was nervous, he slightly bowed to Alistair.

‘What is your name lad?’ Alistair asked softly he didn’t want to scare the boy, but his voice still coarse and fierce.

‘R – Reyto, sir.’ He stammered.

‘Aye, boy. I’ve heard a great admiration for your work, from my prentice and your old friend.’

‘I’ll not disappoint if that is so, sir. How can I help you?’ Reyto asked timidly.

‘I would like to see finest of your crafted armours, boy.’ Alistair ordered.

He really didn’t forget how to be a Knight. It would never leave him.

‘At once sir.’ Reyto bowed. When he was about to leave Alistair stopped him.

‘Of his size.’ He said pointing at Rhineas.

Reyto's face lighted up. ‘I just know the ideal one for you.’ He chimed.

Rhineas and Alistair meanwhile exchanged wry glances.

Reyto was back with marvellous silver and golden armour. It’s breastplate was bright crispy silver, and rearebrace, pauldron were gilded. With a black tesset and again the silver gauntlet, it was an stupendous merge of silver and gold. Rhineas's eyes widened under their risen eyebrows in wonder.

‘How did you know so well about what suits me.’ Rhineas expressed his astonishment.

‘I am an blacksmith my friend I can look at people and tell which steel is the right one for them.’  Reyto said proudly.

‘I am certain you do. I remember the sword that you showed me the last time.

‘What sword?’ Alistair inquired.

‘I still have it you would love  to see it...Sir?’ Reyto enthused.

‘Absolutely boy, but first let him get into this steel.’ Alistair roared.

Reyto helped Rhineas with assembling the scattered armour above him.

Rhineas looked handsome in the armour like he was born to wear it, he could imagine himself riding to battles in this very armour. He remembered how he'd felt when he had first wielded a sword. Fearless and robust. He felt the vigorous beating of his heart, and the violent gushing of blood in his veins like the waves of angry sea. The crinkling passion in his eyes had become a fervent flame now, a flame that would never to extinguish. He looked at this very place where he'd first came and returned home empty handed just a couple of months now, he'd left with dismay flushing through him making him, feel unworthy of this power, but now the time has taken a new turn just as he told Reyto some moments earlier. He closed his eyes portraying himself in the armour as there was not a mirror around in this place to stare at his reflections with admiring gaze.

Alistair had bought the same sword which Rhineas had willed to, when he first came here.

‘I hope to see you again old friend.’ Rhineas greeted Reyto a farewell.

‘You do a splendid work with the steel, lad.’ Alistair patted slightly on Reyto’s shoulder.

‘It’s a great honour sir.’ Reyto was embarrassed.

They bustled out of the forge, Rhineas stopped to see his vague reflection in one of the shiny steel breastplate hung on the wall. He smiled and with belief and new spirit walked back to the horse, tailing Alistair.

Rhineas was heartened when Alistair paid two silver for the armour and the sword, he'd also picked a leather gambeson from a merchant who claimed that it would not even be penetrated by an arrow.

‘Alistair..’ Rhineas spoke.

‘Aye.’

‘Thank you, for buying the sword.’ Rhineas was deeply grateful.

‘You don’t owe me gratitude, boy.’ Alistair mounted his horse. ‘I want that sword, mine is old and blunt. So I got this for you.’

‘Well then thank you for the armour.’ He muttered.

‘The silver also belongs to you. You fought for it.’

‘Well, then the gambeson.’ Rhineas squinted at it.

‘The armour wouldn’t fit you properly if you don’t wear a gambeson. Look boy if you are going to do it, then do it right.’ He said.

They stayed in the very meadow they'd spent last night. Alistair had felt responsible for Rhineas somehow, he didn’t know why was that. He cared for him maybe because the light he saw in his eyes or perhaps he reminded him of the young Edgard, his dear friend. He rejoiced Rhineas's company, he fulfilled the empty space of a friend he once had. He promised himself that he'd train Rhineas to be a Knight and unite with his father.

Alistair lessoned Rhineas the way of sword fighting, Rhineas listened and obeyed sincerely. He taught him how to strike from above.

‘You should keep your right foot behind and lead with the left foot, which should be on forth boy.’ He corrected Rhineas’s posture.

Rhineas stood as he was told.

‘Hold your sword high boy, against your shoulder.’ Alistair yelled.

They had started deep in the forest with constant training of Rhineas. Alistair would battle him twice a day, and sometimes even surprise him with the abrupt attacks. Rhineas had worked on developing his senses and reflexes, Alistair had said, a Knight should be swift as wind, quick as lightening and quiet as ghost, never to underestimate the opponent scrutinize his moves closely, just like you admire every edge and curves of a woman’s body.

‘What?’ Rhineas had cried to that. ‘What are you trying to convey from that.’

‘Oh boy, I really feel plentiful pity for you, if you have never understood the beauty of a woman.’ Alistair laughed.

Rhineas had known what Alistair told him was true, he'd never understood it, but now that he thought about it he sensed an odd feeling prickling inside him that had never happened before. He'd told this to Alistair, and to that, he’d replied, ‘You ain’t staying a boy forever, you are becoming a man.’

‘Bring your sword forward, inclined against your face before you strike, to defend the opponent’s blow.’ Alistair put his sword against Rhineas neck, ‘If you don’t understand the defence position you're dead meat, boy.’

With every passing day in the forest they were traveling deep, Rhineas was getting better, and quicker. The only thing he was bad was at predicting the opponent’s moves. He couldn’t notice opponent's way of combat. Which was a major thing he had to master.

Rhineas also learnt fighting on horseback, he was good at that, he was swift and quick. He was good with spins and shifting hands. Alistair had a great admiration for Rhineas about how quick he learnt everything.

They have been traveling for three months now, and reached to the certain depth of the forest where the trees were gigantic and curled, some of them hunched and few of them tall. The forest possessed a frightening silence unlike the one that was in meadow, here it was scary.

Rhineas noticed an uncanny tree, it had orange leaves with long and rounded finger like sticky flesh clumped over them. They relentlessly curled inward and then spread out while uncurling, it made Rhineas cringe and drown in gooseflesh. It was dark, and impossible to distinguish between day and night. The cold breeze sent shivers through their bodies, cold breathe was spitting out from their mouths.

‘Do not touch any plant, or go near them.’ Alistair warned. ‘You never know what is what in these forests. These trees are known for the habitat of Serchilads, a woman with a lower body of a serpent. She's known to trap humans in an illusion, she has venom in her mouth.’

Rhineas was extremely frightened Alistair had laid traps on their way for the Unicorn, but the greatest threat would not be Unicorns, there are other creatures lurking in this forest which dreaded Rhineas to his soul.

‘Draw your sword boy and keep it close.’ Alistair said. ‘We are going to hunt in the dark, keep your eyes wide, senses clear and movements quick.’

Rhineas inhaled deeply closing his eyes listening to the quietness of the forest, and feeling the air filled with mysteries trying to solve some of them and understand what the forest is trying to say and suddenly a shrilled enchanted neigh impaled the mystic air!