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I enjoyed reading these!! 😁
'Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.'
Yayy I read them!! Congrats in the new project and the progress. :-p
Thx
Is this futuristic or not? Sometimes I felt like it was, but sometimes the setting felt older (like in story four).
No. Baron’s story is set in the Middle Ages (MA) of Wond. Note: what we consider the Middle Ages isn’t what the Wondians would call the Middle Ages. MA refers to the time period between the ancient ages of Wond and the invention of space travel.
In this specific era of MA, such things as automobiles do exist, but they are rare enough that only human royals own them. Elves don’t own them at all and despise them since they still view such advances in technology as witchcraft, leaving them to still cling in some ways to the traditions of the Ancient Ages. Personal clothing styles are a blend of 1900-1940 with some 1800s styles as well at times. The overall feel of this era is similar to the mid 1800s in other regards. I described this MA era in my notes as a “mix and a mash of our centuries into one point of Wondian MA.”
It’s kinda hard to explain otherwise. Hopefully I didn’t confuse you.
How do these factors clash or mesh with each other?
Most of Baron’s story is set in the sister countries of Albandra and Rand. Both these countries have a population of mostly humans, though there are some part-elf people with elemental powers such as Faren, Baron, and the Handel’s (who you’ll meet later). For the most part though, the two countries are merely human in population.
Loria is the elven country next to Albandra. They mostly stick to themselves, the elves and humans not always getting along well, though Princess Eldia has many human friends. Besides Eldia’s visits to these human friends and a few efforts to try and destroy the Bloodsilver, the two countries keep to themselves.
As far as the other civilizations and species go, they aren’t in the story.
As an assassin, Baron is familiar with the elements and powers that his hits may have, but he has never had to kill more than a human or elf. He is aware of the other species like Shyiad and Slyiad, but these he has never come across (the Shyiads and Slyiads are rare at this time, and keep to the Snake Head, or the island of Elqeth).
As for Rya and Ruby, who both possess the third type of magical ability in my world, they could be considered a different species or merely human. Their parents and family all appeared to be normal humans, but it is a debate if they truly were or not. Some powers (such as with part-shyaids) can lie dormant for generations before being revealed in a child. As an example of this, Chase’s family for generations all appeared to be normal humans, and there was nothing to suspect that they carried shyiad blood until Chase developed his powers. It is unknown if this third type of power does this or if it randomly appears in a child.
Whether they are a different species than elf and human or not, the two of them are still similar to humans.
And finally, how old is Baron?
In Clash of Winds, he’s 22.
I hope you enjoyed reading the stories. I also hope my dumping on you of information in this post didn’t bore you.
Every time you smile, a flower blooms somewhere in the world.
#AnduthForever (hopefully💕)I’m glad
Every time you smile, a flower blooms somewhere in the world.
#AnduthForever (hopefully💕)@ellette-giselle @whalekeeper @keilah-h @hybridlore
Sixth story (Note: I did post parts of this one in The Snowball Fight. To all those who read those parts, they have been slightly altered since then, but not by much, so feel free to skip those pieces)
fyi, it might take me a couple days to post the next story after this.
What Kind of Love is This?
Spring came dancing over the country, breaking the cold hold of winter as she once again restored the land to life. Snow melted away. Buds peeped up from the cold ground they had long laid dormant in. The horses, goats, and cattle were laden with coming foals, kids, and calves. The male birds preened and displayed their brightest feathers, and sang their prettiest songs hoping to find this year’s mate. Green began to overcome the sorrowful brown until the fields were almost lush with grass, and the trees had baby leaves still tender and small. The air breathed of renewed life and joy.
Baron was glad to have survived the freezing winter, though he was much weaker than he had been before. It had been six months since he had left the Bloodsilver, and he hadn’t seen an agent searching for him for a couple months. Maybe he could find some little place to work at for food and board, somewhere out of the way of the Bloodsilver. He had never dared to settle for more than a few days at one place, fearing that Faren would come after him. He began traveling along the outskirts of the city, daily going farther and farther away from the cluster of buildings, going deeper and deeper into the peaceful countryside with its vast fields and sparse patches of trees.
While traveling upon a rough road where houses were sparse and there was mostly just miles and miles of farm fields with only the thin shade of one row of trees along the road, Baron passed by an old lady, slowly traveling by herself on the uneven ground with her cane. Baron stopped.
“D-do you need help, ma’am?”
The lady reached up with an age-withered hand and adjusted the glasses on her nose, peering up to see Baron’s face. “Why, yes, thank you, young man.” She held out her arm for Baron to take and steady her. “I live just a little ways down, if you could help me there, I’d be very grateful.”
They walked in silence for a time, until the old lady spoke again. “What’s your name, Dearie?”
“Brutus, ma’am.”
“Brutus. A strong name for a kind young man.”
Baron made no comment, but his stomach grumbled.
“Oh, when did you last have a bite to eat?”
“Yesterday,” Baron replied quietly.
“Oh, you poor dear! I’ll make you a big lunch as a thank you for helping me.”
“That would be much appreciated, ma’am.”
As the thin line of trees came to an end, the old lady told him to stop, lifting a crooked finger to point at a quaint little farmhouse next to a paddock with a few horses and cattle. “This is my house. Do come in.”
As they made their approach, a man probably about Baron’s same age came running out to meet them. “Granny! I was so worried! Who is your new friend?”
“Andy, meet Brutus. He’ll be staying for lunch.”
Andy gave Baron a quick greeting, before helping him bring Granny into the house. Granny set aside her outdoor jacket (for she was prone to cold while outdoors) and bustled about the kitchen for a while, sometimes calling upon Andy for help.
In between helping Granny, Andy began to talk with Baron, who was awkwardly standing by the door of the room, as if ready to run away at moment’s notice.
“I’ve never seen you around here. Where are you from?
“I’m passing through, looking for a job.”
“Oh, we could use an extra hand, couldn’t we, Andy?” Granny interjected, before asking Andy to light the fire in the stove for her.
“Yes, Granny, but we don’t have enough money right now to pay for a hand, unless we sold your Lucky or Prince,” Andy replied as he worked at lighting the requested fire.
Granny seemed offended at the idea of selling whatever Lucky and Prince were. “You will not touch them! They will stay here until they die of old age!”
“I don’t want pay,” Baron quickly exclaimed, “I only want a little food and a place to sleep.”
Andy thought for a moment, but before he could answer, Granny did for him, “If that is all, then you can easily stay here and work with Andy! What do you think, Dearie?”
“How much do you know about horses and cattle?” Andy asked.
“Nothing, to be honest.”
“Well, I guess I can teach you. After lunch I’ll show you around.”
“Now, while I prepare lunch, you should go wash up.” Granny adjusted her glasses again and examined Baron. “You look as if you haven’t washed in months!”
“That is the case,” Baron replied, softly enough that Granny couldn’t hear, but Andy did.
As Andy led Baron to where he could wash, he questioned him about it.
“I…lost my home a few months ago. I’ve been wandering ever since.” Baron spoke hesitantly, his eyes aimed downwards.
“I see. Well, Granny always had a thing for taking in lost and pitiful creatures.”
After Baron washed, he returned to find lunch almost ready. Within a few minutes, Granny commanded him to sit at the wooden table, and asked Andy to pray. Baron knew nothing about this strange thing called ‘praying’ but he copied Andy’s actions of bowing his head and closing his eyes. Afterwards, Granny set a plate of food before him.
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
“Oh, do call me Granny.”
Baron nodded with affirmation, before beginning to eat. He was starving, and Granny and Andy seemed to notice, for they excused his breach of manners as he ate.
After they had eaten, Andy took him outside, showing him about the barn, instructing him on basic duties, and telling him about the animals.
As Andy was talking about the cows, a brown horse with a white star and snip trotted over to the paddock fence and whinnied. Andy stopped talking and walked up to the fence, with Baron in tow.
“This is Lucky,” he said, petting the horse. “He’s not much use to us besides an occasional ride but Granny won’t let me sell him. He’s one of her lost and pitiful creatures that she’s taken under her wing.” Andy pointed at the other horses out in the paddock; a dark dapple and a black with a blaze and four stockings. “Those two are Prince and Flight Risk.” He pointed to another paddock that had a faded dapple laden with an unborn foal and a chestnut mare with a pretty little fellow trotting along. “Whirlwind will foal in another month. The other mare is Lady and her foal is Fish.”
Baron looked at Andy in perplexed surprise. “Fish?”
“He was born early. When I told Granny, the first thing she said was ‘fish! I forgot to get fish from Ben!’ She was only half-awake,” Andy chuckled. “So we named him Fish.”
Baron nodded. Lucky whinnied again.
“Go on, pet him,” Andy told Baron.
Baron hesitated. “I’ve never pet a horse before.”
“He won’t bite. Go ahead,” Andy coaxed.
“But-”
“Oh, just pet him already!”
Baron haltingly reached out a hand, touching Lucky’s nose. The horse blew out a breath of warm air. “Why is his nose so soft?” Baron wondered aloud.
Andy laughed. “See? It’s not that bad!”
Baron cracked a smile. He believed he’d like this new life. As he pet Lucky, he called to mind how Andy had prayed before the meal. “Can you tell me what praying is?”
Andy seemed shocked at the question. “You don’t know?”
Baron shook his head.
“Praying is how we talk to God. Do you know who He is?”
Baron’s brows knotted, recalling to his memory the night when he had visited Max and Ruby, asking for help. “An all-powerful, all knowing being, who is divine and holy. He is also just, and does justice to all who have sinned. But God is merciful and sent his only Son, Immanuel, to wash away our sins, so that all who believe in him are righteous and sinless before God,” that was how Max had described him. “Yes, I do. I didn’t know you could talk to Him.”
“That’s the beautiful thing about God, we can, anytime, and without the rituals that others have to do to talk to their dead gods. We still do show respect by bowing our heads, closing our eyes and folding our hands, but it is not necessary to do so to pray.”
“And He talks back?”
“Yes, in His own way. He doesn’t talk back like a normal person would in a conversation, but He speaks through His Holy Word, a book written by Him. I’ll show it to you sometime.”
Baron scratched Lucky’s chin. “Thank you.”
Andy and Granny were both as kind as Max and Ruby, and they both believed in this God of theirs. Maybe, Baron wondered, that was why they were so kind. Maybe that was why they were so different than those with whom Baron had spent his life with before. Maybe that was why they were so much better than the Bloodsilver.
Cool water splashed in Baron’s face as he washed before heading into the farmhouse to eat. Coming back out later with a piece of bread, he leaned against the paddock fence and fed Lucky.
Almost a year and a half had passed since Baron had come to live with Granny and Andy. Despite himself, he grew close to them, allowing Granny to take him under her wing as if he was her own child. He had gained his strength, and for the first time in forever, he felt happy and safe.
Andy laughed as he came down the steps from the front door, “From not knowing a single thing about horses to sneaking lunch bread to one!”
Baron smiled. “It’s hard not to like Lucky.” Baron scratched behind Lucky’s ear and straightened his forelock.
“Hey, Granny would like it if you could run out for groceries later. You can take Lucky. I have a few things I need to do about the house. The roof is a little dilapidated, and a few sections of shingles need to be replaced.”
“Can Granny wait until after I finish repairing the fence from Flight Risk’s antics last night?” Lucky’s lips made a loud op op sound as he reached for the other small chunk of bread in Baron’s hand.
“Yes, I think she can wait that long.”
“Good, I’ll get to that then.” Baron patted Lucky as he gave him the last bit of bread. “I’ll be back later to ride you, bud.”
By the time Baron mounted Lucky with his groceries for the journey home, evening was already setting. The ride was peaceful. Baron enjoyed the feeling of Lucky’s shifting muscles underneath him (for he rode without a saddle) and the relaxing sound of his slow hooves as he walked along the road home.
“It seems like a dream, Lucky. Almost two years ago, I was an assassin, now I’m a farm hand, and you know what? I wish I had been a farm hand my entire life. This has been a blissful time.”
They made their way along in silence for a bit, before Lucky pulled to a stop. His ears snapped to attention, and his nostrils widened as he caught a scent in the air. He nickered.
“What is it, bud? What’s wrong?”
Seeing Lucky’s gaze shift to the horizon where home was, Baron looked up and saw a flash of red. Fear struck Baron’s peaceful heart. He dug his heels into Lucky’s sides, and the horse began to run. Running, running, his hooves pounding against the ground. It was a short time to get within sight of the house with the galloping horse, but to Lucky’s rider it felt like an eternity. As Baron finally caught sight of home, his heart sunk.
“No, no, no, no!” Water formed in his eyes. He dismounted Lucky, running to the house, which was being licked by flames. He burst through the front door, which was not yet consumed, calling out for Granny and Andy. Entering the smoky kitchen, he stood transfixed, fear and shock making him no more than a statue.
Granny was on the floor, whether alive or dead, Baron didn’t know. Andy was held fast by a man with blond hair and ice cold eyes. Faren, the Fire Wielder. Baron’s old friend when he was the greatest Bloodsilver assassin, the Silver Streak.
“Let him go, Faren!” Baron yelled over the roar of the flames.
“No,” Came the cold reply. “You’ll have to come and take him.”
“Get Granny out of here!” Andy commanded, before a coughing fit took him.
For the first time in months, Baron called upon the wind. It welled about him in a small whirlwind. Sending a wind towards Granny, he carried her outside with the gust, taking her to safety.
After she was out of the way, Baron sent a sudden burst of strong wind at Faren, knocking the man back. His grip around Andy loosened, and the farm boy slipped from his grasp, coughing from the smoke as he put distance between him and Faren.
“I’m sorry, Andy. He came for me.”
“I figured that. Don’t worry about the house, Brutus.”
Baron nodded. He sent Andy out of the house with another gust of wind, before turning to Faren. “You were foolish to arrive alone! You know I am stronger!”
“Maybe, but I have grown stronger as well!” Fire ignited in Faren’s hands, and he cast it towards Baron. Baron pushed back with a gust of wind. He called upon a stronger gust overcoming Faren with such a powerful burst that Faren was pinned against the wall. He was saved by a flaming beam almost collapsing on top of Baron.
Baron searched through the fire for his opponent, finally catching a glimpse of him. Rather than use his wind, Baron risked the flames and ran straight towards Faren. Having closed the distance, Baron drove his elbow into Faren’s chest. The two men fell back against the back door to the little house. The door gave way, and they tumbled out onto the grass.
They recovered their feet almost at once and clashed again, wind against flames. At the second clash, blood began to trickle from the corner of Baron’s mouth.
So that is Faren’s plan. To fight until my stamina gives way and my powers tear me apart. It’s the only way I can see him winning. I need to end this fight quickly, it’s been too long since I’ve practiced my abilities.
Baron looked about frantically. He needed to do something, anything to stop Faren long enough so that Baron could get to Granny. That was when he saw Flight Risk. Frightened by the fire, the horse was frantically pacing and neighing by where Baron had fixed the fence earlier. With a stab of pain in his chest, he gave one last strong gust that threw Faren underneath the hooves of the already panicked horse. The horse reared and bucked, his hooves trampling Faren before the horse took off with a great speed to the other side of the paddock and jumped the fence, disappearing into the night.
Baron approached as Faren slowly picked himself up. “I said I would no longer kill, but if you don’t leave now and leave these people alone, I will kill you.” The moon had risen, and Baron’s hair became silver in its rays. He could become the Silver Streak again, one last time, if it meant protecting Granny and Andy.
One of Faren’s arms was broken, along with a few ribs. He wasn’t in any condition to fight, and he knew Baron could easily kill him if he so wished. The Fire Wielder fled, and Baron turned his attention to Andy and Granny. Running to the front of the house, he found Andy kneeling over Granny’s body of the grass. One look from Andy’s tear-filled eyes told Baron all he needed to know.
In agony, Baron let out a cry, and though it hurt him, a great wind swirled about him. Baron fell to his knees by Granny, tears running down his face. “I’m so sorry, Andy. Her death is my fault.”
Andy’s tear-filled brown eyes met Baron’s. “Yeah, I can’t deny that, but she wouldn’t want me to hold it against you. Besides, she probably died more of worry for you than from what Faren did.”
The two wept together.
But Baron didn’t understand. How could Andy be okay with the fact that Baron was the cause of Granny’s death? How could he not hold it against Baron? Yes, Andy was always a kind, loving person, but what kind of love extends that far?
Almost as soon as Baron posed the question in his mind, the answer came.
The love of their God. The love of the One that they prayed to everyday. The love of the One whose great book they took joy in reading.
Andy had explained it to Baron before, that he tried to love others, to be kind and merciful to them, just as God had been to Andy.
Baron got to his feet, looking to see Lucky still patiently ground-tied where Baron had left him near the end of the tree line along the road. The good old horse! “I should go. I will only bring more trouble. Lucky is there on the road, with all the groceries.”
“Brutus, wait….”
“My name isn’t Brutus, its Baron.”
“I know, that’s what that man called you by. But I want you to wait before you go, I know Granny would want you to help me bury her.”
Baron hesitated. Faren might return, but Baron also dearly wished to say his last good-byes to the old woman. Suddenly, he shook his head. No, he couldn’t. If Faren returned, he might kill Andy too. Besides, what business did the one who caused her death, her killer, have being at her funeral? “No, I can’t be.” Baron’s voice cracked, and before Andy could stop him, he was gone, calling upon the wind one last time to take him away. The last thing Andy saw of him was the silver streak of his hair.
Granny was buried in a little cemetery on a hilltop, overlooking the beautiful farm land she loved, the place where she had been born, and had died. The place where she had fallen in love and married when she was still in the bloom of her youth. The place where she had been widowed. The place of all her sorrows, and all her joys. The place where she had taken in all those lost, pitiful creatures: Lucky, Flight Risk, Prince, Whirlwind, a few calves and her favorites of all, Andy and Baron.
Every time you smile, a flower blooms somewhere in the world.
#AnduthForever (hopefully💕)Thx
🧐 I need more convincing of your self-confidence. 🥳🤩🎉
I hope you enjoyed reading the stories. I also hope my dumping on you of information in this post didn’t bore you.
Nope, does not bore me! The reason I asked those questions was because the answers were not evident in the story, so now you know. Of course it’s up to you what information you want to sprinkle in.
There has been no news for Silksong for today...
Oh I liked this one. So sad tho. I hope Andy comes back into the story because I like what I’ve seen of him!!!
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
I hope Andy comes back into the story because I like what I’ve seen of him!!!
He will return.
Every time you smile, a flower blooms somewhere in the world.
#AnduthForever (hopefully💕)Yay!!!
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
@rae wow! That was even more intense than the last one.
"When in doubt, eat cheese crackers."-me to my charries who don't even know about cheese crackers
@ellette-giselle @whalekeeper @keilah-h @hybridlore
Story #7
Jenna
Jenna Handel pulled her fur-lined cloak closer about her as a cold wind blew. The country of Rand was well-known for its chilling winters, along with her sister country, Albandra.
“Are you alright, Miss?” Ken, her body guard, asked.
“Yes, only slightly chilled, thank you.”
“If you want, Miss, you could wait in one of the shops while I send for Ben. You will be safely out of the wind in the carriage.”
“Oh, I’m fine Ken. It’s only a short walk to Mr. Pennylets’s shop. I can handle the cold for a moment. You should be less worried about me and more about the poor people who have no house to find refuge in.” Jenna looked to the side. There, across the street from Jenna and Ken was a group of homeless people, wrapped in old blankets and rags, gathered around a small fire trying to keep warm. “The poor dears. I would never survive as well as they do. Some even children.” Her eyes alighted upon a mother and two young boys, huddled together under one blanket.
“One blanket won’t be enough for a mother and two children to keep warm.”
Jenna looked around as she heard the quiet mutter. “Ken? Did you say something?”
“No, Miss.”
Jenna looked across the street again, seeing a young man, tall and thin with hair like frosty snow drop down lightly from a rooftop. He unwrapped a blanket from around his shoulders and gave it to the mother, along with a few little coins, and a small loaf of bread.
One of the men sitting around the fire grumbled that he could use those coins better than the mother and her children. The young man with white hair turned towards him. “A child’s life is something too often under-valued. Watch your tongue.”
With that, the man sprang up back onto the roof, perched on the edge above them, watching the man with warry eyes as the hungry children devoured the bread.
Jenna walked across the street, Ken eyeing the strangers around the fire warily, tensed at the ready to protect his charge. Jenna peered up at the man perched on the roof. “What’s your name, good sir?”
“Don’t call me good.” The lower half of the man’s face was covered by a light blue scarf that he held up with his hand. A wind blew about him, and he shivered for he only wore an old thin jacket, gloves, and his scarf to keep him warm.
“What is your name? And do come down out of the way of the wind.”
“Brutus and I can’t get out of the wind’s way.”
“Why not?” Jenna was confused. All he had to do was jump down from the roof and huddle by the fire.
“The wind follows me.”
“Are you a Wind Charmer then? I’m an Earth Seedling.”
“Good for you, good day Miss.” Brutus rose from his place on the rooftop, and before Jenna could stop him, he was gone.
Jenna turned her eyes away and reached out a gloved hand to the mother, a kind and gentle smile on her face. “On the streets is no place for children, come with me. What are your names?”
“Mine be Bell, mum, and these two be Daniel and David,” the mother replied.
“Strong names for fine boys! Come, my family is in want of a maid. We will house you and take care of your children if you accept.”
Bell grasped her hands together. “Thank the Lord! Yes, mum, gladly!”
Jenna munched on a teacake, nestled comfortably by the fireplace in her home that evening. Ken sat silently across from her, listening to her talk about the man they had met that day as she ate the cake. “He was different Ken, I know he was. I doubt he was a thief, or a criminal of any kind. Thieves are selfish, murderers have no care for human life. I’m sure he was driven to the streets by some unfortunate event. The poor man.” She munched on the cake again for a bit. “I don’t understand why he left so abruptly. I understand that he didn’t want to come down from the rooftop so that he wouldn’t chill the others with his wind, but why did he have to leave the rooftop? He had no blanket, he was cold. I’m also almost sure that he gave all his money and food to that woman and her children.” She fell silent in thought for a short time before speaking again. “If he doesn’t find somewhere or something to keep him warm, he could die this winter.” She was silent again for a time, before suddenly looking up at Ken. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“I don’t understand why you are so worried about this man,” Ken replied, face devoid of emotion.
“Ken! Have you been listening to me?”
“Yes, Miss Jenna,” Ken leaned forward in his seat, a line forming between his eyebrows. “But this man is young, and you saw him to be nimble. He could easily find a job. How do you know that he was really homeless is the first place?”
“His clothes! They were dirty. The only thing mostly clean was his face and scarf.”
“Maybe he is a man who doesn’t care too much about being clean. Such people do exist, Miss.”
“Why did he have a blanket and not a warmer jacket?”
“Maybe he misplaced his other jacket and so used a blanket, or his jacket was being repaired by a seamtress.”
“That’s a bit of a stretch, Ken.”
“I know, Miss, but you must stop worrying about him so. He is a young man still. He will find a way to survive. Forget about him.”
Jenna sighed. “I guess so. You’re probably right, Ken. Alright, shall we talk about how good this teacake is?”
Ken nodded, “If it would improve your spirits and you wish to do so, Miss.”
“It would greatly improve my spirits, especially if you would try one with me.”
“If you wish, Miss.”
The pair of horses snorted and pranced in place. The carriage driver held tight to the reins, speaking to the horses in calming tones. Within a few minutes, the great doors to the Handel mansion opened, and Jenna came out, with Ken in tow. Ken opened the carriage door and helped her in, before getting in himself and sitting across from her. “Ben, will you take us to the house of the Jenson’s? Mrs. Jenson isn’t feeling very well.”
“Yes, Miss,” The carriage driver replied. With a word, the pair of fine chestnut horses pulled the carriage forward, down the mansion driveway and onto the street.
By the time Jenna and Ken left the Jenson’s, darkness had set in. Jenna stared out the window into the dimly lit streets, watching the dim scenes roll slowly past as she talked to Ken. “I think Mrs. Jenson will recover just fine. It’s only a small cold and she’s already feeling better. Her kids seemed to like you a lot.”
“I brought them candy.”
Jenna looked at her body guard. He was a man broad in the shoulders, and bound with muscles hidden underneath his dark brown jacket. His blond hair was short, only about half an inch long. His bluish grey eyes usually didn’t show much emotion. Looking at him, you wouldn’t think he was the type to bring candy to children and play with them while his charge tended to their mother. Jenna smiled. “That was very nice of you.”
“Thank you, Miss.”
“You’re welcome.” Jenna looked back out the window, before suddenly calling out, “Ben, can we stop?”
“Yes, Miss.” Ben pulled the reins, halting the horses.
“What is it Miss Jenna?” Ken asked as Jenna rose from her seat and went to step out of the carriage, “Excuse me, Miss, but I should help you down.”
“I’m quite capable of getting out of a carriage on my own, Ken. I merely thought I saw someone.”
“There are many people out on the streets, Miss. Some of them are dangerous.”
“That it why I have you, dear Ken.” Jenna stepped onto the cobblestone road, giving a smile back to him. Her bodyguard followed her onto the street as she walked towards a fire lit in an alleyway. A soft breeze played with her light brown hair. As they neared the fire, Ken saw a face half covered by a scarf, lit by the light of the flames, hair white. It looked like the young man that they had seen two weeks ago.
“Brutus? Is that you?”
The man, whose eyes had been on the flames, looked up. “Yes, my name is Brutus. Who are you?” His green eyes looked Jenna and Ken over. The breeze turned into a wind, swirling about and playing with the fire.
“I’m Jenna Handel, the daughter of Dr. Duke Handel. This is my bodyguard, Ken.”
“What do you want with me? Where did you learn my name?”
Ken noted the man’s defensiveness and slight paranoia in his eye.
“You told us your name two weeks ago, and I saw you and wanted to say hello,” Jenna smiled kindly.
Brutus seemed confused. “When did I…” Remembrance flooded into his expression and the almost paranoid look fled. “Oh, that’s right.”
“I’ve been worrying about you, how have you been?” Jenna sat down by the fire, with little regard for how her skirts would get dirty. Ken remained standing behind her.
“It isn’t your business to worry about me.”
“Maybe not, but I still did.”
As they had talked, Brutus had kept his scarf over his nose and mouth. Now, he dropped it. Something in Jenna’s kind and gentle tone caused a wall to crumble. “I’ve been doing fine.”
“Why are you out here may I ask? Don’t you have a home of some kind?”
A tinge of sorrow leaped into the young man’s face. “No, I lost my home.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. May I ask how?”
“Fire,” came the quiet response.
“Do you have family who can take you in?”
Brutus turned his face away from Jenna. “Granny died.”
Jenna looked sympathetically at Brutus. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize, it wasn’t your fault.”
“Can you rebuild?” Jenna’s hopeful tone made Brutus turn to look at her again.
“No, I don’t have money, and I can’t even if I did.”
“Don’t you have a job?”
Brutus shrugged. “I run errands every once in a while for people to get pocket change, but I can’t hold a permanent job.”
“Why not?”
“I just can’t.” The scarf went back up over his nose and mouth. The wall was rebuilt.
“There’s no way you just can’t. There must be a reason.” Jenna pressed.
“I just can’t,” Brutus insisted.
“But there has to be a reason!” Jenna pressed further.
Ken had always noticed that in some ways, Miss Jenna was like a little child with the amount of questions she asked. It was no surprise that she asked so many, her father had always encouraged her to wonder.
Brutus rose. “The Bloodsilver is after me, they burned my house. I can’t hold a job because then they would find me, and do it all over again. That’s the reason! Are you happy?” Brutus called upon a wind and blew out the fire. Even with the fire out, Ken and Jenna could still see him by the silver sheen that his hair gave off in the moonlight.
The Bloodsilver! The dreaded mafia organization in Albandra who was steadily gaining control in that country and partly in Rand as well now. Many people had tried to take them down, even the elves of Loria, but all had failed. The Princess of Loria herself, they say, almost became a victim of their assassin. “I’m sorry, Brutus. Is there any way I can help?” Her genuine care, while it was too dark to see much of her face, shone in the tone of her voice.
Brutus turned his back towards her. “I’m fine.” The muffled sound of his voice through the scarf made his statement sound false.
“No, you’re not.” Jenna sighed. “If you ever need something, food, a blanket, anything, come to the Handel Mansion, okay?”
“I’ll think about it.” With that, Brutus was gone, leaving behind only a puff of wind, the smell of smoke from his dead fire, and the streak of his silver hair, disappearing from sight.
Jenna sighed again, getting up from the ground with the help of Ken’s hand. “Let’s go home Ken.”
“You were right, Miss.”
“Right about what exactly?” Jenna asked, slightly confused.
“We should worry about him.”
It had been a few days since Jenna had met Brutus in the city and spoken to him. She sat at her piano in the evening, her graceful fingers gliding over the keys in a gentle and sweet song. The wind howled about the house strongly that evening, and the fires in the mansion were built high against the cold outside. Her father was out, as was usual, traveling to tend to some sick nobleman far away from home, and her mother had gone with him. The only ones to keep her company now were Ken and the servants. The servants now were busy about their evening duties and eating their own supper while Ken sat in a chair beside the piano, silently listening to Jenna play as he peered out the window into the night.
It was as he listened that he suddenly started up from his chair. Jenna stopped her playing. “What is it?”
“That man, Brutus, has come.”
“How do you know?”
“I just saw a line of silver go for the door.”
Sure enough, the door rang. “Don’t bother about that, Mr. Whenther, I’ll get it myself,” Jenna called out before the butler had time to answer the door. Jenna’s skirts swished around her as she rose from her seat at the piano and went for the door with a bit of haste. Ken, as usual, trailed behind her like an unshakable shadow.
Sure enough, Brutus was at the door, shivering from the cold.
“Brutus. Come in and get warm,” she stepped to the side, invitingly motioning inside the door. Brutus entered and stood awkwardly off to the side, his arms wrapped around him. “Come and sit by the fire.” Brutus followed Jenna, sitting in one of the large chairs by the blazing fire. Ken threw a blanket around his shoulders. “What do you need?” Jenna asked, looking into his green eyes with her own.
“Mostly warmth,” he replied.
“What else?”
“I’m…kinda hungry.”
“Bell!”
The maid appeared as her mistress called for her. “Will you get Brutus something to eat? And ask Mary to pack something to take with him when he leaves.”
Bell bowed. “Yes, Miss, I would be grateful to.” Bell turned and left.
“Do you remember her?” Jenna asked Brutus.
Brutus thought for a moment, then shook his head.
“She has two boys, and she used to live out on the streets. You gave her your blanket to help them keep warm, along with a loaf of bread and a few coins.”
Brutus thought back for a moment, before a sparkle of recognition came to his eyes. “I’m glad she found employment. Is she happy?”
“Why don’t you ask her?”
Bell soon returned bearing a bowl of steaming soup, giving it to Brutus
Brutus thanked her as he took it, before hesitating. Finally, he asked, “Are you happy here?”
Bell looked at him with a smile. “Yes, very much so, sir. My two boys be fine and healthy now. Thank you for your kindness.”
Brutus sipped on the soup. “Don’t thank me. It was the least I could do to make up for the mistakes I’ve made.” Brutus looked into the fire with deep tones of regret written in his face.
“Will that be all, Miss?” Bell asked.
“Yes, for now. Thank you, Bell.”
“My pleasure, Miss.” Bell bowed and left.
Jenna sat down in the chair across from Brutus. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve made many mistakes, done so many horrible things. By helping people, I hope that I can die with at least a small amount of knowledge that I was for a fraction of my life a blessing instead of a curse to others.”
Jenna stared at Brutus. He was a young man, who couldn’t be older than thirty. Why did he talk so? Why did he talk as if he was an older man, who had lived a long life full of regrets and now was trying to make up for it as if he would die next week? He sounded like a man who had lost hope in life. “Do you know God? Immanuel?”
Brutus sipped on the soup again. “I’ve been told about Him,”
“But do you know Him?”
“I know who He is.”
“Does He dwell in your heart? Have you had His forgiveness and mercy?”
“With what I have done, there is no forgiveness,” The hopeless look in Brutus’s eyes made Jenna feel pity for him.
“But there is no one who is beyond His forgiveness. No one.”
Brutus met her eyes. “I have killed ninety-three people. Is there still forgiveness for me?”
At Brutus’s words, Ken moved more protectively towards Jenna, alert.
Jenna didn’t skip a beat. “Yes! Yes of course there still is!”
Brutus shook his head. “That sounds too good to be true.”
“But it is true! Accept his forgiveness and mercy Brutus!” Jenna tightly clasped her hands in her lap, leaning forward in her chair towards him in desperation.
“Maybe another time, when I’m more worthy.”
“But now is the time! Don’t wait, there’s no reason to. He will take you as you are! He doesn’t care how broken, how sinful, how vile you may be, He will take you into His fold, and heal you.”
“Words spoken by someone who couldn’t hurt the tiniest of creatures.” Brutus shook his head. “You can’t understand the depths of my sin.”
Jenna rose form her seat suddenly. “I’ll be right back.” She left, and soon returned with a book. “You can read, can’t you?”
Brutus nodded.
Jenna handed him the leather-bound book. “If you don’t believe me, then maybe you’d benefit from reading His words for yourself.”
Brutus set down his soup, taking the book. He opened it randomly and peered at the page. Then he closed it, offering it back to Jenna. “Keep it, this book would end up destroyed. I can’t shelter it from rain or weather.”
Jenna reluctantly took it back. “I’ll find a little pocket version to go in your pouch then,” Jenna resolved, having noticed the odd pouch strapped to Brutus’s hip. As she said this, Ken dug in one of his own pockets, taking out a small book.
“I believe this is what you meant, Miss,” He gave Brutus the book, as Jenna’s young features lit with joy.
“Oh, thank you, Ken!”
Brutus smiled his thanks as he unbuckled his pouch and slid the little book into it. Jenna made him promise that he’d read it.
Brutus didn’t stay too long afterward. Jenna gave him a bit of food for the next day along with a warm jacket before he disappeared into the night.
Jenna watched the silver sheen of his hair fade away, before gently closing the door. Turning back to Ken, she asked, “Do you think he’ll read it?”
“I hope so, Miss, I truly do.”
Every time you smile, a flower blooms somewhere in the world.
#AnduthForever (hopefully💕)YAY! Jenna!
"You're more boppable."
#AnduthForever (Lord Willing)This was one of my favorites so far!! Very good! Very well done!
I like Jenna a lot! And Ken.
Your skill and style are really amazing!
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
Glad you liked it!
She won’t be in the next story, just warning you, but Max, Ruby, and Rya will be returning. Story after that, Jenna will be returning with Ken.
Every time you smile, a flower blooms somewhere in the world.
#AnduthForever (hopefully💕)
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