Fantasy : Untitled (Part 2)

"Daxon"

A tall lanky youth of perhaps sixteen, scrambled up the slope to sit down beside Daxon.

"What are you doing here? Your mother's making life difficult for everyone at the inn looking for you."

Daxon gave his friend a wink.

"Why, I'm just relaxing, Kel. Just relaxing. How's your apprenticeship with the smith coming along?"

"Argh, it's tough, it's hot, and it's dirty. Sometimes, I wonder what came over me when I decided to become a smith. I don't seem to have the muscles required."

"You'll do fine. Give it some time. You don't learn to walk on the day you are born."

"Perhaps"

Kel, short for Kelian, was an orphan. His mother died bringing him to this world, and his father took to wandering the world as a vagabond. He left behind Kel, as Kel resembled his mother too much, and painful memories were always revived whenever his father looked at him. He was left in the care of an uncle, who struggled and tried his best to act in the capacities of both father and mother to the bereaved boy.

Kel's uncle, Cobrien, was a merchant dealing in rare and exotic artifacts. Although business was sporadic at best, he nonetheless earned enough to feed and provide for the needs of Kel. Unmarried, he devoted his years to Kel's upbringing. He was the father Kel had never had. It was too much for Kel to bear, when Cobrien died unexpectedly when Kel was twelve years old.

The day after Cobrien's somewhat quiet funeral proceedings, Kel sat down numbly beside his uncle's grave, and stared with haunted eyes into nothingness, oblivious to man and weather. And for two days he sat thus, unmoving, uncaring, until Daxon's mother, Illena, eyes brimming with sympathetic tears, took steps and persuaded Kel, half dragging him home with her. Thereafter, with almost inhuman patience, she slowly but determinedly picked up the shattered pieces of Kel's life and glued them back together with tender loving care. The cracks were still there, but slowly, Kel regained a fraction of his former vitality and cheerfulness.

Inevitably, Daxon and Kel became the best of friends, inseparable like brothers. Daxon's carefree manner had captivated Kel, and even more able than Illena, he was able to breach the defences Kel had set up against other people.

So where Daxon was, Kel was certain to be somewhere nearby.

(To be continued ...)

Tags: Fantasy, Story, Dreams

Fantasy : Untitled (Part 1)

Sunlight bathed his face in the gentle warmth of spring as he laid on his back upon a small grassy slope, idly watching the puffs of beautiful and gracefully flowing clouds as they were gliding from one end of the horizon to the other, seemingly driven by strong and mysterious forces. It was a comfort and enjoyment to lay thus, after the reluctant retreat of winter, with eyes closed and dreaming a youngster's dream of adventures and glory.

Daxon was a younster, despite the fact that he looked much older than his eighteen years of existence. He was of average build, product of his efforts at striking and maintaining a balance between work and relaxation. The folks in town had always commented on the serious look he portrayed with his big blue eyes. But in reality, he was a witty and humourous fellow, and his personal religion centered around making people laugh and feel good. One could almost say he was quite talented in this arena, with an uncanny ability to remain serious looking while spinning an outrageous tale. The folks enjoyed his antics and his company, so much so that they often chose to overlook his occasional mischief.

In retrospect, he had to admit that he was very happy living in this town of Torian. He loved the townsfolk and they loved him. But sometimes, he had a peculiar feeling that somehow, a part of his life seems incomplete. There seems to be another destiny calling out for him other than the one he had always envisioned. With a start, he came out of his musings and ventured a chuckle to himself. Maybe, he thought, maybe it was only his overly active imagination playing tricks.

The town of Torian was very close to mother nature. There was the huge Green Heart Forest to the south, near the slope where Daxon was lying, and the innumerable peaks of the majestic Kolkan Mountains lining the west. Myriad varieties of birds in each and every colour were often seen flying about, accompanied by a cacophony of chirping and tweeting. Daxon liked nature, since being near to nature allowed him to hide from his mother, who seem always to have some form of work and chore to harness his youthful energy. He did not mind the exertions, but sometimes, his mother tended to be excessive. He had just finished repairing some furniture in one of the rooms in the inn operated by his mother, and stole out quietly when her attention was otherwise engaged.

(To be continued...)

Tags: Fantasy, Story