The Age of Alrynn

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. There weren’t always great chunks ripped out of the cliffs. The river didn’t always bend wildly into vast bathing pools in improbable gorges, and the pebbles weren’t always worn smooth. There weren’t always broken tips on the pines that thickly blanketed the slopes. The wind wasn’t always accompanied by shrill shrieks and deep grunts from cavernous chests of immense airborne beasts. The high plains on the surrounding mountain tops didn’t always wear bare patches where tongues of fire had scorched with such intensity that the earth itself lay barren.

There was a time when the valley of Gayle lay still. The only sounds, the gentle rush of the river and the whisper of trees, paired with occasional chirped conversations of birds. And then a half-dead prince fell from the sky, clinging to the neck of a pale, exhausted, scaled beast. The dragon tumbled down on ragged, outstretched wings, flattening young pines in little more than a controlled crash. Loosely flanking them, equally dishevelled and fatigued, the remains of the prince’s elite squadron, a scant half dozen of injured riders and bleeding dragons collided untidily with the earth. The dragons shook their heads and crawled into the river, the water gently tugging out the arrows and teasing away char and blood. The prince and his men staggered together on the shore. Weary eyes assessed wounds, then slowly lifted to take stock of the valley the pale dragon had chosen for them. The time of stillness in the valley of Gayle had come to an end.

As had the time of a rogue dark wizard to go unchallenged.

*

The world was dark. The young woman drifted, suspended in a black void, her body weightless. A slow dull ache radiated from her core and along her limbs. Time in this place had no form, an expanse of undefined moments that stretched out in all directions. She became aware of a distant stiffness in her shoulders. Curious, she cast her mind towards the sensation, eager to identify the source of the feeling but cautious of igniting a stronger ache. A new pain sparked in her abdomen, sharper than her shoulders. She sent her mind to enquire tentatively down her torso, shifting her focus to the new site.

The throbbing intensified throughout her, pulsing against her head. Her body tingled, reacting to something beyond the void. A dull thrum of voices echoed around her as the black dissolved into a haze, pulling her slowly out of the beclouded inbetween. Her eyes swam, trying to make sense of this blurred world gradually coming into focus around her. A dark room. Rough stone walls. Torchlight flickering in the gloom.

Human shapes and voices gathering around her, distant footsteps getting louder. The door opening and more people filling the room. She stared hard at the blurred shapes in front of her, willing them into focus. Five figures, one kneeling before her and finally becoming clear as he leaned in close to where she lay on her side on a low pallet. He was scanning her face intently. She tried to shift away from him, his proximity making her uncomfortable, but her body remained unresponsive. Instead, she kept her eyes downcast, refusing to meet his stare.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

As the question penetrated her battered consciousness, she was suddenly shocked. She had no idea. She was... herself. But who was that? She blinked and tried to shake her head, straining for clarity in her confused thoughts. The man repeated the question, more loudly and then using different words that had the same tone. Another language? Where was she? She could only remain silent while she struggled to grasp her identity, fixing her eyes on the insignia on his collar. A fierce beast with wings and sharp teeth. It began to blur again and her eyelids became unbearably heavy. Vaguely she registered an arm reaching for her, shaking her shoulder, before she drifted back into the black.

When she awoke next it was in a bed, not a particularly comfortable one but a step up from the pallet. Her head felt clearer. The smothering haze had ebbed enough for her to see properly and take in her surroundings. The chamber was simple, several other beds lined the wall next to her and four more against the opposite wall. A large window revealed a stretching blue sky, and the atmosphere rang with silence. A small table beside her bed, laden with a mortar and pestle, ointments and herbs.

She tried to sit up but found that her wrists were bound, strapped down on either side of her. The dull ache still throbbed in her abdomen, and she craned her neck to see a dark stain was smudged over a white linen sheet. The air held a slight metallic tang and the ache sharpened with the tensing of her stomach muscles. She lay back down and focused on dissipating the pain, her eyes boring into the ceiling.

Footsteps echoed outside. A long hall? The door swung open, and an older woman entered, tutting in disapproval as her eyes landed on the stain. Evidently bleeding to death wasn’t the desired outcome. That had to be good? The woman crossed the room selected a small bunch of herbs from the bedside table, plucked the leaves and ground them in a mortar and pestle.

“This’ll ‘elp in a minute” she said, her voice soothing. “What’s your name, duck?”

Alrynn.

From nowhere, the word formed clearly in her mind. There was no doubt it was her name, so she carefully cleared her throat, “My name is… Alrynn.”

“Well, that’s a lovely name, my girl.” The older woman ran a gentle hand through Alrynn’s hair, cupping at the base of her neck to help her to lift her head. She wafted the ground herbs under Alrynn’s nose. The aroma curled up her nostrils, sharp and bitter, she flicked her eyes to the woman above her, worried.

“It’s ok love, breathe in deeply, it’ll lessen the pain,”

Alrynn thought the throb was tolerable, but she inhaled anyway, spluttering at the intensity of the grounds which sent an arrow of pain to her stomach.

The woman left the herbs to take effect while she fussed around the table, taking her selection of ointments.

Gradually the throbbing ebbed to a distant echo.

“Better?” the woman asked.

Alrynn nodded.

At the confirmation the woman moved to the bed and begun undressing the wound, Alrynn stared, nowhere in her mind could she recall how she obtained it. With a jolt she remembered the interrogation in the dark cell, her shock at having no answer for that man’s urgent question. She frantically searched her memory again, trying to find a shred of tangible detail. But her mind remained stubbornly empty of anything further back than the cell.

The woman removed the last bandage peeling it back from her stomach, Alrynn grimaced. Though the pain was gone, the sensation made her skin crawl. The woman apologised quietly and continued her work.

In the absence of her memory Alrynn decided she’d have to simply ask.

“What happened to me?”

The woman looked up and met her gaze.

“You was stung by a Ciliad, love.” she said, “A scouting party found ya in the snow two weeks ago.”

At the naming of it, an image flashed in her mind, a great beast with clawed feet and a hooked tail. An angled reptilian head leering down at her. Gleaming silver eyes holding her in place as it struck out with its tail, letting loose a piercing shriek.

The older woman’s voice called her back.

“All done miss.” she cooed, “I’ll check up on ya this evenin’.”

“Thank you.” Alrynn mumbled, surprised to feel sweat beading on her forehead after the flash of memory.

The woman dabbed at her with a damp towel.

But as she went to leave, the door blasted open and three men stormed in, crowding at the end of her bed.

The woman shoed at them with Alrynn’s towel.

“Killian, she needs rest, give her some time to recover. Have ya no decency?”

The man, Killian, flinched at the towel being brandished at him.

“This won’t take long, Gralie.”

“Five minutes.” Gralie stated firmly, offering no room for negotiation. “And no longer.” She bundled up her apron and hustled from the room, muttering darkly to herself. His company watched her go, but Killian’s eyes stayed fixed on Alrynn.

It was then that she recognised him, the insignia man from the cell. His broad shoulders were wrapped in furs and a leather vest that hugged tight around his arms and torso. A chocolate mass of messy waves framed his face, contrasting with a firmly set square jaw. His honey-brown eyes inspected every inch of her in a military fashion.

“Who are you?” he asked.

Alrynn met his stare, a new confidence growing now that the fog had cleared.

“I could ask the same.” she shot back, trying to keep her voice even.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her defiance. He glanced back at his company with a grin and rested an arm on her bedframe.

“There are plenty of holding cells available, very similar to the one we met in last week if you would rather do this there,” he offered unpleasantly. She stiffened.

“So, I’ll ask you again. Who are you?”

Sweat broke on her neck and she paused, looking instead at the ointments next to her head “My name is Alrynn. That’s all I can remember.”

Killian gazed at here for a long, uncomfortable moment. “You know,” he said eventually, “I don’t believe you.”

He nodded at the man on his right who then held up a tunic with dark emblem sewn to its breast.

“Explain this.” Killian demanded.

Alrynn looked at it, puzzled. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“Interesting. This was the tunic you wore when you were found.”

“I don’t recognise it.” she said, truthfully.

“Look. Closer.”

The man holding the tunic advanced to her bedside and shoved it in front of her face. She tried to squirm away, but the straps held her in place. Her wound tore again at the jolt of movement. She glared at the leering face above her then looked properly at the emblem. It pictured two raging beasts locked in combat, a jagged crown between them.

“I don’t recognise it.” she repeated through gritted teeth.

“Tell me what you know of Keir.” Killian said, disregarding her completely.

“What?”

“Keir! Tell me what you know of him!”

“I. Don’t. Know. Who. That. Is. I’ve never heard of anyone called that” she ground out, frustrated. She strained her mind, trying to remember anything at all. But once again nothing came.

Killian’s brows furrowed, he looked her dead in the eye, confused.

“You really don’t know do you?”

“No, I don’t.” she replied, meeting his stare once more.

Killian gave her another long hard stare, searching her face. She stared right back. She had nothing to hide, she had absolutely nothing at all. He nodded, turned on his heel and marched from the room, not bothering with pleasantries. His two companions followed close behind leaving Alrynn in her own company, trying to find a comfortable position.

The next days were a blur, Gralie came and went every few hours and a few others came to question her, receiving much the same results as Killian. Most of her time was filled with insufferable boredom and the constant throbbing of her abdomen. Until some days later a deep, husky voice woke her from her dozing.

“So, you are the mysterious Alrynn.”

Her eyes cracked open, squinting against the glare of the morning sun.

“Yes.” She nodded, taking in a large powerful man, with flecks of grey streaking his beard.

“My name is Bron. I am the commander of Gayle. It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”

She was taken aback. It was the first time anyone had bothered to formally introduce themselves

“I must apologise, I hear you have already met my nephew, Killian.” He dusted off his jacket.

Oh, she thought, it made sense that the young man’s arrogance would come from his title.

“I imagine you have a great deal of questions,” Bron continued, “however, as your arrival here has created quite the controversy, there are only so many questions I can answer. I hope you can understand.” With that he folded his hands behind him and waited for her expectantly.

She eyed him cautiously, “Where is here?”

Bron walked to the window and gazed out.

“This is the Valley of Gayle.” He told her.

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“Few have,” he countered, “It’s a well-guarded secret, unless you know what you’re looking for you’ll fly right over it.”

“Fly?” she questioned.

He said nothing further. Perhaps that was not a good line to pursue. Yet, anyway.

The silence grew uncomfortable, and she shifted her wrists in her bounds, trying to find relief against the angry, red rub that was forming.

She tried a new approach. “Why am I tied down? Given by the size and fitness of your people I doubt I’d be a threat to anyone.”

“On the contrary,” he turned to face her again, “we have no idea what you are.”

She stopped, incredulous. “How do you mean?”

“That emblem you wore when our scouts found you. Do you know what that is?”

“On that tunic I don’t remember wearing? No. I have no idea. But if you can tell me something about it, about me, I’d really like to know.”

“That emblem.” Brom began, “is the crest of a very powerful warlock.”

Alrynn stared at him blankly.

“You are positive that none of this is familiar?” he paused, meeting her eyes.

She nodded, earnestly.

He sighed, nodding his head. “The warlock’s name was Keir. He and a band of followers rebelled against the Kingdom of Raevern, our people, almost four hundred years ago. The Kingdom’s forces fought bravely, but it was an impossible battle. They never stood a chance against such powerful magicians. Then when almost all hope was lost, the King’s son unleashed a new weapon neither side had counted on. The cost was terrible, casualties were great for both sides, so great that many in Raevern wished he had never taken such drastic action. But ultimately, he prevailed, and the warlocks fell, Keir among them.”

Bron crossed the floor back to Alrynn’s bed.

“Which is why you, Alrynn, are so interesting.”

She raised her eyebrows.

Bron continued, “There have been no accounts of Keir or his followers since the war. Centuries of nothing. That is, until we found you.”

He pointed to the tunic folded neatly at the foot of her bed.

“Your arrival wearing Keir’s sign has upset a lot of people. Many here believe we should have killed you on sight. Others seem to think you might be an asset to us. Most don’t know where they stand.”

“Why would they want to kill me?” she demanded, spikes of fear rising in her voice.

“Keir loved to push the limits, of the laws of the land and in magical experimentation. He liked to create new… things. So you could be very dangerous, despite how ordinary you seem to appear. There is just too much we don’t know about you.” He clasped his hands in front of him. “We have just concluded a council meeting to determine your fate.”

Alrynn stared at him. How could this be real? She wasn’t dangerous, she was a badly injured young woman. But before she could reason with Bron, she heard multiple sets of footsteps marching down the hall and four burly men burst through the door, long swords at their hips. Sweat broke out across Alrynn’s forehead.

“Wait! Bron! I’m sorry I don’t understand everything, but I’m sure I’ll remember soon. I’m not a danger to anyone!” she stammered; her voice panicked.

He said nothing, just watched as the guards untied her bonds, hauled her from the bed and set her roughly on her feet.

“Let go of me!” she shrieked, trying to shake them off.

A man stood on either side of her, hooking a beefy fist under her arms and half dragging her from the room. She thrashed against them but were more than double her size and she was vastly outnumbered. They marched her through a labyrinth of corridors and stairs until she was thoroughly dizzy and lost. Just as her feet were about to give out, they stopped outside a large, arched double door. Intricate carvings of intertwined winged serpents decorated its border.

They waited for a few seconds before Bron stepped forward and swung the great doors open, revealing a long table lined with people.

“Riders of Gayle.” He addressed the room, “I present to you,” he smiled grimly and gestured to her with both arms outstretched, “Alrynn.”

The room turned to stare at her, their faces set in stone.

Alrynn gulped, suddenly glad for the mountainous escorts that dwarfed her. She tried to shuffle behind one of them, but they held her firmly in place. Instead, she looked at the floor.

Her escorts walked her forward until she stood before the table, in full view of the onlookers.

“Alrynn.” Bron began. Moving to sit at the head oof the table.

She didn’t lift her eyes.

“The council has made a decision in regard to your future.”

Her stomach turned over violently, she was going to be sick.

“While the mystery of your origin and character is undoubtedly a potential threat, we would be fools to up an opportunity to better understand Keir’s twisted manipulations. For that reason, we will allow you to stay in the Valley of Gayle. Alive. At least until you prove yourself dangerous.” Bron stated clearly.

A cold claw loosened its grip slightly on Alrynn’s chest, and she breathed deeply.

She nodded to the table, unsure if she was supposed to speak or not. As she began to open her mouth to thank them, Bron cut her off.

“You will undergo some trials before you are able to participate in daily life here. After your tests you will be admitted into a training schedule and learn the art of a Gayle warrior. If you prove to be as human as we are, you will be allowed to stay on indefinitely, as one of us. If, however, you prove to be unstable or dangerous you will be disposed of immediately. Is that understood?”

“Yes” Alrynn replied quietly, eyes glued once more to the floor.

“You will be escorted to your new chambers presently. But first, you have your first assessment.”

Alrynn stared at him in disbelief. A test already? She could still barely stand unsupported. Bron shrugged, it seemed it was the best he was prepared to offer. He nodded to the guards, and they lead her back into the hallway.

Alrynn past many inquisitive faces, ranging from bustling maids to soldiers. All of them stared at her openly. she ducked her head, avoiding their hungry eyes.

One of her escorts grabbed too tightly at her still raw wrists and she winced, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. Finally, they halted outside a rickety old door with fire singed corners. One of the four raised a fist and knocked, rattling the door on its hinges. They stood in an uneasy silence before the door swung open on its own, revealing a cluttered cell. Flasks and jars containing odd substances lay in an organised disarray on benches and tables that had been shoved to the walls. Books levelled broken table legs while others sat open, scattered across the floor.

There, half concealed by a pile of junk, sat an old man sitting on a tatted pillow, hunched over a scroll.

One of the men cleared his throat pointedly and the man peered around to look at them. His face was sunken in, pulling tight over his cheek bones. He looked them all over one by one before withdrawing back into his corner.

“Your service is required warlock.” One grunted, his voice every bit as gruff as he was.

Alrynn puzzled, given what she’d heard this was the last place a warlock would reside.

Silence held for an agonisingly slow moment before the warlock drew a rasping breath.

“I will speak only to her.” He wheezed, knobbed finger at Alrynn.

Sweat broke out across her forehead.

“You will speak to all of us.” Gruff commanded, “can’t have you trying any tricks now.”

“Do you like my tricks?” rasped the warlock, humour behind his words.

Gruff said nothing.

Alrynn could feel the warlock grin.

“I will speak to only her.” He said again.

Out of nowhere a phantom wind came and pushed the four mountains from the room. The door closed behind them.

They banged on the door, but it didn’t budge.

“You will have her back in due time,” the warlock chuckled, “you needn’t worry your pretty little heads.”

Without the light from the doorway the room fell into near blackness. Alrynn backed herself against one of the few available places on the wall. She heard him clamber slowly to his feet, his eyes blinking as they turned to a glowing molten gold. Fabric scuffed on stone as he shuffled towards her, sunken eyes boring into hers. The distinct sound of a scraping chain dragged behind him.

“Alrynn, isn’t it.” He stated. Not a question.

“Yes.” She said in a small voice name.

“I am Thaddeus Barg.” He wheezed. The warlock stood at a mere four foot tall. He extended a rickety old hand out to her, mangled by a life of hardship, she shook it hesitantly.

“I will be examining you then I suppose?” he asked.

Alrynn just nodded, not sure if she should shrink away from his touch or try and make a friend out of him. Whoever he was, he was enough to worry her escorts.

“Very well then.” He said.

Thaddeus’s eyes glowed brighter. Before she could scream, she was lifted by an unseen force, her body lay suspended in mid-air. Alrynn panicked, breathing frantically as she tried to thrash but her limbs held fast.

“Struggle will do you no good, Alrynn.” Thaddeus explained, his voice even, “I am only conducting a quick inspection.” His voice trailed off as he opened both palms towards her. His eyes glowed brighter still.

Alrynn’s whole body tingled with a warm sensation, she felt the magic seeping into her. Thaddeus’s eyes closed in concentration, throwing the room into darkness once more.

A dark room with a single barred window flashed before her.

The leering face of a tall, slim man appeared, his eyes glowing.

She trashed against the claws of a burning dust.

Alrynn screamed and screamed. The noise built until it was unbearable.

Alrynn shot back to her body with a sharp gasp. Thaddeus was knocked back a few feet and his magic faltered. Alrynn crashed onto the hard stone floor with a cry as pain shot through her back.

Quick as lightning her escorts resumed their banging.

“Open the door warlock, or you’ll have hell to pay!” one of them demanded.

Thaddeus muttered quietly to himself, too low and strangled for her to hear.

“Warlock!” came another yell.

“You are an interesting one Alrynn.” Thaddeus crocked.

She staggered up from the floor, “Interesting?” Alrynn fretted, “Interesting how? What am I?”

“Human.” He answered simply, then added in a softer tone, “almost entirely.”

“Excuse me?” she choked out, her voice catching.

He flapped a shaky hand, shushing her.

“What do you mean almost?” she hissed, her skin growing hot.

“They can’t know.” Thaddeus pressed urgently, his eyes staring her down. “They cannot.”

“What am I Thaddeus?” Alrynn pleaded desperately.

Then, the door blasted open. Revealing the silhouettes of four fuming men.

“That was ample time for an assessment, warlock. Report your findings.” Gruff demanded, storming into the room. His tall physique towering over the warlock. To his credit, Thaddeus, did not seem dwarfed. His magic swirling around him like an asp poised to strike. A slight tremor that ran down Gruff’s back as the energy in the room intensified, crackling with tension.

“I will speak only to her.” Thaddeus said calmly, every word while rough, was pronounced with perfect clarity.

Gruff yielded a step.

The warlock looked to her.

“You are human, Alrynn, and you are stable.” He said, his eyes flaring.

“You’re sure…” one of the four challenged.

“Quite.” Thaddeus snapped bluntly, keeping his dimming eyes locked on hers. “We shall meet again soon Alrynn.”