The Continuing Adventures of Draco Moonbeam

The room in the back of the rectory was small and very spartan. It was barely large enough to fit a small cot, a desk, and a small table. There was an oil lamp and a small glass window for illumination and pegs on the wall near the door for clothing and vestments. The small square window had basic curtains for privacy.

Brother Wenton explained that it used to house an acolyte, a young prospective priest. However, that young man had long since moved on to the larger city of Voridia, seeking a more prosperous position as a priest to a much more affluent congregation.

Draco unloaded his pack and decided to make himself comfortable. His belongings went on the desk. He tested the bed and found it slightly more comfortable than the ground he had become accustomed to during his travels, but not by much. The wooden frame poked through the poor aged cushion that served as a mattress. But yet it was a mattress and it was supported by the frame to be off the floor.

Draco was grateful to have a small place that came with the promise of protection. Although, to be sure, he placed a warding spell on the window to prevent anyone from breaking in without suffering a great deal of pain. He decided to place a similar spell on the door once he went to sleep.

Brother Wenton brought him a bowl of beef stew with a pitcher of water for dinner. Draco remembered Anda’s stew with a grimace as he thanked the priest. But he was gracious enough to accept the meager meal without a word of complaint.

After dinner, Draco decided to sleep. Twenty minutes of Aeridian poetry had made his eyes heavy enough to give up for the night.

Sleep came relatively easy. Soon he was dreaming quite vividly about his teen days back on Earth, when he and his friend Darkstar battled an undead overlord who had designs of conquering numerous human cities with an army of ex-Soviet soldiers. Somehow that dream blended together with a fight the two of them engaged in as they manned gun turrets against enemy fighter starships while they were crewmen on an Andromedan intergalactic ship called the New Argo. And that in turn melded into a time when the two of them were captured by a troll army on a world called Krynn. The troll army was beginning to overrun the human surface dwellers, but were repulsed, and a truce of peace and understanding between the human cities and the trolls was achieved through their efforts. All that had occurred before Draco had even celebrated his twentieth birthday.

And as he dreamed of traversing tunnels far underground as a prisoner at the point of a troll spear, he heard a noise that made him wonder if he was still dreaming or was awake.

There was a movement of some animal outside his room, in the open air outside the rectory. Draco was fully awake and aware as that sound approached his window. He laid still, pretending to be asleep still, waiting for something to happen.

Suddenly there was a loud bang and a flash of light, as whatever it was apparently attempted to meddle with his window and set off the protective spell. He immediately heard the barking of several dogs and the whining of one injured dog.

Draco jumped up and ran to the window to see six large wolves running away, one of them with a noticeable limp. Miraculously, the glass was still intact.

He cursed under his breath as he realized that his previous attackers had discovered his current whereabouts. His safety in the rectory was no longer assured.

He flung open the door to his room and hurried to Brother Wenton’s room. He knocked, but from the sounds inside, it was clear that the priest had been awakened by the blast.

The door opened, and Brother Wenton stood there in his bed clothes.

“You’re ok?” asked Draco.

The old man nodded. “What happened?”

“Apparently my visitors from the other night have found me here. They poked around my window until they set off a small trap that I placed there.” Draco paused. “You can go back to sleep and I’ll keep watch.”

The priest declined, shaking his head. “Sleep isn’t possible now. But thanks. I’ll stay awake now. If you need me, I’ll be busy in prayer.”

“Ok. Keep your door open and pray out loud, so I can hear you. That way I’ll know you’re ok.”

Brother Wenton acquiesced and returned inside his room. He left the door open.

Draco returned to his room also. He replaced the ward, the protective spell, on his window. He also quietly slipped outside and put a similar spell on Brother Wenton’s window, and lit up the inside of the main entrance with the lanterns there.

He didn’t relish the idea of being watched. But instead of remaining in a darkened room to prevent snooping, Draco cast a mirror spell on the window. It turned the outer portion of the glass into a mirror, allowing him to see out, but preventing anyone from seeing in. It was only useful on glass which unfortunately prevented certain possible creative applications to confuse an enemy.

He returned to his room. To pass the time, he decided to study. Potions, their ingredients, and their proper creation. The book was written quite well. Not only did it describe the desired effects but also humorously warned of possible side effects.

“The proper use of a longevity potion is to increase the expected lifetime of the imbiber and to reduce the effects of aging on his physical form. Improper ingredients may lead to restoration of a youthful mind, which could lead to a perceived loss of wisdom and intellect, especially if one returns to pre-pubescent years. Furthermore, this potion does not work to extend the length of the imbiber’s body parts, even when applied topically.”

Hilarious. At least the comedic parts kept him awake.

The hours passed slowly. Draco fought to stay awake to avoid any possible ambush. As the light of dawn reached him, his mind became refreshed, and staying awake was no longer an issue.

As the day went on, Draco decided to stay within the church as much as possible. Somehow those wolves had found him, and he didn’t know how. It was reasonable that they tracked him to High Church, perhaps even to the inn. But how did they know he was in the rectory? It just didn’t make sense to him. And being outdoors would only invite further observation of his whereabouts, an unappealing prospect.

Brother Wenton kept him company throughout the day, even providing him some food.

As evening approached, Draco felt some uneasiness about the upcoming birthday celebration for Lady Vara.

The uncertainty about the wolves and the unexplained disappearances of children made him wonder if those two things were somehow related. Could the wolves be taking the children? Certainly these wolves were displaying a remarkable amount of intelligence. Perhaps that explained the lack of evidence after the fact.

About an hour after sunset, Brother Wenton, with Draco at his side, went to the large Manor set on a different hilltop from the church, slightly higher in elevation. Not truly a palace, it was more modest than what a governor might have. Two towers, one at each end of the stone building, overlooked a walled courtyard with a large wrought iron gate at the entrance. It wasn’t a fortress, but it could defend itself from a small number of attackers.

Brother Wenton approached the guard at the gate who warily looked at Draco.

“He’s with me. I am allowed one guest,” explained the priest.

The guard nodded, then stood aside to let them enter.

Once Draco was inside the front double heavy oaken doors, he could see the opulence of the mansion. He didn’t know if it normally looked like this or if it was more fully decorated for the occasion, but he suspected it was more of the former.

The entrance was a small foyer with paintings lining both walls. In the back the foyer led into a large room, a ballroom for the evening.

At the far end of the ballroom was a large oak table that extended from the rest of the room back into an apse with more than a dozen high backed chairs surrounding it, highlighted by two very ornate chairs at one end facing the rest of the room. The back of the apse had large windows that were covered with dark curtains. In the ballroom stained glass windows were set at regular intervals. Scenes depicted various night scenes in the dark blue glass. Between the windows were a number of richly dark tapestries. A large chandelier with many lit candles inside crystal brightly illuminated the room from the ceiling.

There were already a number of guests, but the Lord and Lady weren’t among them.

Hors d’oeuvres consisted of venison and steak bits and an assortment of cheeses. A dark red wine was served in beautiful crystal goblets.

Brother Wenton spoke to various people there, some prominent merchants, a wealthy landowner with his wife, among others whom the priest counted among his regular congregants. Draco stayed nearby, but was rather uninterested in the social formalities of the greetings.

After some time, a butler announced that dinner was soon to be served and that certain guests were invited to sit at the table in their assigned seats.

Brother Wenton took Draco to one end of the table, away from the seats of honor. They sat as waiters brought drinks to the table.

As they waited for the waiters to finish, Lord Morlys entered the room from a corridor near the apse with the beautiful Lady Vara on his left arm. Immediately all conversations ceased, the guests all stood up from their seats, and all bowed gently to the Lord and Lady. Draco did likewise.

Lord Morlys sat at the far end of the table in the seat with the highest back, and Lady Vara sat next to him in a similar chair.

“Please be seated,” announced the Lord in a smooth baritone. “You are my guests tonight to celebrate my lovely wife’s birthday. Make yourselves comfortable, please.”

The guests at the table took their seats while those who weren’t fortunate to have seats returned to their conversations.

A small quartet of musicians played their string instruments quietly, setting a cheerful atmosphere.

Lord Morlys had a very interesting appearance. His pale skin contrasted sharply with his jet black straight hair which fell above his forehead. Blue piercing eyes shone like night stars on a moonless night. He was relatively thin, of medium height. There was nothing physically about him that would make him an intimidating figure, but his steady clear voice displayed his self assurance and confidence among his townsfolk. He was dressed in a rich red and black robe over a white silk shirt with high collars. His age wasn’t readily discerned. He was middle aged, most likely, but whether on the younger or older end of the range was impossible to ascertain.

Lady Vara was striking in her beauty and poise. She was dressed in a long sleeved flowing green dress that clung to her features and accentuated her thin build. Her light brown hair and gray eyes seemed to match her calm and gentle nature. Her voice was a melodic soprano that was charming just to listen to. She was definitely younger than Lord Morlys, probably about 25-30 years old. However, her actual age wasn’t revealed. Lord Morlys only said that he “wouldn’t divulge her secrets.”

The talk at the table was mostly pleasantries and light humor, typical of a dinner party. Some asked Draco as to his profession after learning that he was a guest of the priest. Draco stated that he was passing through town on his way to Pridda to handle some business affairs there. When pressed about the nature of his business, he only replied that he worked as a representative of local merchants in Cloudgate. Morlys and Vara paid little attention to him.

At one point a large man with thick black hair entered to speak to Lord Morlys. He had a heavy leather coat on that could have served as light armor. The man leaned over to whisper something to Morlys upon which Morlys glanced at Draco. It was then that Draco noticed that the man’s left ear was missing. The priest identified the man as Sheriff Pautch of the town guard.

Draco noticed that one young woman of approximately 15 years of age was seated next to the Lady. She seemed somewhat out of place, as if she lacked the serene grace of a daughter of such social status. Her long golden hair flowed over her shoulders and onto her long sleeved red gown topped by a scarlet scarf of wispy material. Brother Wenton whispered to Draco that the girl was Serapha Hunter, the daughter of a local family, upon whom Lady Vara bestowed great favor. Draco determined to talk to her at some point.

Dinner was charming and delightful. The food was exquisite. But eventually it came to an end. Yet the night was still young and none of the guests seemed tired. The musicians struck up a more lively tune in a crescendo of waltzes that bade the guests to the ballroom floor as couples.

Draco noticed that Serapha leaned on Lady Vara’s arm frequently in an affectionate manner.

After a couple of songs that warmed up the guests, Lord Morlys announced that there would be a special musical number for their enjoyment. The musicians stopped playing as Lord Morlys and Lady Vara stood and went over to the corner of the apse. Morlys sat at a pipe organ and Lady Vara seated herself at a harp.

The Lord began a series of deep sad chords with some lighter finger work at the top end. The Lady added an alternating series of runs on the harp mixed with gentle plucking of the strings in a happier counter melody to contrast his somber bass lines. The effect was a haunting piece that evoked both sadness and joy, a song to experience the wonderful highs and lows of mortality.

As they played, Serapha made her way into the guests assembled on the dance floor. Draco noticed immediately and followed her onto the floor and bowed before her to ask her to a dance. She graciously accepted the request.

Draco took her by the hands and they began to move to the music surrounded by the other guests who did the same. The other musicians joined in accompaniment and added their own strings to the Lady, yet deferring to her lead.

Draco introduced himself to the maiden. She responded with her name.

“You’re quite close to the Lady,” observed Draco.

“Yes,” replied the girl. “She’s been like a mother or a best friend. She is so generous! This is her dress I’m wearing.”

Draco and the girl danced a few minutes, before Draco pulled her right hand towards him. Acting upon a hunch, he gently slid up the sleeve a few inches as if to kiss her hand. It was then that Draco saw it there.

Two small holes in the girl’s wrist, hidden by the sleeve.

Draco, stunned to see his hunch was actually correct, quickly apologized for being so forward. He bade the girl a good night and left her on the floor.

He walked over to Brother Wenton in a feigning a yawn. He whispered to the priest that they needed to return to the church immediately. Brother Wenton seemed a little puzzled but followed Draco as they exited the party.

As they made their way down the hill away from the mansion and towards the church across town, Brother Wenton asked Draco what had happened.

Draco answered, “Things are a lot worse than you could imagine. I hope I’m wrong, but I very much doubt it. I’ll explain once we’re safe.”

He checked to make sure they weren’t being followed as they walked quickly towards the sanctuary of the church.