The Heir's Lullaby

The sun shone brightest on the morning he was left behind. Far out from the town of Faranth, the last point of civilization before the Whispering Woods encompassed the rest of the region north of Solace Reach. A newly made mother desperate to bring her newborn child to safety. She had been running long before the morning sky appeared, fleeing up and over the mountain steeps that made up the Crisped Tips of legend. Her legs were weak, but her heart remained strong to deliver him as far from their pursuers as possible.

Chased in a steadfast pursuit by the rebels who had stolen everything away. It was easy to fall to her knees and plead to the gods she prayed to as a young girl. Never did she think this would have become of this life chosen for her. The one she grew to love more than anything in this world.

The Whispering Woods were named as such for their literal sense. The trees garnered a multiplicity of holes that trapped the flowing winds. To listen carefully would whisper the soft words of wondrous songs through. Never could they be understood by mortal beings for their songs were meant for another. Always another.

Hastening her time, using the trees grown out from the side hill to steady herself down to an insect chirping and frog trilling creak. The water crackling off from the small ledges of rock naturally formed to tiny waterfalls. The creak split off forming a skinny moat around a barrier of moss-covered rock ground and dirt. On this barrier were three towering stones that leaned on one another and an even grander brown oak tree that had fallen down over on top of them. The tree was still alive from its connection to its roots, hanging its mass of leaves over the stones.

She crossed over the creak and approached the three stones that were much taller than her. Walking around and admiring while keeping an eye out to the distance for anyone who may be watching.

In between the stones was a space to slip through and gather some peace. Hours of fleeing were thrown onto her greatly in this moment of breath. Sliding to the floor, her baby laid down into tightly crossed legs as she felt the burn from her feet. Her bare feet, slit and bleeding from tracking across the rough forested land of the Greenward. Touching gently, a shocking pain shot up her leg which caused her to jerk with the motion. This unfortunately woke her sleeping child who was oblivious to the current predicament they now faced together.

With quick breaths to calm herself from her own pain. She reached down and lifted her swaddled in cloth baby boy close to her.

“There, there. Nothing to cry about. Momma is here. She will always be here whether near or far.”

The child grew restless, squirming for more comfort. His face twisted into a fit of crying.

“Shh, shh, shh. Do not cry. Everything will be just fine. The bad ones will go away, and we will be safe.” She cradled and shook him in her arms while humming a soft tone.

The child became silent and still as stone. A peaceful sleep he had succumbed to from the soothing wordless lullaby of his mother. One she would sing in repeated verses not only for his peace, but also for her own. A heavenly hum from the ancient Venizial language of sound. The boy’s grandmother would sing it every night to him, even before his birth two weeks prior. His mother would lay back in bed while his grandmother’s hand pressed onto her warm belly as the song traveled through in a language she had no knowledge of yet. She would learn it for curiosity and for her son who would one day need to know the powerful language of his people.

That day seemed far off to never be as of now.

The jarring roars of man and beast called from the distance to shock her from the serenity of nostalgic thought. Holding him tightly pressed, she peered out between the stones where their pursuers grew louder as the distance between them shortened.

A choice needed to be made, one of regret and sorrow. She would be caught no matter how far she ran. For these rebels, she was the prize catch. They would be rid of a helpless child without a thought of care. For her, the choice was simple yet the hardest she had ever had to make in her life.

Her motherhood heart pained greatly as she laid her son comfortably onto some pulled leaves from the tree above. Tears dripped from her plumped reddened cheeks onto the white cloth. Rubbing his rosy pale skin, feeling once more his little nose, the brown tuft of hair on his head that was present even at birth, and his dark eyes shared from hers. Two big black mirrors that she could see herself within. Her face filled with a wide smile and a chest full of thunderous beats. She cradled him to herself one last time before letting go. A choice to save him from the pain she would endure.

“We may be broken now, but once more shall our heart be repaired. In the next world, we will all be together again.”

She slipped away and up from the creak, screaming to the tip of her voice and waited for the sign to lead them away. The shouts of the traitors chasing along with the growls and barks of the beasts gave her the needed assurance to flee and guide them away from her son.

Alone he would be left. All alone in the world.

The boy cried once an hour came by, seemingly knowing that he was alone as the sun peaked higher in the sky to shine over him. A gleam of light directed through the hole of the pointed-up stones from the above stacked treetops to make a stage for him in this hideout.

His cries swelled as time elapsed, cracking his voice and constraining him to plead more for the comfort he so deserved. So loud that the attention of nearby critters was drawn to the wailing. Squirrels, rabbits, foxes, and the larger wolves who could also smell the little boy and froth at the mouth by such savor. Their growling vibrated the air, scaring away the curious woodland creatures as the three paired grey wolves bounded down to the barrier of stone. One approached close, diligently slipping its head through the squat opening between the stones and eyeing the boy laying there whose cries whimpered less as the growling vibrated in his ears. For what he could not know was that these beasts had no intention of bringing him comfort. For they were hungry.

With a brisk retreat back out from the hole and a symphony of fearful squeals, the wolves fled from the barrier with haste. As from above, the wind picked up gracefully over the treetops. The leaves fluttered rapidly and many of them tore from the branches to rain down to the forested floor below. Thunderous flapping roared from the bright sky as a large, shadowed creature blocked out the sun’s light behind it.

The dragon descended, parting the tree line by his humongous golden scaled body, landing firmly down into the creak on all fours. He pushed over many nearby trees to get comfortable in the space made too small for him. Lowering his pyknic snout down to the ground, sniffing heavily as the gusts of breath from his curved nostrils bursted the dried dirt and disheveled leaves all around. His large, clawed feet pressed heavy with each step toward the stones which proved insignificant in size compared to the colossal dragon. Sticking his head up high, flapping his iridescent teal wings to help himself onto his hind legs, he stood over the stones and pushed the large oak out of the way to peer inside. To his surprise, a human baby boy laid between. Face red from the irritation of cries, and his eyes as dark as the unlit shadows. The dragon was ever curious as the many other forest creatures, but not as hungry as the wolves were before him.

Dragons were not as dangerous now as the legends made them out to be. Hundreds of years of evolution from their fire-raging ancestors made them affable and a welcomed sight if you were to ever come by one. This however, had a variation on region. They were a rare sight in Mana, even rarer in the region of Greenward for their presence had a shock on the locals due to the incredibly one-sided view of their monstrous looks. The wild was a better place to find them, living away from those who would rather hunt them. Not open to attack, a disturbed or frightened dragon could do a ten-fold amount of damage to small towns. Even without the power of fire on their side.

Pulling down one of the stones to get a better look, the dragon cracked the surface of the fallen stone by stepping forcibly onto it. Reaching its snout to touch along the tiny human, its warm breath made the child sound with groans and whimpers. Looking at the face of the boy, his black irises shrunk and formed to the shape of sharpened black slits. The whites of them flowed to a deep crimson. The dragon’s and the boy’s eyes were one in the same. This caused the golden creature to stumble back away from the boy and brush off a strange feeling that encompassed his mind.

When the dragon came to his senses, the boy started to cry once more. The dragon returned to admire him, widening the sharpness of his eyes to a calming state. In his front hands, the dragon picked up the baby boy and flew off into the air. Flying out over the Whispering Woods, taking him far from the dangers and leaving the past in wake.

Hours passed soaring out from the borders of the Greenward. Over the towns, the cities, the lakes, the rivers, and the mountains that made up the vast colorful land. Eventually even over the clouds themselves. The boy was clasped gently but firm within the sinewy hands of the dragon who took great care in handling the babe. High above into the heavens, the wind brushed through the dragon’s white-haired mane with the sun's light sparkling off of his magical body. Gliding along and carrying this boy on an adventure of a lifetime. A place no child this age had ever been before. Why him? What was so special about this baby boy who could not live up to anything as of yet?

The dragon ducked below the clouds, gliding back down towards the ground. Coming into view through the fading fluff, was the glowing yellow and green fields of the farmlands even further north in the region of Rimfall. This was the largest farming venture where all the livestock and fresh commodities were produced for this side of Mana. Soaring over the hills of grass, stretching his wings out wide for all to witness traveling on the many roads directing towards the towns and for those working tirelessly on the fields. Children shouted and many cheered as a dragon was at least a welcomed sight for most in this region.

On a farm not too far now from the dragon’s reach, Edmund May, a middle-aged farmer tended to the field. Breaking off the stalks and pulling the corn, placing them into the high stacked baskets at his side. Sweat poured from his forehead and dripped down into his eyes. He wiped aggressively, feeling an annoyance that was building up over time. Edmund stared down the winding lanes of corn stalks, hoping to see the familiar visage fly over the horizon. It was getting late, and he was worried sick.

“Edmund!” a woman’s shrill came over from the manifold of cottages behind him. “It is Brohrin! He has returned!”

Edmund stood up and with a pace ran over from the field to meet his wife, Marli, by the front of their quaint home. Hearing his roar, the golden dragon came to a stop over the cottages, flapping a furious wind onto the couple. Landing down on the grass, Brohrin curled his wings over his body to hide away. Ducking his head down in fear of the man who came bounding across the open land to him. Edmund was pressed with anger, showing the dragon all his disappointment with his booming voice and his waving hands.

“Do you have any idea how late it is? We were worried terribly that something might have happened,” Edmund spoke with frustration leading along. “You have never been gone this long before. You were told of the dangers it possessed to do so.”

Marli came up beside Edmund, holding onto his shoulder to calm him. “He is here now. It is alright.”

“It is not alright,” said Edmund sharply. “With his color and mane, hunters would do anything to get a hold of him. You cannot be flaunting about the countryside for all to see!”

Brohrin curled deeper, relieving small whimpers and widening his eyes up to Edmund.

“No, no, no. Those eyes will not work this time, boy. You need to know right from wrong. It will very well save your life to know such.”

Marli stepped around Edmund and approached Brohrin. She rubbed her hands along his leathery wings as he groaned to move into her touch. “Look at him. He is safe, not even a scratch. There is no need to harp on him for wanting to explore what is only natural for him.”

“What is natural for him is not natural for everyone else. Not anymore. We may know his true intentions, but others do not. They would rather see his head on a mantle than admire him from afar. I will not condemn him to such horrors as have been told.”

Wails blaring into short sobs were heard from beneath Brohrin. At first, they thought the dragon had made sounds that were abnormal for his kind. As Marli observed closer and raised up Brohrin’s wing, they could see beneath he had something clasped within his hands.

“What is that? What do you have?” Edmund asked, peering closer to understand.

Marli reached in, but Brohrin slid his hands further back to hide what he had found.

“Brohrin, let us see,” Marli ordered, reaching again.

Brohrin groaned once more, pulling his hands forward to open them. Within his grasp, they would see a baby boy wrapped in slightly soiled white cloth.

Confused and worried of how their beloved Brohrin got a hold of a child. Immediately, Edmund backed away and paced in manic thought.

“A child! He stole a child! My god, I wonder if he was seen?”

Marli removed the cloth covering over the boy’s eyes and made notice of something eerie. His eyes had the tinge of blood with the sharpened glare of a dragon. Shocked by this, she jumped away and quickly looked once more to see they had shifted to black normalcy.

Gazing up to Brohrin, he regarded her with similar eyes and reassurance. In his face she could see the care the dragon had for the boy.

“Edmund, let us take him inside. Who knows what he has been through.” Marli picked the child from Brohrin’s hand, holding him tight in her arms. “We shall care for him tonight.”

“What? No. We cannot. If it is found out we have a stolen child in our home, the punishment shall be severe.”

“Not if we care for him properly. Tomorrow we shall go into town and speak with Merigold.” Marli rocked the child between her arms and stepped toward their home. “Perhaps she could be of some help in knowing if the child is lost and who the parents may be.”

“Right. Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am sure. Now, I will deal with this child, and you will deal with that one.”

Marli entered their small, stone leveled and wood paneled home while Edmund was left to deal with guiding the energetic Brohrin back to his hidden mound over the corn fields.

***

The village of Hillside was a tight neighborhood befitted with densely structured homes and businesses to meet the standards of the country-folk. Placed at the top of a hill, winding roads arched up to the gated main entrance. A gate that never closed and was opened to all. This was one of the three major trading hubs that surrounded the farmlands in Rimfall.

Marli and Edmund May were prominent traders here for their vast corn stock. Having one of the largest plots of land, waves and calls from passersby proved to be quite anxiety filling for Edmund as they trailed through the marketplace.

“This is a mistake,” Edmund whispered through the corner of his mouth. He trailed behind and anxiously scoured around, waving precariously to friendly faces.

“Will you relax,” hissed Marli. “No one is watching us with intensity, and no one knows who he is.”

“They know who we are. And that is enough for people to take notice of. What if they ask us why we have a child when we had never shared before that you were with one?”

“I will say that it is my nephew— my sister’s boy.”

“Right.” Edmund shifted to confusion. “Wait, you do not have a sister.”

“They do not know that. Relax, my love. Everything will be fine.”

They approached Merigold’s shop which was lower down on the hill between a skinny alleyway marked by a dirt path through. The only other doorway in this alley was a side entrance to a local nip and night inn. A well tittered man stumbled out of this door to throw up his guts.

They stopped hurriedly, waiting for the man to hobble back inside after a nasty relieving of gunked spit.

Marli moved quickly to the door but was pulled back by Edmund before entering.

“Marli, I know what this means for you. If you think this is the answer that you seek, the one that she proposed to you, I would not be so quick to think so. He is not bred of us. He came from somewhere else. Somewhere far from here. Just look at him to see such. Whether it is on me or you for the reasons we cannot have our own, it is not right to take such from another. Understand that please. And understand that I am sorry for it all.”

Marli’s eyes warmed behind and a tepid expression as she raised her hand to her husband's scruffy beard. “I know. I am sorry too.”

The door creaked open, the squeal still residing in the mind after closing. The shop had no room to walk in for how deep it was. The floor was covered in tapestry and over the top of it were baskets, boxes, and displaced trinkets littered about. Shelves stacked high along the walls with disordered glasses of strange glowing liquids. From first glance, the person who operated here must harbor every single thing they had possessed and displayed it for all to see. And that is exactly what Merigold had done.

The Mays had visited her shop more often than they liked. And every time after leaving, they would need a good washing. They knew their way forward to the desk that was covered just as much as the rest of the one roomed shop. The baby boy squirmed in Marli’s arms as the air in the shop was barely breathable, and there were no windows to allow light to gleam through. The only offering of light had come from behind a curtain in the farthest corner beyond the desk. A rhapsodizing hum had also come from behind this curtain.

With a clear of Edmund’s throat, the humming ceased, and the light dimmed away. Two dark hands slid through between the curtains and were ripped to the sides. Peeking her head out, curiosity changed to a gracious smile.

“Ooh. Welcome back, my friends,” Merigold said, pulling the curved pipe from between her brown lips. “How have we fared?”

Merigold, the witch doctor, was a riveting display of character. Tipping her tinted and gold rimmed glasses down to see who had entered her shop. She walked as if the floor moved out from beneath her in fitted purple trousers with white lines going vertically down from the waist. She wore a purple buttoned coat with the sleeves cut away and a long blue undershirt beneath that was torn along her forearms. Her hair, let go to roll down her shoulders, was puffed up and swayed as she moved by her desk.

She planted firmly into the red upholstered seat, lounging over the armrest and spinning her legs up on the desk. Various assortments crashed off to the floor as her legs made ample room on top. Peaking over her glasses and blowing the smoke from her pipe out through her nose, Merigold had gathered quickly why the Mays had come to her shop this day. A reason in the same vein to the other reasons why they had come. Why many are induced to visit her, for Merigold’s skills outweighed any normal practitioner in the region.

“Busy we have been? Cooked up a fast one since the months you have been to my door. Usually, the herbs take their time in the system before breaking any real ground.” Merigold’s teeth clacked onto the end of her pipe, sucking deep and blowing out the smoke through her ramblings. “And those who call me the foolish old hag on the hill who is nothing but a swindler. I say bully to them. Look at me, I have not aged a day since my restitution.”

Merigold was giddy with the thought of belief in herself. Of the knowledge that she truly knew what she was doing. To her unfortunate change of demeanor, Edmund had revealed the truth to her.

“No, this is not a product of your ghastly herbs. This child was delivered to us by Brohrin— stolen by Brohrin. We know not where from or who he belongs to, but we are here to find out. Because he is not of us.”

Merigold's face sunk in disappointment as her body straightened up in the chair. “Oh, I see. Well, what do you need from me exactly then? If my skills are not serviceable to your satisfaction that you see fit to squander with a child to make your own, how do you think I would fare in helping you now?”

“What?” Marli asked sharply. “Heavens no. We did not steal the child on purpose, Ms. Merigold. Brohrin returned home with the boy in his hands. He seemed awfully attached to the child, wanting to protect him even from us to a point.”

Merigold leaned over the desk, pointing out the back end of her pipe to each of them. “Your dragon, he just flew back with a baby in his hands? Now that is interesting, very much so.”

“Why is that?” Edmund questioned with a fold of his thick haired arms.

“Hmm.” Merigold dropped her pipe from her hands onto the desk and leaned closer to them with a smile. “May I hold him for a moment?”

Marli moved forward to give the boy over to the witch doctor. However, her arm was halted by the firm grasp of Edmund holding her back. “Hold on, Marli. We do not know her intentions. She may bring on more harm than any good. After all, her herbs did not serve the purpose they were meant for.”

Merigold chuckled through her closed smile. “Ironic enough, you do have a child in your possession. Perhaps they worked well enough.”

Marli reassured her husband, looking up to meet his conflicted gaze. “It is fine, Edmund. This is why we are here.”

As he let go, Marli lowered the child into Merigold’s arms. She would make strange noises to entrance the child and stood up from her chair. Looking at Edmund, she asked, “Big man, mind cleaning the table for me?”

Edmund looked to his wife and with a roll of his eyes, followed by a deep sigh, he swiped the desk clean of all that was layered on top. The metal and wood novelties hit the floor with a continuous clank and thud. Merigold then laid the child onto the desk and hopped back into the recesses of the room. Many intricate objects flew around as she searched frantically for something in particular. Bringing forth a small leatherbound chest, she placed it beside the child on the desk and seemed to just remember that it was locked. A shiny silver lock, much brighter than anything of prominence in the shop. She looked around, rubbing the back of her neck in a wondering manner.

“Oh yes,” said Merigold, glancing off the side of the desk. She looked to Edmund once more. “Do you mind handing me my pipe you so rudely knocked off?”

Edmund’s forehead scrunched. “What? You told me to.”

“Edmund, please just get it!” Marli was quick to order.

With a slump forward, Edmund reached down through the mess of trinkets and pulled out the pipe. Handing it over to Merigold, she nodded, and immediately as it touched her hand, the pipe straightened to a long pointed black stick. She aimed the point down to the lock, and from the point shot a bolt of green light that had undone the silver latch.

“This is witchcraft,” Edmund stuttered.

Merigold peered up to witness their shocked looks. “Is that not why you come to me? Why you all do? If normal ailments could be solved with normal remedies, why do people still fall ill? If this was not natural, why would we be allowed to live alongside it?”

The Mays looked to each other for reassurance. Marli nodded for Merigold to continue opening the chest. She pulled out a bluebird’s feather, an hourglass, a marking tool, and an intricate knife with a red glass handle.

With a short gasp, Merigold reached into the box and carried out of it a spindly legged spider. “Mr. Needle, how did you get in there?”

Edmund backed away, tripping over and knocking down a stack of trinkets behind him.

Merigold looked past the spider in her hands. “Bit squeamish?” She let the spider run off from the desk as it vanished into the shadows. “Now for these configurations of determining lineage to work, there has to be a sufficient source to determine such. Lucky for us, this child is filled with such a source.” She ripped the knife from the table and stroked along its shined iron blade.

“Wait! No, you will not harm this child!” Edmund stepped forward proudly.

“All that is needed is a drop. So much can be learned from so little,” Merigold stated and reached down to open the cloth wrapping around the boy.

“Wait!” Marli shouted to freeze the room. “Let me do it.”

Merigold shrugged, spinning the glass handled end of the knife to face Marli. Grabbing hold, Marli gently pressed the blade’s tiniest point to the tiniest finger of the baby. He cried out from the pain as Merigold pulled the knife from Marli’s grasp and shoved the point into her mouth, cleaning the blood off of the tip. Marli began shushing the child and leaning closer to comfort him by rubbing his fragile body under her palms.

After a moment of nothing occurring, filled only by the overwhelming loud cries of the child, Merigold started to shake her head. “Oh my. This… is… oh my.”

Merigold fell back into her chair, curling up her legs to her chest. She took heavy breaths until sucking a bountiful amount of air and leaning her head back. Launching it with her body forward, she pressed against the desk with eyes darkened too pure black. “Ask all that you want.”

They were hesitant, but Marli questioned first. “He must be here for a reason. Why would a dragon have a need for a child?”

“Because he called for the beast. It is only he who can.”

“What?” Marli stood up from kneeling beside the child.

“This boy has the touch of another life in him. One that should have been explored, but rather was stolen away. Ripped out beneath him like a pulled rug beneath the feet. There is also something deeper, something less pronounced, however equally powerful to his birthright all the same.” Merigold swayed her head back and forth, holding herself up by the edge of the desk.

“The parents— what about the parents?” Edmund asked.

“I cannot give the parents any attention. For now, this boy is where he belongs. And soon, he will belong to many more.”

A rough, piercing gasp had returned Merigold from where she traveled to. She stumbled back into her chair once more, slumping deep into its cushioned bowels.

“Is that all? That is all you have for us?” Edmund shouted.

“It is all you need, for now. The boy is yours. Raise him, forge him, send him away when the time comes. That is fate’s hand at work. And what a creation it has made.” Merigold slipped up from her chair and yanked her wand off from the desk. “Now leave, I need to rest.” She stumbled back into the dark and pulled the curtains closed behind her.

The Mays had a choice to make now. It always came down to a choice made harder by the pulls of the heart. Choices that began this story which set the tides of fate into motion.