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Description
My stepfather was right.
The next evening I trudged through the door, and trying not to notice Brac’s curious expression, went straight to my chambers and fell onto the bed, asleep before my head even hit the pillow.
My day had been eventful, to say the least.

I had awoken before the sun, and to my great disdain, found Albert sitting at the dining table, In full conversation with Braccada.
Apparently I had “slept in”.
We had greeted each other courteously, and when we exited the front door, I saw two of the most magnificent mares I’d ever seen, tethered to the water trough.
One was purely black with white socks, mane and tail, and the other was a chestnut, with a snowy white mane, tail, and foretop. Albert introduced me to the horses with pride. They were both owned by Lord Fale, but were under our own care and personal use while we were in his service. Albert’s mare was Harini, the chestnut, and he introduced the black and white as Blaze. She was to be mine.
I had never ridden, and so was nervous in the saddle at first, and Blaze became skittish, aware of my uneasiness.

When we arrived at the gates of Fale Manor, somewhat half an hour after we had left the cottage, I was feeling quite comfortable in the saddle, and Blaze had calmed down considerably.
We were greeted at the large steel gates by two guards in matching armour.
They looked at our clothing and Albert bowed his head slowly at them in recognition. The guards nodded and slowly pulled the gates open.
The road that lead up to Fale Manor was packed dirt and not paved, as to -I assumed- not tire the horses that often rode it.
Fale Manor glistened like a pearl in the rising sun as we road closer.
The peach and yellow coloured rays of the morning light bounced off the three-storeys of Fale Manor, and I noticed that the exquisite building was not made of stone as most of the native Arranians preferred, but a beautiful white marble that was probably harvested in the South.
I was questioning Lord Fale’s heritage when we passed two large fountains on either side of the road.  The paved squares that the fountains were levelled on, thinned into pathways that lead to the Manor, and all around us, what wasn’t paved was fresh grass, with the morning dew clinging still to its supple green blades.

As we neared, Albert decided to give me a quick verbal tour of the outside of the grounds.
‘So,’ he said calmly, ‘What do you think so far?’
I did not know what to say, and told him as much.
He smiled the same smile I had first seen him give me, all those years ago. He hadn’t changed much; his hair was longer and tied at the nape of his neck with a strange broach, and he was taller than I remember, but apart from that, he was the same smiling auburn-haired man I had met in my youth.
‘Well, this is Fale Manor. We’ll be working here and living here for qui…’
‘We’re going to live here?!’ I asked surprised. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to move out yet, even if it was to live in such splendour as this.
‘Well you don’t have to, but it would be easier than coming and going everyday, and this way you’ll learn faster, living around the environment. I’ve been staying here since I was your age,…and I adore it still.’ He whispered, looking around the large grounds of Fale Manor.
I nodded grimly. I wondered what Brac would say.
‘Like I was saying,’ Albert continued, ‘The West and East of the Manor are lined with statues, and most of them are the previous Lord Fales…..’ he pointed out, nodding at the right and left of the Manor, where I could just see a pathway snaking around its sharp, shining corners.
Albert smiled. ‘You see where the Manor is longer in the wings, and is deeper in the entrance?’
I nodded serenely.
‘Well it’s like that on both sides, so if you were to look at it from above, it would look like a giant marble ‘H’.’
I smiled at that notion, and gazed over the grounds. There was nobody about, which wasn’t surprising, considering the early hour.
We neared the dip of the ‘H’ and I noticed that oak trees had been planted in rows down either inner-side of the house, and they spread green and brown foliage all over the surrounding grass.
There was a large fountain outside the entrance to the Manor, in the shape of a large stone eagle, perched onto a log which was spitting clear running water out each end.

As soon as we trotted the horses up to the entrance, a sleepy-eyed servant raced out to help us. He held the reins as we dismounted, then lead the mares to be cleaned and fed, while yawning and blinking owlishly.
We stepped up a few long, flat stairs before we reached a large oak door that had been left open by the stable-boy.
We stepped inside the entrance and Albert declared,
‘Welcome home.’
--

I tried to shut my mouth when I realised it was hanging open, but the muscles in my face seemed impotent, and I left it there, jaw almost to the floor at the sight of the inside of my would-be home and workplace.

The entrance hall was huge. There were large arches leading to doors on both the left and right-hand sides, and straight ahead was a large archway leading, I presumed, out the back, and before the door, was the most magnificent staircase in creation. The staircase started in two places, several feet from each other, but curved elegantly to end up joined as one on the next floor. The hand-rail was made of solid oak, and along the lengths were carved various depictions of wildlife and fauna. The statues at the end of each hand-rail were large oak eagles, with piercing eyes and sharp beaks. They all looked so existent that I half-expected them to fly off into the sky, at any given second.
The floor of the staircase was white marble, as was the floor of the rest of the entrance hall, and also the high walls and archways.
The floor was covered in an exquisite rug that ran lengthways, and also up the joined staircases. In its finely weaved thread was also the various wildlife and fauna that could be found in the hand-rails. The soft colours and portraits on the material entwined it perfectly with the rest of the entrance hall, making the room look particularly inviting and appealing. There were tapestries of beautiful people on either side of the room, and I thought I could hear the soft, clear sound of running water echoing through the marble walls.
The doors leading to various rooms were all open, and they were also made of oak, with large eagle handles.

‘Stop dawdling’ Albert said irritably, as he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me alongside of him, and up the wonderful stairs.
‘Lord Fale is usually on the roof at this time of morning.’
What in the blazes is he doing on the roof? I contemplated, walking faster, thanks to Albert, past the railing at the top of the stairs, and up a similar single-staircase on the opposite side of the room.
When we reached the third floor of Fale Manor, Albert directed me towards A door in front of us that would lead us outside.
I hoped Lord Fale had a balcony.
Upon opening the door, I was hit full in the face by a cool morning breeze that seemed like it had waiting for the right opportunity to show itself.
I was forced out onto a small concrete platform, before - now following Albert- stepping up a set of stairs to my left.
After we had successfully climbed the concrete steps and reached the roof, I was greeted by an incredibly breath-taking sight.
The roof overlooked the forests in Lord Fale’s domain to the North, and the distant mountains to the South. It also hovered above green and yellow pastures to the East and West, and in the distant North-West I saw a clear view of the Castle of the King, in the capital city of Arin, perched on its rocky cliffs above a treacherous sea.

My attention was caught by the movement of Albert as he walked straight from me, and turned right at a fork-in-the-road. Only then did I notice my surroundings on the rooftop. I was standing on the edge of a garden, with rolling grass and a fountain in the middle, fresh water twinkling in the morning rays. As I turned to the left and right of where I was, I figured out that I must be in the middle of the ‘H’.
Along the two outer bars of the ‘H’ ran long, high cages.
As I followed in the direction Albert had disappeared to,  I noticed that they weren’t just cages.
The aviaries were filled with the most glorious birds I had ever seen, and had velvety-green vines coiled along the wire, as to look like small forests had been plucked out of the ground and placed on either side of the roof-top.

I turned where Albert had turned and sped up past the cage until I came to the end.
There was a beautiful fountain on the edge of the roof-top and it was partly sheltered by two large stone statues on either side. As I neared I noticed that Albert and a robed figure were standing behind the fountain, looking over the Northern Forests.
I stood up to my full height and walked soberly, my left arm crooked behind my back, and my right arm swinging.
Braccada had taught me to walk properly before I left. “ The Lord expects you to walk properly, none of this hulking business. And besides, no-one wants a hump-backed husband.” He had told me, and I was quite inclined to agree.

My footsteps were heard as I grew closer, and Albert turned  to smile at me, before turning back to hold onto the stone hand-rail that ran around the roof, and look over the forests once more.
My Lord, however, did not turn. He simply raised his left arm, which I noticed was gloved in black leather, and held it there for a moment.
I was just wondering if my new master was  barmy or off his rocker before I heard a shrill cry, and saw a magnificent white eagle streaking towards us like a bolt of white lightning.
Powerful muscles rippling with every flapping motion made, he landed beautifully on Lord Fale’s left arm before settling his wings and sitting ascetically, looking straight ahead with no apparent interest in anything. Occasionally he cocked his beautiful head to either side, as if trying to hear something far away.
It was after he had settled did Lord Fale turn to face me, his long white-blond hair slightly moving in the cool breeze.
‘Ahh, Sir Winter,’ he addressed me graciously.
I bowed low and raised my head a fraction.
I had prepared this speech on the long ride over, and my stomach was fluttering frantically.
‘My Lord, I am appreciative and grateful that you desire me at your service, but I am confused as to why you selected me. I have no great skill in anything that I know of, and  quite frankly, if I were you, I wouldn’t hire me.’
I hated the thought of Lord Fale deciding it was best if I left his service after all, but I felt I needed to tell him the truth. I was, after all, perplexed as to why he chose me in the first place, and decided he deserved to know what I thought on the matter.

A smile crept onto Lord Fale’s handsome face, his grey eyes sparkling.
‘That is why I chose you, Dain Winter.’
I looked up and he continued, ‘Your honesty is appealing. Quite frankly,’ he said, using my words, ‘the rest doesn’t bother me. You can be taught all you need to know, and I’m not going to let an outstanding young man like you slip away to become some other Lord’s Best Man. Oh no, I’ll filch you while you’re still available.’
He turned away from me, black robes billowing, and I stood up straight, looking at the back of his white head as he stroked the eagle lovingly.
‘Albert..’
‘Yes Milord?’ asked Albert anxiously.
‘Take the boy on a tour of the Manor will you? And he can start on his first lessons today if he is up for it.’
‘Yes Milord.’
And just like that, I was being ushered off the roof by an impatient Albert, and before I knew it, I was off the garden-covered roof, and standing on the third floor of Fale Manor.
‘Well, we should start here I suppose,’ Albert guessed, and began the tour.

--

Fale Manor was large and richly dressed, although quite spartan in its furnishings.
It held surprisingly few rooms for a house as large as this, but I guessed it was due to the fact that each room was three times larger than it would have been in other wealthy houses.
The West Wing of the third floor consisted of the Lady’s Sitting Room, the Brandy Room for the gentlemen, and Lord Fale’s private study, while the Fencing Room, the Library, and the Public Study occupied the East Wing.
The second-floor was mainly private chambers. Again in the West Wing were the Lord and Lady’s chambers, and the Nursery and chambers of their daughter Liliandra.
The East Wing on the second floor  held several Guest Chambers, and the personal chambers of the Best Man and Best Man in Training.
I hadn’t the chance to see where I would sleep, as Albert practically forced me down to the first floor to finish the tour of the interior of Fale Manor.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I found my bearings as Albert showed me the rooms on the ground floor.
To the right of the entrance was the Kitchen, and that lead into the Dining Room, which, Albert told me, had passageways inside the walls so the servants could come and go through the kitchen and into the Dining Room through a panel without disturbing the guests and/or spilling something that needed to be cleaned up before some unsuspecting Lady stood on it.
To the left of the entrance was the beautiful Ballroom, with oak floors and a bandstand; and also the Entertainment Lounge.
Joining the Entertainment Lounge to the Ballroom was not a wall, but instead, a rather large indoor garden where one could walk through and enjoy the small fountains and statues, surrounded by green foliage. At least now I knew where the sound of water was hailing from.
The House of Fale seemed to consist of extremely nature-orientated individuals.

--

My first lesson was in the Fencing Room.
The Fencing Room is exactly what it implies, a room to hone one’s skills at combat, be it had-to-hand or  swordplay.
The floor was a light coloured pliable wood, so it could move and stretch with the humidity, and not crack or strain under the pressure that was put on it by everyday use.
We changed into neutral white robes, and Albert handed me a long, thin stick of bamboo.
I raised my eyebrows in question at him and he just smiled and said quite simply,
‘Try to hit me with the stick.’
‘You want me to hit you…. with this?’ I asked, holding the bamboo stick with my right hand.
Albert nodded and readied himself.
I grinned. This would be too easy. Holding the stick long-ways with both hands, I suddenly shoved it in Albert’s direction, as to poke him swiftly in the abdomen.
To my surprise, he twisted from the waist-up away from the stick, and slapped it away from his victimised person.
My eyes flew wide and he smirked.
I frowned and tried to slap him upside the chin with the stick, to wipe the smirk off his face. He leaned back and caused the stick to narrowly miss his chin which was now pointed at the ceiling, and he snapped back up, grabbed the stick out of my hands, and in one swift move, spun the stick around and smacked me on top of the head with it.

I said something incoherent and invective as I rubbed my head which was now throbbing painfully. I would have a lump by tomorrow.
I stood back up cautiously, and gave him a pained look.
‘ ”Know thy enemy” ’, he quoted at me. ‘Remember this rule; Never run headfirst into a fight when you have no idea where the other fellow’s talents lie. It can only be hazardous to your health.’
I scowled at him and asked sceptically, ‘So what, I was supposed to ask you if you were able to smack me with my own stick?’
Albert’s face lit up at this banter. ‘Yes, of course. Now, let’s see if I can do it again, shall we?’

My physical training went on for several hours, and stopped when it was time for lunch, leaving both Albert and I drenched with sweat and drained of energy.
We ate in the kitchen with the servants, although Albert told me that we always had a place at the Lord’s table. It felt quite comfortable being in a room full of chattering and chewing people, and most of whom were interested about the neophyte.
My next lessons were not taught to me by Albert, but by a severe-looking tawny-haired man, whom I was introduced to as the Tutor of the House of Fale.
Master Ribelgo was a strict man, and would not let my mind sit unused at any expense. The rest of the day was given to mental and pen-studies, including the more tedious of the two; geography and calligraphy.
Needless to say, by the time the Fale grocer had given me a lift home in his cart late at night, I was absolutely exhausted.

The sleep I had that night was not restful as I had intended, but resulted in the most disturbing dream I have had yet…

--

The black wolf lifted her head and sniffed curiously at the light breeze.
She smelled him. It was too easy. The man obviously didn’t wash very often, and to her wolf-senses, he could be smelled for miles around.
She padded quietly through the undergrowth covering the forest floor.
Sheltered by the overgrowing vines and trees, she had a perfect view of the farm-house, including the chicken pen. She licked her chops uncontrollably at the thought of fresh meat.
That was when she saw him.
Her unusually green eyes watched the man work in the garden, as her tongue lolled from the heat of the sun.
As the hefty man walked back inside the farmhouse to collect an item, the wolf stepped back from the opening of the forest and into the full shade of the trees.

She closed her eyes, and after a moment of tolerated excruciating pain and pleasure, she opened them once more. When she opened her eyes, they were not the wolf’s eyes they had been moments ago, but the beautiful, long-lashed, green eyes of a human.
The girl stood up slowly from her crouched position, and tossed her long black hair over her shoulder in a regal fashion.
Wolfishly scratching her neck with four fingers, she stepped outside of the cool shade of the forest trees and into the brilliance of the sun.
After noticing a movement in the large barn to the left, she headed in that direction. She needed to find it.
The smelly man had stolen it and she had to get it back.
The man had not been hard to follow. She had been following the priest for a few days before she smelled the rotten, festering smell of death, and then she found him, slit in two, at the bottom of a large ravine.
The fat man’s stink hung in the air like an unspoken curse.
She had followed it until she arrived at the farm.
He was as stupid as he looked.
Walking towards the barn, a gust of wind send her long black silk skirt billowing, and her waist-length shining mass of sinister hair flying in her eyes, causing her to growl with impatience at the unpredictability of weather.

The growl caused an ugly grey head to poke out of the barn, and out skulked its possessor, a small old woman, who was around the same height as the stranger.
The grey woman frowned, ‘What do you want?’ she asked suspiciously, eyeing the girl’s form. She must have looked pretty and frail to most, her small figure laced with a magnificent black skirt and equally magnificent corseted shirt, with her beautiful green eyes and long raven hair; but the smile in the edge of her mouth told a different story, as did the slightly sharpened canines of her pearly-whites, and the heavy boots concealed under the swirling mass of skirt that she wore.
‘I have come to claim something that was stolen.’ She said simply, in a sweet but deadly voice, like sugar mixed with venom.
The grey lady flickered her eyes behind her and backed up defensively.
‘No. I have stolen nothing.’
‘I know,’ said the sweet voice of the girl, ‘But he has…’ she added, turning to face the man that had ‘crept’ up behind her. His stink hit her wolf senses like a wave, and she tried not to gag as she smiled politely at him.
‘Where is it?’ she asked.
The jiggling man looked utterly confused.
‘Where is wh-what?’ he stuttered, looking wildly around.
‘The book.’
‘Wh-what b-book?’ He looked up at his mother, utterly bewildered. ‘Mother? What book?’
His mother gave him a deadly look. ‘There is no ‘book’ you useless sack of horse shit! She’s lying to us to steal something while we go look for it!’
The large man looked again at the smiling girl.
‘Are you lying to mother?’
‘No,’ she said slowly, her words gradually leaking more venom, ‘But it seems that your mother is lying to you. You have stolen a book, and I have come to claim it.’
The fat man looked at his mother, recognition dawning in his shallow eyes.
The girl could see right through him.
His eyes flickered to a spot on the wall, and she followed his gaze to have her eyes rest on an ageing barrel.
A cubby-hole? How quaint.
The old woman saw the girl looking in the direction of the barrel and panicked.
‘Who are you?’ she prodded menacingly.
The girl’s green eyes flickered to the old woman as she idly licked a sharp canine.
‘No-one of consequence.’
‘Good.’ the grey thing spat, ‘Then get out of my barn!’
Her voice was poisoned honey. ‘Not until I get what I came for.’

She had started to glide over to the barrel when she felt it.
The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood upright, and her wolf senses took control as she changed in the blink of an eye, to round up on her attacker.
The grey woman dropped the spade in fright as she eyed the girl was no longer a girl.
The black wolf with the green eyes inched closer to the woman, head lowered, ears down, and a fierce growl issuing from the back of her throat.
The woman tried to run but it was too late. Hackles raised, the black wolf was on her in a matter of seconds, ripping her foul jugular clear in one swift and strategic move, blood spraying in droplets from where her frail flesh had been torn.
‘MOTHER!’ came a cry in the corner, and the wolf glanced up to see the overweight man turn and run.
She would finish him off.
The animals around here deserved to be free of his felonious stench.
Bounding after him, the black wolf pounced on the man as he turned, and he soon met the same bloody fate as his revolting mother.

The girl –covered in blood and various tissues of the human body-, holding her skirt up, stepped happily over the once-grey now-red woman’s form, and skipped over to the barrel, where she examined it, and the wall beside it, before finding the cubby-hole.
‘How quaint’, she repeated to herself as she reached in and took what she had come to claim.
She tucked the book under one arm and strode gleefully and purposefully towards the chicken-pen.

--

Two summers later, I sat in my favourite tavern -The Cock’s Call-  and morosely drank my ale with Lucien, who was presently chatting up a girl at the bar.
I rubbed my cold hands and smiled to myself.
Most of the girls in Arin were attracted to Lucien, so he didn’t really have to try hard before she left the tavern, with him in tow.
He winked at me before departing, and I rolled my eyes. He was becoming increasingly loose with who he saw, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.
I was sure it was his training for the Army. He had trained every day for the past two summers as I had, but he trained only in combat and battle-manoeuvres; I think he felt the need to keep physically active. Either that or he was worried that there were no females in Southern Arrah, where he was being posted in two days time.
I however, had resorted to seeing Ami secretly and exclusively.
I lived at the splendid Fale Manor, continued my lessons and teachings every day, and came home to Braccada’s cottage in the weekends, where I would spend time with him, Lucien, and Ami on a regular basis.

I left a few silvers on the table for the drinks and left the tavern, walking into the gloomy shadow of the cloud-enveloped sky. There was a storm coming. I had to get home before it hit.
The wind picked up and threatened to blow me off the road if I tallied, so I ran in the hopes that I would not be drenched. I made it to the cottage just before a huge gust of wind brought stinging rain down on the citizens of Arin, and I shut the door gratefully, stepping into the fire-warmed living room.
Braccada was sitting in his favourite chair by the hearth, carving something out of a block of wood.
I smiled at the image of him, tousled hair over his eyes, and sitting forward, eyeing the piece speculatively.

‘There’s a letter on the table for you.’ he said quietly, analysing the wooden form.
I was surprised, and quite shocked.
I had never had mail before in my life. Who would write to me?
I shrugged the cold off as I walked to the table to find a crisp paper envelope, sealed with red wax, and stamped with a symbol which I was unfamiliar with. From what I could make out, it was in the shape of some sort of dragon.
I turned the letter over to find a simple word scrawled on the front in scribbled calligraphy.
It simply said, ‘Dain’.
As I pondered who would write to me in such a formal manner, I peeled off the dragon-shaped wax  and pulled out a piece of paper that was surprisingly warm to the touch. I placed the envelope back onto the table and raised my eyes in speculation at the words on the paper.
After I had read the sentence a few times, making sure I had it correctly, the paper grew hotter still, and I jumped back in fright as it disintegrated between my fingertips. The recently combusted paper-ash scattered to the floor as Brac came to look at what I thought had not presently happened.
We gave each other problematic looks as the words that had been on the paper looped in my head. Over and over again they played. What did they mean? The paper had only revealed these words, in the same scrawling script that I had found on the envelope;

‘The Book is open… Find Orion.’

Description
My stepfather was right.
The next evening I trudged through the door, and trying not to notice Brac’s curious expression, went straight to my chambers and fell onto the bed, asleep before my head even hit the pillow.
My day had been eventful, to say the least.

I had awoken before the sun, and to my great disdain, found Albert sitting at the dining table, In full conversation with Braccada.
Apparently I had “slept in”.
We had greeted each other courteously, and when we exited the front door, I saw two of the most magnificent mares I’d ever seen, tethered to the water trough.
One was purely black with white socks, mane and tail, and the other was a chestnut, with a snowy white mane, tail, and foretop. Albert introduced me to the horses with pride. They were both owned by Lord Fale, but were under our own care and personal use while we were in his service. Albert’s mare was Harini, the chestnut, and he introduced the black and white as Blaze. She was to be mine.
I had never ridden, and so was nervous in the saddle at first, and Blaze became skittish, aware of my uneasiness.

When we arrived at the gates of Fale Manor, somewhat half an hour after we had left the cottage, I was feeling quite comfortable in the saddle, and Blaze had calmed down considerably.
We were greeted at the large steel gates by two guards in matching armour.
They looked at our clothing and Albert bowed his head slowly at them in recognition. The guards nodded and slowly pulled the gates open.
The road that lead up to Fale Manor was packed dirt and not paved, as to -I assumed- not tire the horses that often rode it.
Fale Manor glistened like a pearl in the rising sun as we road closer.
The peach and yellow coloured rays of the morning light bounced off the three-storeys of Fale Manor, and I noticed that the exquisite building was not made of stone as most of the native Arranians preferred, but a beautiful white marble that was probably harvested in the South.
I was questioning Lord Fale’s heritage when we passed two large fountains on either side of the road.  The paved squares that the fountains were levelled on, thinned into pathways that lead to the Manor, and all around us, what wasn’t paved was fresh grass, with the morning dew clinging still to its supple green blades.

As we neared, Albert decided to give me a quick verbal tour of the outside of the grounds.
‘So,’ he said calmly, ‘What do you think so far?’
I did not know what to say, and told him as much.
He smiled the same smile I had first seen him give me, all those years ago. He hadn’t changed much; his hair was longer and tied at the nape of his neck with a strange broach, and he was taller than I remember, but apart from that, he was the same smiling auburn-haired man I had met in my youth.
‘Well, this is Fale Manor. We’ll be working here and living here for qui…’
‘We’re going to live here?!’ I asked surprised. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to move out yet, even if it was to live in such splendour as this.
‘Well you don’t have to, but it would be easier than coming and going everyday, and this way you’ll learn faster, living around the environment. I’ve been staying here since I was your age,…and I adore it still.’ He whispered, looking around the large grounds of Fale Manor.
I nodded grimly. I wondered what Brac would say.
‘Like I was saying,’ Albert continued, ‘The West and East of the Manor are lined with statues, and most of them are the previous Lord Fales…..’ he pointed out, nodding at the right and left of the Manor, where I could just see a pathway snaking around its sharp, shining corners.
Albert smiled. ‘You see where the Manor is longer in the wings, and is deeper in the entrance?’
I nodded serenely.
‘Well it’s like that on both sides, so if you were to look at it from above, it would look like a giant marble ‘H’.’
I smiled at that notion, and gazed over the grounds. There was nobody about, which wasn’t surprising, considering the early hour.
We neared the dip of the ‘H’ and I noticed that oak trees had been planted in rows down either inner-side of the house, and they spread green and brown foliage all over the surrounding grass.
There was a large fountain outside the entrance to the Manor, in the shape of a large stone eagle, perched onto a log which was spitting clear running water out each end.

As soon as we trotted the horses up to the entrance, a sleepy-eyed servant raced out to help us. He held the reins as we dismounted, then lead the mares to be cleaned and fed, while yawning and blinking owlishly.
We stepped up a few long, flat stairs before we reached a large oak door that had been left open by the stable-boy.
We stepped inside the entrance and Albert declared,
‘Welcome home.’
--

I tried to shut my mouth when I realised it was hanging open, but the muscles in my face seemed impotent, and I left it there, jaw almost to the floor at the sight of the inside of my would-be home and workplace.

The entrance hall was huge. There were large arches leading to doors on both the left and right-hand sides, and straight ahead was a large archway leading, I presumed, out the back, and before the door, was the most magnificent staircase in creation. The staircase started in two places, several feet from each other, but curved elegantly to end up joined as one on the next floor. The hand-rail was made of solid oak, and along the lengths were carved various depictions of wildlife and fauna. The statues at the end of each hand-rail were large oak eagles, with piercing eyes and sharp beaks. They all looked so existent that I half-expected them to fly off into the sky, at any given second.
The floor of the staircase was white marble, as was the floor of the rest of the entrance hall, and also the high walls and archways.
The floor was covered in an exquisite rug that ran lengthways, and also up the joined staircases. In its finely weaved thread was also the various wildlife and fauna that could be found in the hand-rails. The soft colours and portraits on the material entwined it perfectly with the rest of the entrance hall, making the room look particularly inviting and appealing. There were tapestries of beautiful people on either side of the room, and I thought I could hear the soft, clear sound of running water echoing through the marble walls.
The doors leading to various rooms were all open, and they were also made of oak, with large eagle handles.

‘Stop dawdling’ Albert said irritably, as he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me alongside of him, and up the wonderful stairs.
‘Lord Fale is usually on the roof at this time of morning.’
What in the blazes is he doing on the roof? I contemplated, walking faster, thanks to Albert, past the railing at the top of the stairs, and up a similar single-staircase on the opposite side of the room.
When we reached the third floor of Fale Manor, Albert directed me towards A door in front of us that would lead us outside.
I hoped Lord Fale had a balcony.
Upon opening the door, I was hit full in the face by a cool morning breeze that seemed like it had waiting for the right opportunity to show itself.
I was forced out onto a small concrete platform, before - now following Albert- stepping up a set of stairs to my left.
After we had successfully climbed the concrete steps and reached the roof, I was greeted by an incredibly breath-taking sight.
The roof overlooked the forests in Lord Fale’s domain to the North, and the distant mountains to the South. It also hovered above green and yellow pastures to the East and West, and in the distant North-West I saw a clear view of the Castle of the King, in the capital city of Arin, perched on its rocky cliffs above a treacherous sea.

My attention was caught by the movement of Albert as he walked straight from me, and turned right at a fork-in-the-road. Only then did I notice my surroundings on the rooftop. I was standing on the edge of a garden, with rolling grass and a fountain in the middle, fresh water twinkling in the morning rays. As I turned to the left and right of where I was, I figured out that I must be in the middle of the ‘H’.
Along the two outer bars of the ‘H’ ran long, high cages.
As I followed in the direction Albert had disappeared to,  I noticed that they weren’t just cages.
The aviaries were filled with the most glorious birds I had ever seen, and had velvety-green vines coiled along the wire, as to look like small forests had been plucked out of the ground and placed on either side of the roof-top.

I turned where Albert had turned and sped up past the cage until I came to the end.
There was a beautiful fountain on the edge of the roof-top and it was partly sheltered by two large stone statues on either side. As I neared I noticed that Albert and a robed figure were standing behind the fountain, looking over the Northern Forests.
I stood up to my full height and walked soberly, my left arm crooked behind my back, and my right arm swinging.
Braccada had taught me to walk properly before I left. “ The Lord expects you to walk properly, none of this hulking business. And besides, no-one wants a hump-backed husband.” He had told me, and I was quite inclined to agree.

My footsteps were heard as I grew closer, and Albert turned  to smile at me, before turning back to hold onto the stone hand-rail that ran around the roof, and look over the forests once more.
My Lord, however, did not turn. He simply raised his left arm, which I noticed was gloved in black leather, and held it there for a moment.
I was just wondering if my new master was  barmy or off his rocker before I heard a shrill cry, and saw a magnificent white eagle streaking towards us like a bolt of white lightning.
Powerful muscles rippling with every flapping motion made, he landed beautifully on Lord Fale’s left arm before settling his wings and sitting ascetically, looking straight ahead with no apparent interest in anything. Occasionally he cocked his beautiful head to either side, as if trying to hear something far away.
It was after he had settled did Lord Fale turn to face me, his long white-blond hair slightly moving in the cool breeze.
‘Ahh, Sir Winter,’ he addressed me graciously.
I bowed low and raised my head a fraction.
I had prepared this speech on the long ride over, and my stomach was fluttering frantically.
‘My Lord, I am appreciative and grateful that you desire me at your service, but I am confused as to why you selected me. I have no great skill in anything that I know of, and  quite frankly, if I were you, I wouldn’t hire me.’
I hated the thought of Lord Fale deciding it was best if I left his service after all, but I felt I needed to tell him the truth. I was, after all, perplexed as to why he chose me in the first place, and decided he deserved to know what I thought on the matter.

A smile crept onto Lord Fale’s handsome face, his grey eyes sparkling.
‘That is why I chose you, Dain Winter.’
I looked up and he continued, ‘Your honesty is appealing. Quite frankly,’ he said, using my words, ‘the rest doesn’t bother me. You can be taught all you need to know, and I’m not going to let an outstanding young man like you slip away to become some other Lord’s Best Man. Oh no, I’ll filch you while you’re still available.’
He turned away from me, black robes billowing, and I stood up straight, looking at the back of his white head as he stroked the eagle lovingly.
‘Albert..’
‘Yes Milord?’ asked Albert anxiously.
‘Take the boy on a tour of the Manor will you? And he can start on his first lessons today if he is up for it.’
‘Yes Milord.’
And just like that, I was being ushered off the roof by an impatient Albert, and before I knew it, I was off the garden-covered roof, and standing on the third floor of Fale Manor.
‘Well, we should start here I suppose,’ Albert guessed, and began the tour.

--

Fale Manor was large and richly dressed, although quite spartan in its furnishings.
It held surprisingly few rooms for a house as large as this, but I guessed it was due to the fact that each room was three times larger than it would have been in other wealthy houses.
The West Wing of the third floor consisted of the Lady’s Sitting Room, the Brandy Room for the gentlemen, and Lord Fale’s private study, while the Fencing Room, the Library, and the Public Study occupied the East Wing.
The second-floor was mainly private chambers. Again in the West Wing were the Lord and Lady’s chambers, and the Nursery and chambers of their daughter Liliandra.
The East Wing on the second floor  held several Guest Chambers, and the personal chambers of the Best Man and Best Man in Training.
I hadn’t the chance to see where I would sleep, as Albert practically forced me down to the first floor to finish the tour of the interior of Fale Manor.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I found my bearings as Albert showed me the rooms on the ground floor.
To the right of the entrance was the Kitchen, and that lead into the Dining Room, which, Albert told me, had passageways inside the walls so the servants could come and go through the kitchen and into the Dining Room through a panel without disturbing the guests and/or spilling something that needed to be cleaned up before some unsuspecting Lady stood on it.
To the left of the entrance was the beautiful Ballroom, with oak floors and a bandstand; and also the Entertainment Lounge.
Joining the Entertainment Lounge to the Ballroom was not a wall, but instead, a rather large indoor garden where one could walk through and enjoy the small fountains and statues, surrounded by green foliage. At least now I knew where the sound of water was hailing from.
The House of Fale seemed to consist of extremely nature-orientated individuals.

--

My first lesson was in the Fencing Room.
The Fencing Room is exactly what it implies, a room to hone one’s skills at combat, be it had-to-hand or  swordplay.
The floor was a light coloured pliable wood, so it could move and stretch with the humidity, and not crack or strain under the pressure that was put on it by everyday use.
We changed into neutral white robes, and Albert handed me a long, thin stick of bamboo.
I raised my eyebrows in question at him and he just smiled and said quite simply,
‘Try to hit me with the stick.’
‘You want me to hit you…. with this?’ I asked, holding the bamboo stick with my right hand.
Albert nodded and readied himself.
I grinned. This would be too easy. Holding the stick long-ways with both hands, I suddenly shoved it in Albert’s direction, as to poke him swiftly in the abdomen.
To my surprise, he twisted from the waist-up away from the stick, and slapped it away from his victimised person.
My eyes flew wide and he smirked.
I frowned and tried to slap him upside the chin with the stick, to wipe the smirk off his face. He leaned back and caused the stick to narrowly miss his chin which was now pointed at the ceiling, and he snapped back up, grabbed the stick out of my hands, and in one swift move, spun the stick around and smacked me on top of the head with it.

I said something incoherent and invective as I rubbed my head which was now throbbing painfully. I would have a lump by tomorrow.
I stood back up cautiously, and gave him a pained look.
‘ ”Know thy enemy” ’, he quoted at me. ‘Remember this rule; Never run headfirst into a fight when you have no idea where the other fellow’s talents lie. It can only be hazardous to your health.’
I scowled at him and asked sceptically, ‘So what, I was supposed to ask you if you were able to smack me with my own stick?’
Albert’s face lit up at this banter. ‘Yes, of course. Now, let’s see if I can do it again, shall we?’

My physical training went on for several hours, and stopped when it was time for lunch, leaving both Albert and I drenched with sweat and drained of energy.
We ate in the kitchen with the servants, although Albert told me that we always had a place at the Lord’s table. It felt quite comfortable being in a room full of chattering and chewing people, and most of whom were interested about the neophyte.
My next lessons were not taught to me by Albert, but by a severe-looking tawny-haired man, whom I was introduced to as the Tutor of the House of Fale.
Master Ribelgo was a strict man, and would not let my mind sit unused at any expense. The rest of the day was given to mental and pen-studies, including the more tedious of the two; geography and calligraphy.
Needless to say, by the time the Fale grocer had given me a lift home in his cart late at night, I was absolutely exhausted.

The sleep I had that night was not restful as I had intended, but resulted in the most disturbing dream I have had yet…

--

The black wolf lifted her head and sniffed curiously at the light breeze.
She smelled him. It was too easy. The man obviously didn’t wash very often, and to her wolf-senses, he could be smelled for miles around.
She padded quietly through the undergrowth covering the forest floor.
Sheltered by the overgrowing vines and trees, she had a perfect view of the farm-house, including the chicken pen. She licked her chops uncontrollably at the thought of fresh meat.
That was when she saw him.
Her unusually green eyes watched the man work in the garden, as her tongue lolled from the heat of the sun.
As the hefty man walked back inside the farmhouse to collect an item, the wolf stepped back from the opening of the forest and into the full shade of the trees.

She closed her eyes, and after a moment of tolerated excruciating pain and pleasure, she opened them once more. When she opened her eyes, they were not the wolf’s eyes they had been moments ago, but the beautiful, long-lashed, green eyes of a human.
The girl stood up slowly from her crouched position, and tossed her long black hair over her shoulder in a regal fashion.
Wolfishly scratching her neck with four fingers, she stepped outside of the cool shade of the forest trees and into the brilliance of the sun.
After noticing a movement in the large barn to the left, she headed in that direction. She needed to find it.
The smelly man had stolen it and she had to get it back.
The man had not been hard to follow. She had been following the priest for a few days before she smelled the rotten, festering smell of death, and then she found him, slit in two, at the bottom of a large ravine.
The fat man’s stink hung in the air like an unspoken curse.
She had followed it until she arrived at the farm.
He was as stupid as he looked.
Walking towards the barn, a gust of wind send her long black silk skirt billowing, and her waist-length shining mass of sinister hair flying in her eyes, causing her to growl with impatience at the unpredictability of weather.

The growl caused an ugly grey head to poke out of the barn, and out skulked its possessor, a small old woman, who was around the same height as the stranger.
The grey woman frowned, ‘What do you want?’ she asked suspiciously, eyeing the girl’s form. She must have looked pretty and frail to most, her small figure laced with a magnificent black skirt and equally magnificent corseted shirt, with her beautiful green eyes and long raven hair; but the smile in the edge of her mouth told a different story, as did the slightly sharpened canines of her pearly-whites, and the heavy boots concealed under the swirling mass of skirt that she wore.
‘I have come to claim something that was stolen.’ She said simply, in a sweet but deadly voice, like sugar mixed with venom.
The grey lady flickered her eyes behind her and backed up defensively.
‘No. I have stolen nothing.’
‘I know,’ said the sweet voice of the girl, ‘But he has…’ she added, turning to face the man that had ‘crept’ up behind her. His stink hit her wolf senses like a wave, and she tried not to gag as she smiled politely at him.
‘Where is it?’ she asked.
The jiggling man looked utterly confused.
‘Where is wh-what?’ he stuttered, looking wildly around.
‘The book.’
‘Wh-what b-book?’ He looked up at his mother, utterly bewildered. ‘Mother? What book?’
His mother gave him a deadly look. ‘There is no ‘book’ you useless sack of horse shit! She’s lying to us to steal something while we go look for it!’
The large man looked again at the smiling girl.
‘Are you lying to mother?’
‘No,’ she said slowly, her words gradually leaking more venom, ‘But it seems that your mother is lying to you. You have stolen a book, and I have come to claim it.’
The fat man looked at his mother, recognition dawning in his shallow eyes.
The girl could see right through him.
His eyes flickered to a spot on the wall, and she followed his gaze to have her eyes rest on an ageing barrel.
A cubby-hole? How quaint.
The old woman saw the girl looking in the direction of the barrel and panicked.
‘Who are you?’ she prodded menacingly.
The girl’s green eyes flickered to the old woman as she idly licked a sharp canine.
‘No-one of consequence.’
‘Good.’ the grey thing spat, ‘Then get out of my barn!’
Her voice was poisoned honey. ‘Not until I get what I came for.’

She had started to glide over to the barrel when she felt it.
The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood upright, and her wolf senses took control as she changed in the blink of an eye, to round up on her attacker.
The grey woman dropped the spade in fright as she eyed the girl was no longer a girl.
The black wolf with the green eyes inched closer to the woman, head lowered, ears down, and a fierce growl issuing from the back of her throat.
The woman tried to run but it was too late. Hackles raised, the black wolf was on her in a matter of seconds, ripping her foul jugular clear in one swift and strategic move, blood spraying in droplets from where her frail flesh had been torn.
‘MOTHER!’ came a cry in the corner, and the wolf glanced up to see the overweight man turn and run.
She would finish him off.
The animals around here deserved to be free of his felonious stench.
Bounding after him, the black wolf pounced on the man as he turned, and he soon met the same bloody fate as his revolting mother.

The girl –covered in blood and various tissues of the human body-, holding her skirt up, stepped happily over the once-grey now-red woman’s form, and skipped over to the barrel, where she examined it, and the wall beside it, before finding the cubby-hole.
‘How quaint’, she repeated to herself as she reached in and took what she had come to claim.
She tucked the book under one arm and strode gleefully and purposefully towards the chicken-pen.

--

Two summers later, I sat in my favourite tavern -The Cock’s Call-  and morosely drank my ale with Lucien, who was presently chatting up a girl at the bar.
I rubbed my cold hands and smiled to myself.
Most of the girls in Arin were attracted to Lucien, so he didn’t really have to try hard before she left the tavern, with him in tow.
He winked at me before departing, and I rolled my eyes. He was becoming increasingly loose with who he saw, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.
I was sure it was his training for the Army. He had trained every day for the past two summers as I had, but he trained only in combat and battle-manoeuvres; I think he felt the need to keep physically active. Either that or he was worried that there were no females in Southern Arrah, where he was being posted in two days time.
I however, had resorted to seeing Ami secretly and exclusively.
I lived at the splendid Fale Manor, continued my lessons and teachings every day, and came home to Braccada’s cottage in the weekends, where I would spend time with him, Lucien, and Ami on a regular basis.

I left a few silvers on the table for the drinks and left the tavern, walking into the gloomy shadow of the cloud-enveloped sky. There was a storm coming. I had to get home before it hit.
The wind picked up and threatened to blow me off the road if I tallied, so I ran in the hopes that I would not be drenched. I made it to the cottage just before a huge gust of wind brought stinging rain down on the citizens of Arin, and I shut the door gratefully, stepping into the fire-warmed living room.
Braccada was sitting in his favourite chair by the hearth, carving something out of a block of wood.
I smiled at the image of him, tousled hair over his eyes, and sitting forward, eyeing the piece speculatively.

‘There’s a letter on the table for you.’ he said quietly, analysing the wooden form.
I was surprised, and quite shocked.
I had never had mail before in my life. Who would write to me?
I shrugged the cold off as I walked to the table to find a crisp paper envelope, sealed with red wax, and stamped with a symbol which I was unfamiliar with. From what I could make out, it was in the shape of some sort of dragon.
I turned the letter over to find a simple word scrawled on the front in scribbled calligraphy.
It simply said, ‘Dain’.
As I pondered who would write to me in such a formal manner, I peeled off the dragon-shaped wax  and pulled out a piece of paper that was surprisingly warm to the touch. I placed the envelope back onto the table and raised my eyes in speculation at the words on the paper.
After I had read the sentence a few times, making sure I had it correctly, the paper grew hotter still, and I jumped back in fright as it disintegrated between my fingertips. The recently combusted paper-ash scattered to the floor as Brac came to look at what I thought had not presently happened.
We gave each other problematic looks as the words that had been on the paper looped in my head. Over and over again they played. What did they mean? The paper had only revealed these words, in the same scrawling script that I had found on the envelope;

‘The Book is open… Find Orion.’