Tragedy of the Raven Part 1, Chapter 1
By Prince Nightmare
Glenn could still remember that particular day that happened nearly five years before. The day had started like any other. He had awakened, putting his hand over his face to shield his unfocused eyes from the first bright light of dawn. The sparrows chirped merrily outside his small cottage, welcoming back the sun from its nightly journey. Yes, the morning held all the promise that it would become a glorious day.
He had jumped out of bed singing, he recalled, and splashed a little water on his face from his basin on the table near his bed. Whistling a merry tune not unlike that of the sparrows, he ran his fingers through his hair…. That was when he stopped whistling.
He wasn’t supposed to have hair. Frogs didn’t have hair… Startled, he looked down at his fingers holding a strand of greenish hair. Then he really got a shock. His hands were no longer the green webbed appendages that belonged to the amphibious man-frog he’d grown used to being over the last decade. They were only a normal man’s hands now…
He had crumpled then at the foot of his bed, not sure of what to feel. He didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry, his emotions were in turmoil. He remembered a tear had trickled down his cheek.
“Magus…”
He uttered the name now has he had five years ago, still unsure of how to feel. He felt no joy at the death of the tortured wizard, he felt towards Magus no hate, nor was Glenn disappointed that he had not been the one to bring the melancholy prince to his final rest. He felt none of these things, but something ached inside his soul that could not quite be described as sadness. It was more of a burning, empty hole. One that would never be filled.
The horse he rode nickered at some unseen creature in the brush. Snapped out of his reverie, Glenn halted his mount and drew his sword. He waited, ready for an attack…none came, of course. After a moment he began to feel stupid.
His nervousness was an old habit, and he often felt foolish for it. The dark time of danger had long passed. No doubt it was just a fox or bird hiding in the shrub. Besides, he didn’t have time to be jumping at shadows. He had to make it to the nearby town of Lenstahn by noon. He had another mile to ride and the sun was already almost directly overhead. Glenn sighed and sheathed his sword, looking at the sky. Then he urged his mare into a steady trot. Glenn wondered why the sacred Order of Wizard Hunters had asked him to come to Lenstahn. Things had been so peaceful there was really no need for the Ein’deresch anymore… or him for that matter. The Hunters were probably jumping at foxes in the brush just as he was, wishing for some foe to attack. The only enemy they faced now was uselessness and boredom.
Lulled by the smooth gait of his mount and the warm sun on his back, Glenn drifted into back into his memories.
When he had told Marle, Lucca, and Crono that he was sure Magus was dead, they had all reacted in the same, awkward manner that he had. Finally, after a long pause, Crono had spoken.
“I hope he’s finally found rest. I’m sorry none of us could have done more to help him.” His voice had been monotone and flat. Lucca started crying a little, though Marle was silent.
Thinking about his friends made Glenn realize he’d be seeing them again soon. Using the Epoch, they came to stay for a week once every five years. Despite the sorrowful news he’d had for them on their last visit, they had enjoyed themselves. Glenn wondered if Marle and Crono had finally married yet. Thinking of Lucca brought a burning flush to his cheeks. He wondered if she felt the same way about him that he did about her. Maybe he’d have a better chance now that he was a man instead of a frog. He began to go over in his mind how he would tell her of his feelings.
Glenn was so lost in his thoughts that it startled him a little when a rabbit ran across the path of his steed, spooking the horse into crow-hopping a few steps. Glenn was almost pitched off the back of his horse, but managed to regain his senses fast enough to hang on.
Finally, the mare stopped bucking and stood still. Glenn sighed. “You’re almost as bad as I am. Jumping at rabbits… we’ve seen too much war, my friend,” he said, giving the horse an affectionate pat.
From atop the hill where they stood, Glenn could see all the way down into the lush valley where the little village was nestled. Faintly, he could hear the sounds of the people in the market place as they bickered over prices. Now and then he could make out the laughter of children and the barking of dogs as they ran playing. He smiled to himself. It wasn’t often he went to towns. He liked his privacy of his cottage in the woods, but having people around was nice sometimes too. He started his horse down the path towards the village of Lenstahn.
The children spotted him halfway down the hill and they ran to greet him. Visitors were a rare , especially a knight on horseback. The children swarmed around Glenn, laughing and asking him so many questions at once he couldn’t get a word in to answer. He smiled at the ensemble, amused at their curiosity.
“Settle down!” he laughed. “Why don’t you all go find Krischtiahn and tell him Glenn from Gaurdia is here! Whoever does it fastest will get a gold dollar!” He chuckled as they raced away, almost tripping over their own feet in the effort to win the gold dollar.
It wasn’t five minutes later that Krischtiahn himself, escorted by three young paladins, rode up mounted on a white stallion. He was a tall, stately man, getting on in age but still firm in body and mind. His bald head gleamed in the sunlight and his dark brown eyes lighted up when he saw his old friend. He smiled when he greeted the knight from Gaurdia.
“Glenn of the Masamune! I am honored, surely!” He bowed his head and then smiled again. “You had a good journey, I hope?”
“ Yes, very… uh…” Glenn struggled to find the right word.
One of the young paladins spoke up. “ I think you mean…Boring, sir?” he had a small smirk on his face. Krischtiahn shot him a warning look, but Glenn only laughed.
“I’m afraid so. Not much to fear these days, I guess.”
The group was silent for a moment, all understanding deeper meaning hidden in the joking words from the knight. At length, the young paladin who spoke up extended his hand towards Glenn.
“I am Rennard of Midvalley, Sir Glenn. I am very much blessed to meet a legend such as yourself!” The young paladin’s face glowed as Glenn took his hand and shook it firmly.
“A legend?! You have a good sense of humor, Rennard!” Glenn replied with a twinkle in his eye. He studied the young Hunter for a moment. His gray eyes danced with mischief but not with ill intent. He had flaxen hair he wore shoulder length and was solid of build. Despite this, Glenn could tell he was still only in his teen years. He was even younger than Crono had been when Glenn had met him. “How many years are you, young Hunter?” he asked the boy.
Rennard blushed. “I am not yet sixteen, Sir Glenn. I am young, but I am not afraid of any wizard!” He puffed his chest out and tried to look brave. The other paladins snickered a little. Krischtiahn coughed in his fist and tried to suppress a giggle. Rennard looked around, flustered.
Glenn grinned at him warmly. “ I like you Rennard, you remind me of a close friend. Would you care to ride alongside me as we enter the village? I was almost done in my a wild pack of children a little earlier… I fear for my safety, I’m afraid.”
The group had a good chuckle at this as Rennard, alongside Krischtiahn, escorted Glenn into the village.
The whole village was outside, awaiting their arrival eagerly. The children had spread the word of the visiting knight quicker than wildfire, and the adults were caught up in the excitement. As the small band entered the town, the adults fired questions at Glenn almost as fast as the children had. Before Glenn could even begin to reply, he heard a loud voice bellow out.
“PLEASE!” Krischtiahn shouted over the crowd. He went on after the townsfolk quieted somewhat, “This is Sir Glenn from Gaurdia, knight of the legendary Masamune. He has had a long journey and wishes to rest now. We will inform you later of the reason for his visit here. But don’t hound him with questions!”
The disgruntled citizens wandered off, still wondering why the legendary knight had come to their small, boring town.
Krischtiahn led Glenn to the inn. The innkeeper, Baluf, was a huge bear of a man, but he had a good sense of humor laughed in a booming voice as he brought the group a round of beer. Glenn drained his mug in one gulp, bringing applause from the amused innkeeper.
“Well done Sir Glenn! Teach these boys how to drink beer like a real Hunter!” he laughed heartily and slapped Glenn on the back so hard Glenn almost fell off his seat. Baluf blushed a little in embarrassment as Glenn righted himself. When he saw the smaller man was all right, Baluf grinned widely. “I’ll be making up your room now, Sir Knight!” He ran off to prepare the best sleeping quarters in the inn.
Glenn smiled after him, but then turned to the Hunters with a serious look on his face. “Why have you summoned me, Sir Krischtiahn? I hope there’s not been any trouble?”
Krischtiahn looked troubled as he stared down at his mug of beer. He took a long swallow and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Krischtiahn looked over at Glenn and sighed, shaking his head thoughtfully. “Well, not trouble exactly,” he began, “but… well, I’d rather show you tomorrow after you’ve had a good nights sleep. It can wait until then.” He sat up and the three young paladins did the same. “ You need a good night’s rest, Glenn. If you’d like, I’ll send young Rennard to fetch you tomorrow in the morning. He can guide you to the Temple.”
Rennard grinned widely at the idea. “I’d be glad to do it, sir!” he exclaimed before Glenn could answer. Everyone chuckled a little and Rennard felt his face burn a little, though his embarrassment could not overcome his joy at the privilege of escorting the prestigious knight to the Temple.
“That would be most kind of you, young Rennard.” Glenn said.
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