Alaeha's Story

[Katzaniel]

Walking down the gravelly path to home, Alaeha paused a moment. There under the oak, nearly hidden by the long grass at its base, was a purple flower. Carefully making her way across the growth, Alaeha gasped in excitement. Its petals were perfectly formed, the delicate shades aesthetically pleasing, and the stalk strong. Gently freeing the roots, the young girl's mind raced forward to the joy she knew it would provoke in her father when he saw it. Their joint garden, so varied in its splendour, had until today lacked any purple living thing.

 

Holding the flower in her trembling hands, Alaeha finished the journey home. Painstakingly she transferred the organism to a single hand so that she could open the door. Then, jumping back in surprise at the sight that met her eyes, Alaeha nearly dropped it. There stood her father, donning his full suit of armour, a grim look on his face.

 

The seven-year old knew immediately what it must be. Her mother had told stories of her father's past exploits, sung beautiful tunes that bards had written of his heroics. But he had not left them for an adventure for a few years, and to Alaeha that was nearly a lifetime.

 

The girl stared at him and without really realizing it, sat down. The hand holding the precious flower sunk to her side and she just looked forward at her father. Surely he couldn't be leaving them. Why would he want to leave them again?

 

The next hour was filled with the same explanation, said by her father with varying gentle tones, and the same confusion, registered by Alaeha through her tears. She heard the words but could not comprehend their implications. As a result, the conversation would ever be blurry in her memory. All she would ever know was that her father had decided he must be noble. He would go out and slay a dragon for the townspeople. He had done it many times in his youth. And he would be back.

 

He would be back. Father had never before left a promise unfulfilled. Of course he would be back, if he said so.

 

Alaeha sat there for a long time, staring at the flower in her hands. She had not even been able to tell him about it. Her mother entered the room and hugged the girl, explaining again why this was necessary. Of course Jolar was skilled and he would return by nightfall, once again a hero for the town. In the meantime, she urged, perhaps the two of them could plant the pretty flower that Alaeha was holding, and surprise her father in the morning?

 

Aleyn came too, wandering barefoot in the cool mud. Alaeha could almost forgot where her father was gone - tomorrow she would show him the garden's addition and Aleyn would giggle and pretend he'd planted it, and her mother would disappear to the back of the room and let Alaeha take the credit. Of course Jolar would know both that Aleyn had not helped and that his wife had, but it would be all right because they would water the flower together and everything would go back to normal.

 

That night her mother sung another song about Jolar. The dark of the room was filled with the intricate tune and for Alaeha the world melted away into a cacophany of images and sound. Yes, she could be so proud of her father. She fell asleep dreaming of his many wonderful deeds, and the calmness with which her mother took it all.

 

Sleep was not hers for long, however. The silence was interupted by the sound of the gate squeaking open. For a moment Alaeha was disoriented; where had her mother gone? Then she her heavy footsteps and she rushed to the window. It was dark, but she could make out a man with a cane, cutting across the garden to get to the front door. She heard her mother going to the door and opening it, and quickly went to listen under the door to their whispered voices. What she caught was not words but a general tone and when the man had gone again, tapping his cane with every step, Alaeha ran out of the room to her mother.

 

Arierdre was crying, and the tears streamed out of Alaeha's eyes as she approached her. They embraced and it was a long time before either spoke. A valiant fight, her mother said, more to comfort herself than the young girl crying in her lap. He'd nearly killed it, she repeated though she suspected the man was lying in order to comfort her, when a freak accident gave the dragon the opportunity it needed. She never said aloud that he was dead, but Alaeha didn't need to ask. She knew.

 

Aleyn tottered out at one point was Arierdre claimed that nothing was wrong and told him to go to bed. He looked at Alaeha who tried to hide her tears and nodded. The boy mumbled something and left. It was a mark of her mother's shock that she did not go to tuck him in again, but he must not have noticed because soon his light breathing could be heard in the unusually silent house.

 

After a while, Alaeha left her mother and returned to bed. She tried to stay awake but her wet eyelids were drooping with exhaustion and she eventually slept. When she did wake, the sun was high and she leapt from bed, frantic that she had failed, and missed being there to help in whatever way her mother needed.

 

Searching the house hurriedly, the young girl finally discovered her mother outside, conferring with yet another man. This one had slick black hair and squinting eyes, but no cane. They stood well back from the garden but something drew Alaeha's eyes there anyway; immediately they picked out the crushed violet petals, victims of the carelessness of last night's visitor.

 

Her mother's call brought her attention back to the current situation. This man, she was told, would within the week bring herself and Aleyn to the Singer's Sanctuary. He knelt and spoke to her, in childish tones that made him sound more moronic than friendly. Alaeha didn't pay much attention anyway. In the back of her mind she was watching her world fall apart, and spinning dangerously fast in the center of the image was her father, the broken stem of a purple flower in one hand.