What Makes a Monster

A Call from a Common Courier

    The summons came through the rain on horseback, a courier with the royal emblem embroidered on his breast sat atop a chestnut mare, clutching to her mane like a fawn on his hooves for the first time. The young boy was quite the foil to his mare, who strode into the town with bravado and pride while the quivering boy was the portraiture of anxiety. Sliding off his horse with the grace of a bedraggled, wet bird, he shook like a dog and stumbled into the warmth of the Inn. 
   
Nervously and uncertain, he made his way to the bar, leaving a trail of muddy bootprints in his wake, his muddied steps adjoining the tens of others who sought refuge from the storm that evening. Sitting heavily on a barstool, the young man took a few deep breaths, catching what he’d lost on the back of an over-confident mare. 
   
“What can I get’cha, lad?” a deep, warm voiced man asked from behind the bar. His whole face was covered in a thick mop of reddish-brown hair, his shaggy hair hanging over his eyes, almost seeming to blend with his scruffy beard. The courier started from the stupor of exhaustion, smiling weakly to the Innkeep.
   
“Got anything warm?” He asked meekly, and the innkeep laughed warmly. 
   
“Storm’ll chill yer bones, won’t it? Damn Grostag Mountains and their winds. ‘Least it ain’t snowin’.” The two shared a tired chuckle and nod, “I’ll get’cha some cider, how’s about that? And on the house… seems you’ve had a long journey, lad.” His eyes (although obscured by hair) flicked to the man’s embroidered emblem, then back to his face. All the way from Vesslihelm, the capital city of the Kingdom of Abrotan. A long way from home.

He returned with a glass of warm cider, placing it in front of the boy. “What brings ya’ from Vesslihelm, lad?” The boy looked up and nodded his thanks before taking a long sip of warm cider. 
   
“I’m looking for a woman. Brunette woman, scar on the left side of her lip, strong build, green eyes. King has a summon for her.” 
   
“The Birdwhistle Lass?” The Innkeep said with a glimmer of recognition at the description.
   
“Yes, I believe that was her surname?”
   
“Jaime!” he called out, voice booming over the group of rowdy tavern goers.

A woman in the corner surrounded by other townspeople perked up, her mint-green eyes shimmering with a lioness’s determination. 
   
“You’ll have to excuse me,” She said quietly, standing up. She walked over to the bar, a beer stein in her leather gloved hand. “What’cha need, Roman?” Her clothing was that of a rider, leather pants with a pale, white blouse tucked in. A pale leather jerkin laced in the front, worn from battle with scratches and scrapes. Not the usual attire for a woman of the rural towns in the shadows of the Grostag Mountains. 
   
“This lad says he has a summons from the king.” Roman, the innkeep reported to her. 
   
“Jaime Birdwhistle,” The boy started, clearing his throat and unfolding a letter from his pocket, “You are hereby invited to the Palace in Vesslihelm by order of the King, his highness among the Gods and he decreed to rule this Godsgiven kingdom of Abrotan, King Theodulf II. A monster plagues the northern reaches of the land, and his Highness has called upon your steel along with others of renown across the land of Abrotan. The one to bring back the head of the beast shall be knighted and given lordship over the vessel state of Epra where the beast has taken roost. The feast to commemorate the assignment shall be held on the second day of the Month of Summer.” The courier coughed a little when he finished, his voice clearly not used to projecting as much. Nervously, he passed the letter to Jaime. Shock overtook the young woman’s face, then confusion, then bewildered pride. 
   
“The king… the King has requested my presence.” She repeated, voice quiet (although unintentionally loud due to the simple projection of her voice.)
   
“Aye lass, seems that’s what’s happenin’.” Roman responded, a matter-of-fact tone to his voice as he wiped down a mug. 
   
“To… to kill a monster.” 
   
“Aye. Why’re you so damn shocked, lass? The Hound of Windsdale was put down at’chyer blade. Not to mention that horde o’ no good bastards… er, I think the Black Rats they called ‘emselves? Yer a damn good swordswoman, Jaime. Gotch’er head on right, something not many in this damn town can say fer themselves.”  
   
“Well then. I suppose I’ll have to ride out tomorrow evening if I hope to get to Vesslihelm by Summer!” She seemed to jump out of her skin with the prickling excitement. “Roman, a round for everyone!” The tavern burst into rambunctious cheers at the news, and a pair of bards in the corner started up with a high energy jig on their lute ad violin. All through the night, folk from the town filtered in and out, the energy maintaining until dawn when it lulled. The future knighthood candidate had already retired home, thrown herself onto her bed, and fallen into a deep sleep. 

***

    Come morning, she rose, rubbing her face to try and loose the exhaustion from her cheeks. Eyes struggling to open, as her lids still felt like lead. She sat up from the furs which covered her as a beam of bright, morning light was thrown upon her as the curtains were wrenched open.

“Arimir! It’s far too early for that!” She barked, rubbing her eyes. When they finally obeyed her command to open, her pale green glare settled straight on the young boy who stood abashedly averting his gaze by the window. 
   
“Come on, Jaim.” He said, seeming to hide from her playful glare beneath a mop of black hair, shaggy like a sheepdog. “It’s already almost noon. If you’re going to want to make it all the way to Vesslihelm by next week, you’ll need to get outta here today!” Arimir tossed a dressing gown at Jaime, who caught it deftly, wrapping it around herself, and shooing the other out before getting dressed. 
   
She dressed with a loosely binding leather piece around her chest, then in leather riding pants, a pale blouse, her worn tan jerkin, and hooked a necklace around her neck, the amulet being a large, yellowed fang- the fang of the Hound of Windsdale. She pulled on armored boots, her gloves and gauntlets, and chainmail shirt before putting on the final layer, the leather, studded shirt embroidered with a red hawk swooping on her breasts. She tied her brown hair back in a messy bun, then examined herself in the mirror. Looping the black, leather belt in her pants, she smiled, sheathing her bastard sword which until then sat propped against her bed in it’s scabbard. Her mare, Bruna, was already prepared save for being saddled, but the rest of Jaime’s armor and her shield were already on the saddlebags. 
   
“Ari, don’t barge in on me. It was a long night!” She griped as she left her room, looking to the shaggy boy. 
   
“Wouldn’t’ve been a long night if you didn’t drink ‘till the moon was high, Jaim. That’s on you.” He chuckled at the offense on her face, the eye roll thankfully hidden from her as he turned back to the fireplace where he cooked up venison for the lunch. 
   
“So…” she began, sounding almost timid, “Arimir, a knight in the court is supposed to have a squire… a companion." 
       
"Aye. I'll miss ya when you're gone. Ever since we met I've been at your side-" 

"And I, yours. Which is why I'm asking you to come with. Always said you want to learn to fight alongside me. Yes, it's far too dangerous often… but adventure seems to be where I'm headed… no better time than now, ay?" 

Arimir stared across the table at Jaime, who simply stared back. Neither seemed to quite grasp the honesty in or the severity of what she'd just asked respectively. 

    "Jaime… you- you want me to join you on this… for lack of a better word, quest?"

    "Yes. More than anyone else. I'm going to travel across the kingdom, and I'm going to places I've only ever read about and doing things I've only ever dreamed about. Who better to share this with than the man I grew up dreaming with?" She leaned forward, a small smile creasing the corners of her eyes. 

    "Ever since Pa adopted me, you've had my back. Hells- before that even! When we first met, it was because you had mg back! Never in my life have I met another person who cared so much for his fellow man. Your compassion for even the worst people astounds me. Your quick thinking would be far from useless on this quest. And… I can't imagine doing this without you." For a moment, all was silent, and yet the air held a wet hum as if the crackle of the fireplace itself were about to cry, a single ashen tear rolling down. 

"Fine," he resigned, the word more choked out that the young man had intended. "You've convinced me Jaim." He found himself embraced roughly by the taller woman, who he hugged back briefly before shoving her off. 

"Shit! Jaim! Watch out!" 

He laughed as he felt an ember hit his hand as she'd accidentally pushed him towards the flames. 

"Sorry, I got a little… fired up." The two cackled as the venison finished, tears rolling free finally as they laughed so hard that their diaphragms cramped.