Serellia (Everlasting Legends, Book 2)

Ch. 1 - Something Lost, Something Found

Hasdalph 6th, year 1169 – Homenil, Serellia

Morning fog still hung heavy over the waters of Alton Bay, rolling down from the hills and forests inland. The overcast weather made everything slow and lethargic, even the sailors, who were used to the gloomy weather of Serellia's east port.

While the fishermen worked to ready their vessels for a day's work, they hardly noticed that there was something already drifting out in the still gray waters of the bay.

A small piece of driftwood, the remnants of a vessel, had been carried in with the morning tide. While regrettable, it wasn't an uncommon find, nor was it big enough to be a concern.

One resident, however, did take notice of the debris—a raven, white as a ghost. Its red eyes had caught the shine of polished metal from where it patrolled the skies high above the bay and wasted no time swooping in to land upon the motionless form splayed upon the floating wreckage.

The corvid pulled at one of the buttons on the boy's fine jacket, with no regard for the dead, taking several moments to loosen it, a credit to the Lorellian craftsmanship.

The threads had just snapped when the boy, who it turned out was not dead, weakly swatted at the bird. But the raven had its prize, fluttering into the air to race back to its roost.

Past the docks and the town, the white raven carried its reward to the grounds of a wealthy estate, coming to land on the sill of the highest open window.

Inside it hopped, trotting across the desk and papers of the young lord, who was far too busy to even bother shooing him away, as he returned to his tiny nest, where he began to energetically rearrange the many trinkets that he had there, making space for his latest trophy.

Just as the raven was putting the finishing touches on his nest, the new button was snatched up by the sickly looking noble.

"What have you there? Hmm? If you've stolen from–" his words cut short, as he studied the emblem on the button. It wasn't Serellian. Not at all. But it was royal. A breath later, the young man was shrugging on his coat as he raced down the stairs.

"Mr. Aldin!"

"Yes, young master?"

"My horse," he stated as he was already going for his hat and riding boots. "At once! I wish to go to town!"

"Yes, Sir," the servant replied, though never in his many years working for the Cullach family had he ever heard Bhalthier so insistent on going into public. He nevertheless did as he asked, and saw that the groom had Bhalthier's horse brought around to the front.

Once he was at the docks, it didn't take Bhalthier long to spot several men gathered around the very thing he was looking for. Or rather, the very person.

"Is he alive?" Bhalthier asked as he approached them, only to stop short and back up a step when all of the men shifted their attention to him.

"Barely. Poor lad," said one of the men.

"What'ya suppose happened?" asked another.

"Lorellian, frum the looks of em, but ner'Lorellian ships docks here fer the past few days," the dockmaster suggested around the end of his pipe.

"Have him brought to the Citadel clerics for tending... I'll cover the charge," Bhalthier said as he began to back away from the group.

"Citadel clerics?" one of the sailors exclaimed.

"Means he's important ta someone..." the dockmaster grumbled as he puffed out a plume of smoke. "Well, ya heard the man... Get 'em up and over ta the clerics. One less troublesome thing I have ta worry bout, the better!"