#I already love Hamlet and his design and demeanor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

talesofealdancynedom · 4 years

Photo

Patrick, riding his familiar Orion, in fairy robes; As baby of the family, the first illustration must be at maximum cute.

Tale 18: Patrick Monabellan & the Paladins (chapter 2 - snowy Slopes 2/4) part 3. Stories of True Love

none

Patrick thought going to a magic forest, to be its protector, was as closest thing that fit the three things he wanted to live by: being a paladin, a mage, and a wolf. Grand Snow was high up, took a two-week quarantine before entering, and hosted a village that preserved a Westlander’s way of life from the dark ages. Patrick admittedly missed modern plumbing, computers and electricity. Now he chopped his own fire wood to stay warm; and the winters got cold up in the Westland mountains. The best accommodations Ouroboros, the designated Dragon mage, could give him, was a cabin along the north slopes. Ouroboros was more than happy to help another one of his friend’s children; now that him and Morgan were in-laws. Patrick didn’t want to hear any gushing over his older sister’s accomplishments, but Ouroboros wouldn’t be quiet about the happy union.

Ouroboros, and his wife Saianne were both mages, and the village didn’t need another. Immediately anyway. Ouroboros was the heartman healer and village doctor; He had studied midwifery due to the traumatizing maternal and infancy mortality rates in his home village. He was proud of his dedication to supporting big happy families. It caught everyone off guard, as between the khol, golden eyes, and black spiked dragon robes, Ouroboros looked like a menace. He was also a hugger and confident ditz. Patrick received a lot of hugs from him. Meanwhile, Saianne was a charmer, who sang to the glacier lake each week. She wanted to be a lifeguard and fulfill her pact with the selkie that enfayed her, to which prevented her from going grey dark. Saianne’s trance like magic state was triggered by bodies of water, where she automatically summoned The Black, Beating, Hex Waters of The Deep. She didn’t say much to Patrick. As passive casters, neither Ouroboros or Saianne had the skill of a paladin. A magic peace officer might prove useful.

Everyone agreed a magic forest post, a passive guard, was a good place for Patrick to be. He needed somewhere he would be accepted, could forget the world, and be himself. A mage needs a magic forest, and a magic forest needs a mage. Or three; whose counting. Ouroboros also mentioned Patrick could flirt with any lady he desired; to add to their small gene pool. The isolated hamlet of Grand Snow didn’t see many new faces. Morgan and Ouroboros abused some connections, to get Patrick into the restricted heritage area. They played the genetic variance gag to one Ragnar Goldenscale; who managed the heritage site. Unlike Cadence, he wasn’t there for an apprenticeship or had connections to the people. An immense amount of pleading a buttering, on Ouroboro’s part, was all it took for Ragnar to clear the papers. To make Patrick feel more welcome, Ouroboros added that if Patrick needed a doctor, he was a marvelous healer, blessed with the healing flames of Quellelthan. Patrick had never received such a warm welcome. It’s nice to have someone in your life that is so clueless and loving, that don’t care about you character flaws.

Patrick, and his wolf familiar Orion, now lived a peaceful quiet existence alongside the village folk and fey. The people here really liked mages and fey; but they never used magic themselves. There were no wizards, but everyone was content to be surrounded by magic. It was so different and surreal at first. He was so used to people fearing fey. Magic forests seemed to foster a traditional peaceful coexistence across the lands. It felt a lot like home. Patrick got so comfortable, he decided to take Ouroboros up on his offer, and started courting a local lady. Holly Goldenscale was the one who led people through the mountain pass. Their cabins were close, and they would often pass while going about their lives on the slopes Patrick patrolled. If Patrick wasn’t directly assigned to protect here as she did her job. They crossed paths so often, they began to recognize and visit each other. Initially, a man in furs riding a wolf, in the middle of a wintery nowhere, would deter a maiden. But gosh he was easy on the eyes to holly, and more charismatic than a golden Labrador. Patrick had his mother’s pale hair, and his father’s forest green eyes, freckles and stature. A puppy like demeanor that hid his feral nature. Holly on the other hand, had ice blue eyes, blonde hair, as a typical example of the Westland’s and people of Grand Snow. The Grand Snow people in particular, were adapted for cold, high altitude, magic forest dwelling. Such a small population made them quickly adapt, and any visitor exotic. However, a potential mate is not what Holly was originally after; it was curiosity at a newcomer. Not that she wasn’t pressured into having a daughter. Grand Snow was cursed to be protected by an unnavigable barrier around the valley’s mountains. Not even fey and mages could cross its enchanted slopes. Only the daughters of the mage Solomon Gydenwyvern, could navigate it. Holly was the end of the line. Which is why Holly and her mother, sister, and grandmother were in charge of leading anyone in or out of Grand Snow. They were the only ones who were able to communicate with the outside world. Thus, she was always passing by Patrick on her way to and from guiding people; they both spent a lot of time wandering the woods of the valley.

One day, Holly decided to follow Patrick, until he disappeared into the thicket. Only to reappear and lead her back to the village. He wanted an excuse to talk to her. It was his familiar Orion’s idea. According to him. Holly liked Orion; two good boys for the price of one. Holly and Patrick had work in the village that day; buying food and supplies, and maybe enjoying some mead. When they were ready to go home, they decided to go back to Patrick’s cabin, after dropping of Holly’s goods at her family cabin. It was an excuse to ride Orion. Even after a day together, they weren’t done with each other’s company; they were having so much fun. It was night, and Patrick took Holly to is shack, which was heated by a fire wildling who slept in his hearth; cribbed properly in wood. Holly had only seen ice wildlings before, and was enchanted. Holly gasped when Patrick didn’t burn his hand giving it a cookie. They began to take off their coats, now that they were out of the night air, and she finally got to see Patrick with his hood down. Holly realized the common folk, such as her, had no idea how young Patrick was; he was maybe two summers younger than her. Holly assumed, that because he was a trained paladin, he would look more graduated; instead of recently independent. This train of thought didn’t last long, as they promptly fell asleep after demolishing a loaf of bread and fresh butter.

Holly was pleased to visit Patrick’s home often, and he would make it so she could easily follow him; like an unspoken game of tag. They would leave tracks for each other, or tie ribbons on the tree fey that made up the forest. The chances of them being so compatible, as they came from such different lives, seemed small. The wildling’s fire, and the smell of the pine wood from the cabin, complimented the waft of hide and dried herbs in the hut, as they lay on the couch. It was made of carved sanded wood, and muslin filled with phoenix down. Cuddling was Patrick’s third favourite activity, ever since he was little; his affectionate nature never lifting. He was tender when not in conflict. Patrick loved swaddling Holly in furs he treated, from the food he caught and ate. Patrick said he hunted with his pack, which composed of: him, his familiar Orion, some village hunting dogs, and a Aliki wolf prince that lived nearby. It was hard to believe he wielded any of the swords along his wall. Holly already knew a lot of magic lore, but asked him where he got them, and what he used them for;

“My father’s cousin is a warlock, aunt Reggie. She made me special winter steel and silver tools. The blue one is what I used for ice magic in school, and the singing silver axe I use to chop wood. Though, I know some people who would think poorly of me using rare singing silver on lumber… Oh, and the wood one down there, is the one my father taught me to use a sword with when I was a child” Patrick laughed. “Actually, a lot of mage paladins I grew up with taught me a thing or two with that keepsake.”

Holly also visited, because loved his stories; and that night she asked him for his most embarrassing one. Swords and fey were nice, but she wanted to know why Patrick was a paladin when he seemed to never hurt a single thing.

“Not the paladin type eh? And a story without magic? Oh boy. You know what, Holly, I haven’t told you about my father, have I? I bet Ouroboros and Saianne just referred to him as another mage friend from school. My sister, Cadence, was probably too shy to talk to you. Well, aside from him teaching me how to use a blade…. Dad is…. Kind of, the most scattered, nervous, dork ever.” Patrick wince.

“Then how’d a mook sire something powerful like you?” she tempted.

“Oh no, he’s very powerful and talented. He became King Mage when his was fourteen; by accident. He wanted to get away from his abusive family situation, and found comfort in fey and the shadow veil. His familiar is a golden eagle, who is wise, and dad would ride him everywhere. And father treated my mother like a princess… My dad, he’s just, a huge nerd. It always embarrassed me to be in public with him. Any magic question turned into monologue of ancient mythical legends; it made him sparkle like a small boy. You know, the childlike wonder thing some people get around magic…. Also, because he was King Mage, people kept challenging him, fearing him, or asking him for answers. He is a nervous wreck otherwise; letting his anxiety overwhelm him. He could do anything, but instead lives in a tower reading and writing books. I have no clue how someone can be fearless, knowable, shy, forgetful, and be scrambled at the same time.” Patrick said, slowly becoming stunned by his words. His father, Morgan, was the one person he never admitted was one of his heroes. Patrick passed the ‘my parents are people’ stage before puberty. He was so focused on paladin studies, he forgot what a mystical and loving home life he had. He felt lucky. Holly saw Patrick drifting off, and nudged in closer.

“How about a nice tale about you and your father, then? Prove to me this powerful wise mage is an awkward mess?” Holly prompted.

NEXT--->

<---PREVIOUS

#art #tales of ealdan cynedom #short stories #fantasy #story 18 #patrick #holly #ouroboros #morgan #emilia #ragnar #saianne #quellelithan #orion

0 notes