A Castle Cries

     "Yes, dear. The Baron was very important to White River, and it's only respectful to pay our dues now that he has passed. Faeries bless his soul, he gave up so much for the village." Her mother looked amusedly at her young daughter, her white scales flushed with the heat from the muggy day. “Why don’t you use your wings to fan yourself sweetie,” she murmured.

     And so they continued on, from their small shabby farm outside of the town's edge to the gates of the rotting Keep. She didn't want to admit it to her mother, but the place gave her the creeps, and she wanted nothing to do with the ceremony or the events planned out. She firmed her resolve and straightened her back once they got close, and she spotted Draikslye among the crowd, as charming and dashing as ever. The errant knight had spotted her as well, but pretended to be oblivious, as he had not gotten permission from her parents to associate with her yet; and it wasn't looked upon fondly for two young folk to be seen without a crowd around them.

     Provost, the town mayor, stood on the hastily built stage and spoke briefly, yet warmly of the former Baron; and quickly laid out the schedule for the day:

     Folks were to sign the guestbook that would be put away for the castle's next owners, to express their pending allegiance to the new Lord. There would be food booths, a juggler, a puppet play, and a very rare treat of Sparkleberry Juice for all. The usual fair games would be set up all around the castle as well; Turdle Racing, Mortogs, Potato Counting, a miniature Cheese Roller, Shapeshifter, and more. Just before the official supper, an epigraph and speeches would be made in the Baron's honour.

     A short time later, the rest of Draikriel’s family showed up, her father and sister, and she left her mom with the littles while exploring the different booths. All the shopkeepers from Meridell were there, there were even some that had travelled from Darigan Citadel and Brightvale to take part. “Maybe the Baron was someone important after all..” she thought to herself. Being that she only had a few small Neopoints to spend, she was very careful in her purchases. A broach for her dress, since hers had broken, some beads and ribbon for her flower displays in the town marketplace, and while she desired it; she didn’t buy the beaten up, and slightly rusty dagger that was in her price range; as she still wasn’t allowed to practice her weapons skills. Her father’s warning glance was all that it took for her to leave the booth hurriedly.

     An old Kau’s horn was blown three times to signify the official start to the solemnities at hand. Madame Mayor introduced herself and gave a small speech that talked about her interactions with the Baron while he had been alive, and how they would meet regularly to discuss issues in the town. She reminisced on how gentle and kind he was to her when she had first arrived in White River, and how grateful she was for his quiet confidence in her. Once she had finished, she introduced General Galgarroth, and Sally, who both had many glowing things to say about the recently departed Baron.

     Draikriel’s manner had deflated quickly during the Mayor’s speech, and by the time the General had started his portion of the ceremony, she’d slipped out of the crowd to explore the dilapidated castle remains. She’d had to distract some of the guards, who were also very drowsy under the sticky summer’s heat, to slip into the castle’s cool stone interior. As she did; all the sweat dripping down the middle of her back turned cold, and her rough cotton dress began to dry out. She waited in the large room, which appeared to have once been a sitting room, for her eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. This part of the castle had been abandoned when the Baron’s only son didn’t return from the war 20 years ago. The musty smell of rotten fabrics and the acrid smell of Symol droppings told her that no one had been in the room for a very long time.

     She made out the shapes of some formerly fine furnishings, a settee, a few fur-lined chairs, and benches along the walls. She scanned the walls and found three exits (other than the one she’d come through, but two were fully blocked; so she wandered to the one on her right, and examined the fallen stones, to see if she could safely pass or not. The stones were pretty unstable and wobbly, even covered in the dust and moss; so she tucked her skirt into her belt and carefully hovered and floated through the small opening into the hallway beyond.

     The air in the hallway was cleaner and fresher; but still old. She wandered down, watching for rodents scurrying along the half-eaten carpets running down the middle. Along the walls were an assortment of displays, tapestries, and paintings from the long history of the Baron’s family. She paused to view some; but never dallying long, she didn’t want to get caught. Just then, she saw a large shape moving around ahead of her, so she ducked into an alcove; which turned out to be a set of stairs. Worried that the shape was a guard that she’d tricked, she hurried up the steps, as quietly as she could. It turned into another hallway; upon which she stumbled into a large sunroom. The windows had long been broken and shuttered, but the coverings were beginning to show need of repair, and sunlight crept in through many holes, giving the floor a dappled pattern of beams. She started to walk towards the window, to see if she could view the courtyard from here, as she had gotten very turned around when, with a large crack, the floor beneath her gave out, and she and the rotten beams and wood fell down to the level below.

     She lay there for what felt like hours, but must have only been a few moments when she started looking around and found that the noise had brought someone! As the blur rushed towards her, she sighed with relief that it wasn’t a guard, but it was Sir Draikslye! He expressed some concern, but Draikriel assured him she was only dirty and maybe a few small cuts and bruises. He moved the stones and broken rubble away from where she lay and did a gentle once over to make sure. After he concluded she was right, he helped Draikriel to her feet and sheepishly admitted he’d been curious too and had snuck in at a different point.

     United in their curiosity, the game of finding something new to look at began. Together they explored many more rooms, and at last, stumbled upon what must have been the Baron’s old room. There was a chest, which was unlocked but closed tight. Draikslye pried it open with one of his knives, and to their surprise, it wasn’t gold or jewellery that lay within, but something much more precious. Letters from the Baron’s lost son…

     They began reading through them and soon understood why the chest had been hidden away.

     Father,

      The war is going well. Myself and some other young men from our neighbouring villages have become fast friends and are eager to see battle. The Captain tells us that tomorrow we will march for a village to the East where the enemy has been dug-in for over a month now. We’ll make short work of driving them out.

      I look forward to returning home with many medals to make you proud.

      Your Son,

      White River Knight

     ---------------

     Father,

      We have won our first battle! We fought for three long days but eventually succeeded in freeing the tiny village from the Darigan army. Their soldiers were ruthless beasts, they fought like animals, no strategy, just attack. Our training and discipline won the day.

      We didn’t follow the enemy today, but tomorrow we are heading in the direction they retreated. Word is they are making a final stand in a village at the eastern border or Meridell. But Jaron has devised a plan with the Kind, and soon this war will be over. I’m looking forward to playing my part in our triumph.

      Your Son,

      White River Knight

      ---------------

     Father,

      The march to our current camp was long and difficult. The men are physically exhausted. Yet there’s still an eagerness that runs through the camp - talk of the final battle plan devised by Jaron himself stirs such excitement, everyone is ready to do their part for the honour of Meridell.

      Tomorrow we march for victory!

      I look forward to returning home and regaling you with tales of our triumph.

      Your Son,

      White River Knight

      ---------------

      Placed on the very top was a notification from the Meridell Army announcing that the White River Knight had been killed in action and that they offered their condolences, a sum of money still attached to the letter served as a stipend for the relatives of the deceased. The paper was tear-stained and rumpled, tattered from being wadded up, smoothed out and folded many times over.

     So much sadness for the Baron flooded their hearts and spilt onto their cheeks. They neatly tucked away the letters, and the chest again and made their way back to the main courtyard, just in time to avoid being missed. As she rejoined her family, she endured her mother’s loving and concerned glare and just hugged her tight. Draikriel’s mother let it go, and they joined the rest at the long tables set up with a fine feast to remember the Baron.

     The End.