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The Helfa Fawr

Chapter One

By Nicholas SchweikertPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 14 min read
1
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“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley—”

“Stop!”

Cad flinched as Professor Glade sharply interrupted the young student standing in front of him.

“There weren’t always dragons in the valley? There weren’t always dragons in the valley?” he moaned and rubbed his eyes, replacing his spectacles a moment later. “Of course there weren’t, but nobody bloody cares about that now, do they? I don’t suppose you’re going to explain to me how it used to be a beautiful, sparkling paradise with green grass and sapphire skies, all ruined by the dragons?”

The young man standing at the front of the class swallowed and looked around the classroom nervously. “I shouldn’t do that?”

Professor Glade blinked and stared at him. “No!” he burst out. “Good lord, boy, this is the address of the Helfa Fawr, not a story at your niece’s birthday party. Try and act like you can at least sense the gravity of it.” He sighed and took a breath. “Listen, it’s our job to make sure that people don’t forget the dragons. There is no more important a duty for a Bard. You come here to my school to be taught how to weave a tale, how to keep the histories of old. Every one of you in my class will be meticulously taught, groomed, cultured, and sent out to the corners of the world to spread the stories of our people. You understand why I am hard on you, especially now?”

The young man’s eyes lit up. “Because of the address.”

Professor Glade nodded. “In this instance, yes, it is because of the Helfa Fawr. Now, can you explain to me why I disliked your original start to the address?”

The young man shifted uncomfortably. “No, sir.”

Professor Glade mumbled something to himself about the next generation, before clapping his hands together and raising his voice. “Alright then, can anyone in the room tell me what the Helfa Fawr is? That, at least, should not be too difficult.”

Cad raised his hand.

Professor Glade looked at him. “Very well boy, let’s hear it.”

He cleared his throat. “The Helfa Fawr, or The Hunt, is an annual event in which ten of the city’s finest young warriors are chosen to go back into the valley to test their mettle against dragons. Each warrior must come back with a souvenir to prove that they battled the beasts, after which, they are sworn into the ranks of the Wyrm Legion, the most advanced and powerful force in his majesty’s army.”

“Very good, Cad,” the professor said. “And what is their purpose?”

Cad blinked. “Slaying dragons, professor.”

“And so, when we are discussing the valley that these hideous monsters took from us all those years ago, why is it important that we do not discuss the condition the valley was in when we lived there?”

“Because history does not remember the color of the sky unless it was dark and slashed with lightning, or great fields unless they are littered with the bodies of the brave,” Cad repeated Professor Glade’s catch phrase out loud for all to hear. “History records events, not scenery; is educational, not wistful; and above all, gives honor to those that died and teaches the next generation how to learn from the mistakes of the past. We fight for the here and now, and are the mouthpieces of our forebears’ wisdom, not whimsies.”

Professor Glade nodded. “Excellent! That is correct. We do not discuss such trivial things like the condition of the valley as it is not pertinent, and creates a longing for what has been, and not what is.” He rubbed his forehead with his hand. “Now, everyone sit back down, and we will finish our lecture without any more recitals of the Helfa Fawr. One of you will be selected to deliver the address, but it will not be today. Your vague and somewhat toddler-like well meaning is getting the better of me, and I fear for my sanity should we remain on the topic. Soon enough, I shall decide which of you may bungle the most important event of the year, but today, I spare myself the headache.”

**************************************

Cad bent over his desk and gathered his books. Bleddyn would be waiting for him by now, he was sure. The lecture had gone on longer than he thought it was going to, and time had slipped him by. With luck, he could still make it to the barracks before they sealed the doors.

He threw his books into the leather bag at his side and hurried for the door.

“Cad, could you come here a moment?” Professor Glade called to him.

Cad’s heart sank, and he stopped. He turned around. “Of course, professor. What do you need?” He walked over to the old Bard’s desk, his books banging against his leg with each step.

Professor Glade leaned back in his chair and fixed Cad with a mysterious stare. “How old are you, boy?”

Cad swallowed. “Seventeen, sir. Why do you ask?”

Glade waved his hand and sighed. “No reason, really. I’m just curious.” He ran his fingers through his dark hair, ruffling it into a misshapen tangle on the top of his head. He straightened his spectacles and looked Cad up and down, as though he were preparing to auction him off and was trying to decide what his price should be.

“Sir?” Cad asked nervously.

“You pay your own way in this school, do you not?”

Cad nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Your parents help you with the cost, perhaps?”

“No sir, my parents passed two years ago in the valley. They were both Legion.”

Glade nodded and hummed to himself thoughtfully. “Legion, eh? Your friend is a Hunter Hopeful as well, is he not?”

Cad nodded. “He is. In fact, he is waiting for me right now,” he added hopefully. “We were supposed to meet before the barracks’ doors closed.”

Glade nodded and rubbed his chin. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then sighed and shook his head. He rose suddenly to his feet. “I would like for you to deliver the address of the Helfa Fawr tomorrow morning.”

Cad’s jaw dropped. “Sir?”

“I’m serious,” Glade said, pointing his finger at the end of Cad’s nose. “You listen to me when I speak in class, you hear what I’m saying. You aren’t like all the other royal blood in school, here because your parents sent you. You work hard to be able to afford coming here, and it shows. Last I checked, you were sharpening swords in the armory, weren’t you? And before that, you replaced all the candles in the palace every night. You want to be here, and that is the sort of student that should have the honor of delivering the address. Your parents were Legion, your friend is a Hunter and soon to be Legion, you have experienced loss due to the dragons, and you know the history. That’s a sight more than anyone else here can claim. What do you say?”

Cad wasn’t sure what to say. In fact, he was so unsure, that he couldn’t speak at all. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His heart beat like a blacksmith’s hammer, threatening to pound out of his chest.

“Think about it,” Glade said, waving his hand in the way he did and sitting back down. “I’m reluctant to offer the honor to anyone else, so you have until tomorrow morning to decide. If it helps you come to a decision, you will make my life infinitely simpler by accepting. Also, you will save me the excruciating horror of having to watch one of my other students botch it in front of the king and queen themselves. Now, off you go. The doors seal in half an hour.”

Cad turned around and strode toward the door numbly. He wandered out into the hall, the bustle of other students surrounding him once he stepped outside. They congregated outside the classroom, gossiping in hushed voices about what Cad could only assume was the Helfa Fawr. Each and every one of them hoped that they would be picked, that they would be the student graced with the honor of sending off this year’s Hunters with a vaguely inspiring and excessively verbose address.

He dropped his head and hurried past them, shoving open the doors that led out onto the street.

The sun was low in the sky, casting an orange glow over the white stone buildings scattered across the mountainside city of Enaid. He could see the giant stone wall built along the west side of the city, the deep barracks’ doors looming into the sky.

The wall had to be high. The dragons would come over it otherwise, and there was nothing the Wyrm Legion could do once they were in. The Legion was housed in the great barracks that rose like an obsidian shard in the field of white buildings and inner walls, forever calling it their home. Its turrets and ramparts glistened like polished onyx in the evening sunlight, standing proudly between the Valley and people of Enaid. It was a bastion of razor sharp blades and thundering cannon, a dark guardian of the pale city behind it. The doors were currently open, dragons only active night. They would soon be closing, and this time, they would be closing with Bleddyn outside.

He sprinted down the street toward the barracks, dodging left and right around cart horses, dogs, market shoppers and city guards on his way. The town buzzed with the excitement of the upcoming event, as it did every year. Boys ran leaping and yelling every direction, waving imaginary swords over their heads and calling out the names of spells that may or may not have actually been functional. Parents trawled along behind them, happy to be lost in the chaos of the celebrations and not tediously slaving away at their various professions.

It only took Cad five minutes of running, leaping, dodging and panting before he reached the gates of the barracks.

He slowed to a jog as Bleddyn came into view. The gates loomed ahead, and he swallowed. It had been two years since he had stood in their shadow, bidding farewell to his mother and father for the last time. Had he known they wouldn't ever return from the gloomy valley beyond the massive steel doors, he would have said something different to them. Something less angry.

He slowed to a walk and lifted his chin as he neared his best friend. He wouldn’t make the same mistake with Bleddyn. The two had known each other for their entire childhood; they were the best of friends. Cad had chosen the path of the Bard, a noble pursuit of history and great tales, while Bleddyn had chosen the path of the warrior.

There were times when Cad wished that he had chosen the way of his parents, braving the darkness of the valley for the good of Enaid. Sometimes he wished that he was a great warrior like his father, a dozen dragon scales draped around his neck, but it wasn’t hard to shake those feelings.

All he had to do was walk by the barracks on his way to the Bards College in the morning. It didn’t add a terribly large amount of time to his walk, just enough. More than enough to remind him of the chill that surrounded him whenever he neared those gates, whenever he remembered the looks on his parent’s faces as he had seen them off into the shadows and the gates had thrummed shut behind them. He would remember that, those feelings, and he wouldn’t regret the path that he had chosen. He was no coward; he was glad to face whatever odds he must, no exceptions allowed. He took no fear at the thought of dragons, nor long hours of study. Neither frightened him, but both gave him pause at what he wished to do in life. He had decided when his parents had passed that he would be the pen behind the page, the one that told the stories that shouldn’t be forgotten. He would tell the stories of the dragons, and those that dueled with them in the fetid reaches of the valley.

“Cad. Oi, Cad!”

Cad whirled around. “Huh?”

Bleddyn held his arms in the air in confusion. “Where you off to, mate? You bloody well passed me up!”

Cad flushed and hurried back to his friend. “Sorry. I was a little lost in thought.”

Bleddyn crossed his burly arms over his chest, reminding Cad of something akin to a disgruntled bear. “You don’t say?” His eyes strayed to the gate beside them, and his expression softened. “Anyway, thanks for comin’. I wasn’t sure you’d make it, to be honest. It’s gettin’ late. You know when they close these things, they don’t open again for ten days.”

“You know I wouldn’t miss it,” Cad said, grinning and thumping Bleddyn on the shoulder. “Finally being turned loose in the Valley! I feel bad for the dragons already.”

“You better believe it,” Bleddyn chuckled. “But it’s the officers of the Legion I feel worse for.” He lowered his voice. “Such a sorry excuse for recruits the city’s never seen, you can be sure of it. Why, some of ‘em ain’t even mastered their weapon proper. We’ll be lucky to make our ten days alive, I say.”

Cad felt his bones go cold. “Don’t say that.”

Bleddyn shrugged. “It’s true, though. Valley ain’t no place for simps, and simps be all we got this fine year. Wouldn’t be surprised if the officers are the only ones to come back from this one, mate. And to be locked with these fools ten days! Almost worse than the dragons...”

Cad heard a chorus of whispering behind them and turned around.

The boy that the professor had interrupted stood with a group of others a few paces away. They were looking in his direction and gossiping as furiously as a gaggle of old maids.

“What are they goin’ on about?” Bleddyn asked, frowning so deeply his tangled red eyebrows nearly buried his eyes.

Cad turned back around and shook his head. “Gossip about the Helfa Fawr, I’m sure.”

“Aye, who’s gonna be deliverin’ my death speech, anyway?” Bleddyn said jokingly. He cleared his throat and looked away from Cad’s glare. “You know what I mean.”

Cad laughed nervously. “Right. Well, funny story actually, but uh...me, I think.”

Bleddyn looked back at him and his jaw dropped. “You’re bloody jokin!’”

Cad shook his head. “Nope. Professor Glade asked me to deliver the address just before I left the school.”

Bleddyn chuckled and his shoulders rolled like a bulls. “Well, call me lucky! No a bad way to go, bein’ sent off by you’re best friend, eh?”

Cad’s smile melted away. “You aren’t going to die, Bleddyn. You know that.”

Bleddyn’s hearty grin finally gave way to a look of concern. “I don’t know, mate. I’ve not got a good feelin’ about this one. I wish you were along, that’s for sure.”

The gates above them thundered with a sudden groan, scraping across the cobblestones.

“Oop, times up,” Bleddyn said, his grin flashing back as quickly as it had left. “I’ll be listening for your address, mate. I can hardly wait.”

Cad watched as Bleddyn jogged outside the gates and joined the other young hunters waiting at the edge of the darkness. His thick frame was outlined in the gloom of the Valley behind him, the shadows dancing around the edges of his features.

“Watch your skies, Bleddyn,” Cad called to him over the roar of the gates. His heart clamped in his chest. “Don’t be caught with the clouds low.”

Bleddyn winked at him and opened his mouth to say something, but froze. His eyes widened and he pointed at something behind Cad.

Cad’s world blurred as he was shoved forward. He fell on his knees just outside the gates, his hands smarting as they ground against the rocks.

He leaped to his feet and whirled around, but he was too late. The gates crashed closed with a boom, the light of the city winking out like a candle snuffed in a winter breeze.

He turned and ran to Bleddyn. “Make them open the gates!” he said, his voice rising in panic. “I can’t be out here! It’s getting dark!”

The other Hunters looked on, their expressions a mixture of pity and disgust. He could feel their eyes on him, watching him disgrace their ranks.

He tried to calm himself, and stared at Bleddyn imploringly.

Bleddyn shook his head, his eyes wide. “Those gates won’t be openin’ for ten days, mate. You’re Legion now, whether you want to be or not.”

Young Adult
1

About the Creator

Nicholas Schweikert

I'm currently searching for my head. I've been told it's somewhere in the clouds, But I'm not interested in coming that far down towards earth to find it.

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