Categories > Original > Fantasy > Moonfire
chapter two
0 ReviewsThe Moonfire gem gives it's wearer great power, and a long life of eternal slumber.
The young squire spotted the old castle by accident. A flash of lightening illuminated the almost overgrown structure. Quickly the squire hurried toward it, thankful for some sort of shelter from the storm. Once he got inside, he looked curiously around, he had heard stories about the castle and how it was haunted, but he didn’t believe them. Slowly he walked through the great hall of the castle, looking at the faded tapestries. Then almost as if a voice called him he turned toward the far end of the hall. He noticed an arched entranceway, and he walked toward it. A flight of steps led upwards and he suddenly had a great desire to follow them. The squire ascended the stairs slowly, finally coming to the top. He found a doorway that was covered with cobwebs and brushed them away, before stepping inside. The large room was empty except for a bed and the squire walked toward it. He gazed down in awe at the beautiful woman who lay there in a dead sleep. Looking down he saw the gold necklace around her neck, again. A voice spoke to him, telling him to remove the necklace. He gently pulled the woman up and took the necklace off her slender neck. Almost the moment the necklace was taken off her eyes fluttered and she looked up in confusion at the squire.
“Where am I?” She asked softly, “where’s Arthur?”
The squire shook his head, “I don’t know an Arthur, but I do know you’re in the tower of an old castle.”
She frowned, “the last thing I remember is Arthur putting the necklace around my neck, then I woke up here.”
The squire held out the necklace, “I have it right here.”
She reached out to touch it, then drew her hand back like she had been burned.
The squire looked at her troubled face, “I think you should come back with me.” He said, “you can’t stay here.”
She nodded, “my name is Bronwen, what’s yours?”
The squire hopped off the bed and looked out the window, “my name is Wesley,” he said. “I think it’s stopped raining and we have a long journey ahead of us.”
He turned back to the bed and helped Bronwen out of it. They walked out of the room and down the stairs.
When they reached the great hall, Bronwen cried out in dismay, “this used to be such a beautiful place, why is it no one lives here any more?”
Wesley shrugged in the manner of small boys, “when the old king died, the new king decided to live in a manor house instead of a castle.”
“This is a strange world I’ve woken up into,” Bronwen said thoughtfully.
They traveled through the woods, finally making it to the town where Wesley lived before nightfall.
“I am an orphan,” Wesley said, “so Sir Richard took me in and made me his squire. I’ll take you to meet him, then tomorrow we’ll visit the magician Marlon and show him your necklace.”
They walked uphill toward a huge manor house, the guards recognized Wesley and let them in.
Bronwen stopped before the large oak front door, “I’m not sure if this is a good idea,” she said softly.
Wesley grabbed her hand, “you’ll be fine,” he said and nearly dragged her through the open door.
As soon as they entered all conversation in the hall stopped as everyone turned and stared at Bronwen.
It was so quiet, Bronwen could hear every catty comment, “ look at all that red hair,” and “where did she find that dress? Was it the one they buried her great-grandmother in?”
“Don’t let them bother you,” Wesley said, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the highboard.
A handsome man sat flanked on each side by equally handsome men. He looked up from his food and eyed Bronwen in interest.
“What have you found, Squire Wesley?” He asked, “perhaps. She is one of the fey.”
“This is Bronwen, My Lord.” Wesley said, “I found her in the old castle, she had been in an enchanted sleep until I removed this necklace.”
He held up the gold necklace, the moonfire gem shining in the light from the torches. Everyone in the hall gasped in awe.
“Sleeping beauty,” Sir Richard murmured, eyeing her once again with interest.
He clapped his hands and a servant woman appeared out of the shadows.
“Prepare a room for the Lady Bronwen,” he said, “I’m sure she’ll want to rest after she sups with us.”
One of the men stood up and allowed Bronwen to sit in his place.
“Tell me Lady Bronwen how you came to be in your enchanted sleep,” Sir Richard said.
Bronwen told them her sad story and held everyone enthralled in the tale.
“Who was the king when you fell asleep my lady?” One of the knights asked her, causing Sir Richard to glower at him with jealousy.
“King Laurence the mighty,” Bronwen replied, causing everyone to gasp again.
“My Lady,” Sir Richard said grasping her hand, “you’ve been asleep for a hundred years.”
“Where am I?” She asked softly, “where’s Arthur?”
The squire shook his head, “I don’t know an Arthur, but I do know you’re in the tower of an old castle.”
She frowned, “the last thing I remember is Arthur putting the necklace around my neck, then I woke up here.”
The squire held out the necklace, “I have it right here.”
She reached out to touch it, then drew her hand back like she had been burned.
The squire looked at her troubled face, “I think you should come back with me.” He said, “you can’t stay here.”
She nodded, “my name is Bronwen, what’s yours?”
The squire hopped off the bed and looked out the window, “my name is Wesley,” he said. “I think it’s stopped raining and we have a long journey ahead of us.”
He turned back to the bed and helped Bronwen out of it. They walked out of the room and down the stairs.
When they reached the great hall, Bronwen cried out in dismay, “this used to be such a beautiful place, why is it no one lives here any more?”
Wesley shrugged in the manner of small boys, “when the old king died, the new king decided to live in a manor house instead of a castle.”
“This is a strange world I’ve woken up into,” Bronwen said thoughtfully.
They traveled through the woods, finally making it to the town where Wesley lived before nightfall.
“I am an orphan,” Wesley said, “so Sir Richard took me in and made me his squire. I’ll take you to meet him, then tomorrow we’ll visit the magician Marlon and show him your necklace.”
They walked uphill toward a huge manor house, the guards recognized Wesley and let them in.
Bronwen stopped before the large oak front door, “I’m not sure if this is a good idea,” she said softly.
Wesley grabbed her hand, “you’ll be fine,” he said and nearly dragged her through the open door.
As soon as they entered all conversation in the hall stopped as everyone turned and stared at Bronwen.
It was so quiet, Bronwen could hear every catty comment, “ look at all that red hair,” and “where did she find that dress? Was it the one they buried her great-grandmother in?”
“Don’t let them bother you,” Wesley said, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the highboard.
A handsome man sat flanked on each side by equally handsome men. He looked up from his food and eyed Bronwen in interest.
“What have you found, Squire Wesley?” He asked, “perhaps. She is one of the fey.”
“This is Bronwen, My Lord.” Wesley said, “I found her in the old castle, she had been in an enchanted sleep until I removed this necklace.”
He held up the gold necklace, the moonfire gem shining in the light from the torches. Everyone in the hall gasped in awe.
“Sleeping beauty,” Sir Richard murmured, eyeing her once again with interest.
He clapped his hands and a servant woman appeared out of the shadows.
“Prepare a room for the Lady Bronwen,” he said, “I’m sure she’ll want to rest after she sups with us.”
One of the men stood up and allowed Bronwen to sit in his place.
“Tell me Lady Bronwen how you came to be in your enchanted sleep,” Sir Richard said.
Bronwen told them her sad story and held everyone enthralled in the tale.
“Who was the king when you fell asleep my lady?” One of the knights asked her, causing Sir Richard to glower at him with jealousy.
“King Laurence the mighty,” Bronwen replied, causing everyone to gasp again.
“My Lady,” Sir Richard said grasping her hand, “you’ve been asleep for a hundred years.”
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