It was late in the evening. A clear sky was quickly becoming overcast as the clouds moved in and the sun began setting across the western mountains. The shadow formed from the multiple jagged peaks created the image of a gnarled hand stretched out, down the mountain towards a village situated in the center of the valley.
The temperature was beginning to decline rapidly, and the first vestiges of snow had begun to fall; thick and fluffy as it covered the ground. At the southern entrance to the village; two guards stood watch...and waited.
>>"Hey Marik," spoke the first guard to his companion. "Do us both the favor of lighting that brazier sooner, rather than later."
>> "Alright Alright, hold yer horses Randall, ya big baby." Marik muttered under his breath. "Can't be helped much, what with the wood being all wet with these snowstorms happening so frequently."
Marik added more dry tinder under the logs in the brazier.
As Marick continued railing about the wood being possibly soak thru, while feverishly striking the flint with the back of his hunting knife, Randall returned his gaze back to the road in front of him. Back to the task he had been set. Unlike Marick who was truly on guard duty, Randall had be placed at the gate that night with an all important mission; Insure the safe arrival of High Matriarch.
In this moment, Randall felt as if he were as tall as the very mountain to the left of where he stood. A living beacon in his own mind, that usherered the High Matriarch ever closer with each passing second. Even though the role he played hadn't been as great as what others might laud him for; to himself he would be the man that delivered the High Matriarch to the chosen ones, who would in turn on this very night give birth to the saviors of humanity. Surely history would remember that person...remember him, Randall mused.
>>"Heavenly mother, beauty & grace be praised!"
Randall jumped in startlement as he was brought out of his fantastical mental merry-go-round. Scanning the horizon to make sure he hadn't missed the carriage of the matriarch cresting the horizon. Disappointed in the lack of movement, Randall turned to see Marick gesturing towards the brazier. What had been slightly smoking had grown into a respectable flame that licked it's way up the conical shaped log formation. Randall gazed at the opening in the center, and saw cotton, grass clippings, and peels of wood stuffed to the brink of poking slightly out of the hole.
>>"So...I guess the wood was soaked through, huh" Randall remarked.
>>"Yeah," Marick responded exasperatedly. "I told you as much earlier. Finally I got tired and figure the only way forward would be to start a fire and then build the wood around it, Drying and burning the wood at the same time."
Randall looked on an smiled, in his mind. Marick wasn't much of a man to speak of, but he always produced results. When I become famous as the man who deliverd the Matriarch , I'll be sure to bring Marick along. Randall thought to himself.
>>"Good job Marick, you were just the right man for the job." it was just as much an insult as an admission of skill in Randall's mind, but Marick didn't catch it, and Randall wasn't going to explain.
Marick stared at the back of Randall with a smiling his face. Randall had already gone back to staring down the dirt road, but he couldn't help focusing on him. Randall represented something that Marick never considered; Hope. Marick thought back upon his life in the village of Parcel; a place so unimportant someone named it after a box sent there over a hundred years ago. As the third child of a shoe maker, Marick had no hope of ever inheritting his father's business; which would be named to his older brother in the rights of succession. Unlike his sister the second eldest, Marick had not been lucky enough to born a girl. Like all females, she was born with the gift of magic, whereas the Goddess did not see fit to grant men this boon of power Upon reaching her thirteenth names day. Miranda left for the ivory citadel, on the otherside of the continent, near the ocean. Where if the letters were any indication; she had become quite the sister of harmony, healers to noble and the like. No, Marick was only Marick third born child, and second born male of Marcus the shoe maker, with nothing to his name. Marick's parents did him the favor of at least securing him the job of guardsman, he'd heard the job had cost his father a really good pair of shoes and private time with his mother, Eleanor; who was known to be so bad at magic, some said she might as well have not had the gift at all; struggling to cast anything harder than the most simple and small fire. Still she was a woman, and that meant that even with her meager ability she stood several rungs above what Marick could even hope to grasp. No, Marick knew his place and it was not one he would wish upon his greatest enemy. He would not be able to marry, no woman would have his children, there would no feats, no songs, and in the end he would most likely die of middling age with a swolen belly full of ale in front of the very gates he now protected.
Randall was the world to Marick, because Randall wasn't from Parcel, having only showed up less than a year prior bringing with him four families which those in power within the village, obsessed over endlessly. Randall was not just gate guard, but a True Guard, word said that they were men who were stronger, faster than normal men. Not long after that, a fifth woman was brought, now she Marick knew of; The hero of Kalindor whom felled an adult green dragon with sword and shield. At first, Marick had no idea why they came but now he had an inkling. Each woman was pregnant, over the past three no one had managed to have children and now these five were with child. Many in the village had spoke of the end times when from wombs of the chose would spring forth heroes who would save us all. Marick couldn't say if it was true, what he knew was if he made a good showing of himself; maybe when Randall left to return to his post, he might take Marick with him. If Marick could escape Parcel, then he change his name, lie about his worth and maybe find someone who'd love him for his new importance.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
(bring in the Matriach/ squeaking wheels signalling her arrival)
The sun had fully set by now taking with it, all the warmth provided in the day, Marick stayed close to brazier to stay warm, but Randall refused. he stood at the edge of the light focused solely on the road; his senses narrow for the slightest sign of movement. Randall eyes shot wide as the sound echoed through the valley. Barely discernible at first, but Randall had been waiting desperately, tonight was the night. He'd sent his prized companion, Reginald with the letter earlier this afternoon when each woman's water broke simultaneously. The signs of what was to come, were all there for anyone to see, if they had a mind for how magic works; nothing is coincidence, so if it looks odd or unlikely then magic had to be at play. As he had been ordered months ago, Randall proceeded to Reginald's cage. Weasel-falcons being to the fastest, and most agile creatures for carrying notifications, not only could they fly incredible quick to their destinations, there infiltration abilities were second to none. Randall knew that Reginald would complete his mission; it was only matter of whether the High Matriarch would reach the village before the women finished giving birth.
After a couple of minutes of hearing wheels creaking and horseshoes clopping, the carriage came into view. Dazzling white with light pink and sky blue accents that seemed glow even in the darkness. Measured in its movements as if the event taking place behind the two guards were of a simple affair, the carriage neither sped up nor slowed it's pace the end of its journey lay before its passengers. Finally slowing to crawl and then halting before Randall; the carriage driver descended to ground and without a word to Randall whom stood before him, the carriage driver turned sharply on heels and opend the door to cabin and it's passenger inside. Leaned back and shrouded in the darkness of the unlit cabin interior, a sweet but stern voice began to speak.
>>"You, must be the one that we had placed here to guard the chosen ones."
The voice wasn't asking, she said it only as a matter of fact. As if all the answers that Randall could have said were already known to her.
>>"Well, speak up, I don't wish to waste time out here with you. So the sooner you start speaking, the sooner I can begin my part in this auspicious event."
Randall, finally coming to himself answered the still shadowed figure. Allowing himself to take the full of his height; pushing his shoulders back and putting on a confident smirk. "Aye, and I would guess that you are the High Matriarch, you'll forgive me for not bowing at the moment, I'm sure.
The words came to him like a breeze on a warm summer day; light and unforceful. Even if he couldn't see her face he knew she would be surprised, taken aback by how measured he was. Surely she was impressed, Randall knew instinctively that she would test him. This moment was his, as the chosen ones would have theirs later this night. Speaking in metaphors and flowing dialogue, Randall made the most of the moment. When he finished speaking, there was silence between the two. Randall took that to mean he had passed the test.
Leaning forward and into the light the High Matriarch face into view; Blonde-haired with slight edges to her temples, she regarded the man before her with an upturned. eyebrow and a slighty open mouth before turning her gaze to the younger man who had sidled up behind him.
>>"Young man, what is your name?" the High Matriarch said leveling her gaze at Marick.
>>"Marick is my name, madam" Marick responded quickly.
The high martriarch continued, >>"And do you know why I am here"
>>"I've heard rumors, and if they're to believed, Yes, I know what you're here to do." responded Marick.
>>"Wonderful, open the gates and then stand in front of the carriage." The High Matriarch hadn't even given her name and had already taken full control of the situation, doling out orders as if she had always been there; always been in charge.
>>" You don't nee--", "Hush now" Randall moved to take control of the conversation, but the High Matriarch shushed him and went back her orders, though she had one last for Randall whom in her mind apparently, didn't know his place.
>>"As for you, you have done a decent job so far, from the missives we have received I can tell that the chosen ones have been kept safe and secure. Take pride in that, for if we could have spared the womanpower, the collective would have sent someone to supervise your actions. Know that we are very content and your next position will be considered due to the good job you have done here. Hold your position here and try to stay warm."
With that, the High Matriarch returned to her carriage. Randall stood there physically deflated, all his ideas of grandeur were for not. Stripped bare as if he were nothing more than a tool. A child naked in a storm, screaming at the sky for the rain to stop. What he wanted meant nothing to them and after tonight even moreso. More powerful women would come into the world, further pushing him down a hole, he had struggled his entire life to climb out of; to stand at the top, and breath in the fresh air.
With the gate now open the carriage began to slowly move into the village, Marick looked back to see Randall standing where the High Matriarch left him, looking dumbfounded. Marick wanted to call out to the man he respected and was in awe for, but at the moment even without Randall the opportunity to impress his way forward still lay before him; "I just need to make sure I don't disappoint, her!" Marick closed himself off to Randall's pain, now was just not the time. As the gate closed from the otherside, Randall turned his head and watched the carriage, the High Matriarch, and Marick moved out of sight, no one could hear him utter,
>>"But this is my time."