SciFi and Fantasy Stories: Terani and Vral, pt 1

Terani grinned as he neared the Seanni Werewolf Pack’s territory. It was a fine morning. Vral had responded well to his letter in a letter of her own, telling him to meet her outside the village. “None of the stories you hear about Werewolves are true,” she had written. “It’s quite safe and I’ll clear it with Chief Rion. Bring everything you think you’ll need for a long quest.”

Not that he was afraid of Werewolves, by any means. Most of those stories, he knew, were meant to scare children with. He had a chance to win King Elian’s eldest daughter’s hand and cover himself with glory with a quest. As he neared the village, he blew a few notes on his horn. Immediately, a plain-looking woman appeared beside him.

“Are you stupid?! Put that thing away before you have every Seanni warrior on top of you!”

“I just wanted to let them know I’m here.”

“We’ve known since you entered our territory. I’m Vral.”

He eyed the woman. He had pictured a classic princess in a red dress. Now, though, he realized that she was right to call him stupid. This was someone who had been raised by Werewolves. One couldn’t expect someone who lived outdoors most of the time to wear the impractical things one saw in court. And she did have a kind of wild beauty.

“You mentioned a quest,” he said. “Care to give me details?”

She nodded in satisfaction. This was one man who didn’t mince words. If he learned not to blow his horn every time he approached a village, he would have a better chance than the last three silver-tongued princes.

“Have you ever heard of the Motherstone?”

Terani searched his memory for a minute and finally dragged it out of one of the first stories his nanny had told him.

“A stone with the image of a Werewolf engraved on it. Said to hold the spirit of the Mother of All Werewolves.”

“Yes. It’s real. I’d like you to find it.”

Terani hesitated. Vral promptly tilted her head up, batting her eyelashes in exactly the way she imagined one of those court-bound peacocks who called themselves ladies would do.

“If you do this, you’ll have my hand in marriage.”

Terani laughed. “Okay, okay. You nailed those peacocks perfectly. And people wonder why I’m always off having adventures.”

Vral dropped her act. She really liked this one.

“We think alike.” She stuck her hand in a pocket and pulled out a blue pearl. “This will lead you straight to the Motherstone. If you’re lost, stick it in your ear and it’ll tell you which way to go. This is the only one in the whole world, so don’t lose it.”

“I’ll bet all the other princes get one, too,” Terani muttered.

“Nope. Chief Rion is convinced you’ve got a better chance than anyone else. I trust his word. Oh, and the pearl will tell you the fastest, but not always the easiest, way to go. You’ll still have to use your own judgment.”

“Fair enough.”

Vral swung her arms. “Well, all I can do is wish you good luck.”

“Right. I’ll see you when I get back.”

She flashed a grin at him. “Sure. When you get back.”

Suddenly wanting to do something to impress the princess, Terani tugged on the reins, causing his horse to rear. He tipped an imaginary cap.

“I, Terani of Georn, shall return!”

He galloped off, leaving Vral doubled over with laughter. Whatta rube, she thought. Nice guy, though. Not especially silver-tongued, but, then, neither am I.

She went back to the village, still chuckling.

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

King Elian flung the papers across the room and chased all his servants from his rooms with bellowed curses. He had just gotten the latest news on his daughter from Chief Rion of Seanni Pack. Vral was beginning to receive suitors, and was paying absolutely no attention to whether they came from Erana's allies or enemies!

To be fair, though, it wasn’t her fault. Elian hadn’t had much to do with her since he had been forced to send her away as an infant. Her mother, the Queen, had been under suspicion of unfaithfulness at the time. Though all parties involved had later been absolved of any wrongdoing, the Queen had insisted that there be no bad reminders. Therefore, Vral remained with the Seanni Pack.

Now, with the Queen dead and Vral nearing marrying age, Elian’s daughter clearly needed his guidance. Elian took a few deep breaths just as a nervous page peeked in the door. Elian reassured him with a smile and told him to have the stable master get his royal horse ready.

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

“So, how did it go?” Rion asked as he sat next to Vral by the evening campfire, where she was sharpening a spear point.

“Pretty good. Terani has the scent of someone who has not been spoiled by court life. He could learn a bit of sense, though.”

“Yes, we all heard him sounding off. Arrassa wanted to answer his challenge.”

For Werewolves, three short notes through a horn meant a challenge. Rion himself would have been well justified in taking Terani up on it. However, he knew that humans couldn’t be held to the same cultural dictates as Werewolves. Vral rolled her eyes, as much for the young and headstrong Arrassa’s sake as Terani’s, and tactfully changed the subject.

“I’ll see if I can bring down an elk for the Full Moon Feast tomorrow.”

“A big buck would be good.”

“Of course.”

It was a human misconception that Werewolves lost all control over their wolf forms during the full moon. While a Werewolf was strongest during the full phase, he did not turn feral. Instead, it was considered a night of feasting, wrestling, and games in honor of the Mother of All Werewolves.

Vral inspected her spear point, running her finger along it to test for sharpness. She was careful not to slit her finger and would not complain if she did. If she hurt her finger, it was her own fault and would mean that the point met every standard. Declaring it ready, she tied it expertly to the shaft.

Taking her leave of Rion, she slipped off, alone, into the forest. Ever since she had brought down the boar that had been a plague to hunters for the longest time some three seasons past, none had dared suggest that she wasn’t a full Seanni hunter. No one would listen to her claims that she had been paralyzed with fright, which was probably the only reason the creature had charged right into her stake. They naturally expected that she would bring in the biggest game for the Full Moon Feast.

She had been walking for some ten minutes, humming a hunting song while looking for fresh tracks, when she heard the beating of horse hooves. Just one horse, she reckoned. Certainly not a band of raiders. Still, she slipped a little way off the track, and then turned to see who it was.

A royal. She knew that look. The horse’s breeding was excellent, as was the riding gear, and he carried a sword. Only humans of noble blood were technically allowed to carry weapons, though anybody with any sense would know that even common farm tools could become a weapon in the right hands.

She shrugged and turned away when the rider went past, apparently without noticing her. Naturally not. She wasn’t a band of brigands any more than the rider was, and she could have been just another Werewolf out for a night’s hunt.

She found a fresh set of elk tracks. Big one, from the looks of it. With a fierce grin, she dropped into the hunting stance and followed.