"The Awakening: Chapter Three: Shay´ae´rin" by Joanne Barnden

Many months passed since Tha'Rin had joined them, and by the time summer rolled in with his usual glory, he was now a permanent figure. They felt him to be an extension on their happy little family, a group of people that had expanded enough to let the wayward halfling in with minimal complaint. His addition to the group disrupted their little structure for a little while, but they accepted him and their new keeper with the comfortable security that comes with a new family member. Now their family was complete. Or so they thought.
It came on a fabulous sunny day. The sky was a vibrant summer blue with puffy clouds hanging up in the immenseness. They were the type of clouds that children imagine having glittering palaces full of downy winged angels on top. Playful larks and twittering robins fought in the fruit laden trees for nesting sites while droning bees hummed from flower to flower in the rich flowerbeds that were positively awash with colour. The children sat on a plain rug underneath a swelling apple tree, looking with their childish enthusiasm at the bounty that Deirdre was unpacking slowly from their picnic basket.
Once they had all eaten their fill, and more, they settled in dreamy contentment. Deirdre brushed her hands off, repacked the basket and stood up.
'I hope I can trust you children not to make a pest of your selves while I put this basket back?' she asked with a steely hint in her voice. All the children muttered various forms of yes, and Deirdre walked off toward the palace, in the slow measured pace that everyone seems to automatically assume when the weather is good.
'What do we do now?' Reyel asked bored.
'Go rafting?' Jereth suggested a bit too quickly, but Jai shook his head.
'Deirdre wasn't too happy last time we did that.' He absently picked up an apple that had fallen from the fruit laden branches, and tossed it into the branches of the tree. In response, another apple came flying back. They all froze in place and stared incredulously at the tree that just thrown an apple at them.
Tha'rin picked up another apple and threw it back. Again, another came hurtling back. The children all exchanged baffled looks and all started throwing apples into the vexed tree, and, as before another came flying back. Soon it became a game- they threw and danced out of the way as the apples coming back at them, laughing all the while.
It wasn't really the tree's mysterious apple thrower's fault that the apple happened to hit Srynath. Whoever it was hadn't managed to hit anyone yet, evidence that their aim wasn't all that good, so the odds of it's aim actually hitting someone as small as Srynath were as small as hitting a particular grape with a pebble from a hundred yards. But somewhere, someone hit that grape, and Srynath copped a smallish apple in her face. All action stopped at that point. Srynath, her skirts flying behind her, flew up, her small face as black as a thundercloud. She bent and picked up the biggest apple she could and threw it back. Srynath's aim was one hundred per cent better then the tree's assailant's had been. There was a childish yelp, followed by a lot of crashing and rustling of leaves. A small and very dirty child fell out of the branches and onto the long grass. His black eyes were wide and frightened; his filthy white hair was tangled and hung around his thin face. He held a filthy long clawed hand above his forehead where Srynath's apple had hit. Srynath promptly flew up to the startled child and berated him on many levels, using vocabulary that wasn't quite appropriate for a child. It was at that moment that Deirdre chose to make an appearance. She was carrying a cake on an ornate plate and a knife to cut it with.
'What in the name of the Gods is going on here? Who is this?' She gestured to the new child with her knife. That frightened the dirty boy more then Srynath, and with all the attention drawn to Deirdre, he bolted.

The boy ran faster then he ever had before. He'd been frightened when the big boy had thrown an apple at him, thinking he had been spotted. Throwing them back had been a definite no, but there was no turning back. He hadn't even seen the faerie, and the lady with the knife, he shuddered, turning back to gauge the distance between himself and the awful lady with the knife. They were still behind him, but not so close that he couldn't find a way out of this terrible compound. He breathed a bit easier; they'd never catch him now. Suddenly, out of the trees ahead of him the man appeared. A welter of images flooded the little boy as he tried desperately to stop. The man had been watching him ever since he was small. He remembered the red cat slit eyes watching him, the man, always the same, would only be in sight for a second or so before he melted back into the background. The child was on the verge of panic when the strange figure in red and black grabbed him. Terror took over. What did this strange creature want with him? He screamed trying to struggle free. But to no avail. The man had him. It was all over.
Deirdre was running as fast as she could, but the little urchin was faster. She almost screamed in frustration. How could she have been so stupid? She should've known that the knife would frighten a child. Hopelessly she watched as he drew further and further ahead. Then, without warning a man stepped out from the trees and grabbed the child with mild seeming indifference. Deirdre and the children quickly reached the man. She knew him of course. Every one knew him. She approached him warily. He had always frightened her. His red eyes and cat-like nonchalance seemed unnatural. She stood a respectable pace away from him, with the children hiding behind her skirts.
'Lord Sh'Dyan. I see you've come in the nick of time as usual.' She said, feebly trying to perhaps lighten his dead expression. He looked at her with an unwavering gaze.
'It seems so.' He said in the curiously heavy accent that marked the few of his race that could speak the civilized tongue. 'You seen to be having difficulty with this child. Strange problem for a person in your profession.' Deirdre blushed at his offhand rebuke. She held out her arms for the struggling child.
'I'll take him from here, if you don't mind my Lord.' He looked at her for a while, his ruby eyes mildly probing. Deirdre blushed again in spite of herself.
'No, I don't think so. I've spent too much time on this child to let you let him escape again.' Now what did he mean by that? Deirdre was about to phrase the question, but the Dragyn Lord turned heel and left, his cape swirling at his ankles.

King Xenin of Kadinia sat at his heavy wooden desk studying the latest proposal from his greedy vassals. In his eyes, this document gave the vassal, Baron Elkaran by name, all sorts of tax rights over the lower class. King Xenin knew that the greedy Baron would cause an uproar with in the ranks of the Barons, so he was puzzling on a way to politely phrase 'Don't be so bloody stupid.' Suddenly his door was thrown open and Sh'Dyan strode in, with a small, dirty child under his arm. Just what I need, Sh'Dyan Xenin thought, He looked wearily up from his work. The Dragyn lord hadn't changed since he had last visited. Xenin wasn't sure whether Sh'Dyan could change.
'My Lord.' Xenin greeted politely inclining his head.
'Your Majesty.' The Dragyn replied. He didn't bow. Xenin hadn't really expected him to. As far as the king knew, Sh'Dyan didn't bow to anyone.
'I see you have a little present. You really shouldn't have, my birthday's still a way off.' The king was rewarded for his little jest with a slight smile from the dragyn. 'A smile Sh'Dyan? I didn't think you knew how.' The dragyn laughed this time, a curious dry laugh that was more cynical then amused.
'Yes your majesty, I do smile. As for this little present, I want him here at the palace. He needs to know the other children here.' He said, holding out the terrified little boy.
'May I ask why?' The king politely asked.
'You may ask, but you won't get an answer you'll understand. Just keep the child safe. I need him later on.' He paused, pursing his thin lips in thought, 'Oh, yes, he'll be entering Kal-Irra with the others too.'
'Kal-Irra? That's for children of noble birth, not urchins like this one.'
'Tha'rin's not of noble birth.'
'But he's not entering the school either.'
'Oh, did I forget to tell you? I want him to go to. They'll need the training.' There was a wry amusement to his voice. Xenin knew that tone, and it grated on him. He set his shoulders to defy the patronizing foreigner. It was after all, his country.
'I'm sorry Sh'Dyan, they won't accept them there.'
'Then make them accept them.'
'I can't do that!' Xenin was horrified.
'Look Xenin, either you make them accept the children or I will. I think they'd get the point if I went down there in my natural form, wouldn't you think? If that puffed up Preceptor doesn't want them, I can roast him and choose another. Now the choice is yours. But if I don't see the two of them entering their noviate five years hence, I'll be forced to take steps. Now get that tame whore you keep as a babysitter in here and clean the child up. I'll see you five years from now at Kal-Irra. Good bye your majesty.' And with that, he deposited the child on one of the velvet-backed chairs scattered about the room and turned on heel and strode out the door. A few seconds passed before Deirdre burst in with the guards that were supposed to be guard the door.
'Where is he?' The red-faced girl asked. Xenin looked at her with surprise.
'Didn't you pass him on your way in?' He asked. She shook her head. 'That's odd, he just left a minute ago.'
'With the child?' Deirdre asked. Xenin had almost forgotten about the child that Sh'Dyan had unceremoniously left in his care. He glanced at the chair where the nervous little boy sat cross-legged, his black eyes wide. Deirdre followed his gaze then shot the king a quizzical look.
'I don't know Deirdre, all I know is that he's in you care now.' He passed a weary hand over his face. 'I've also been told on no uncertain terms that he's to enter Kal-Irra, with Tha'rin.'
'But he can't! He's not of noble birth!' she protested. The king sighed.
'I know, but you try telling a dragyn that. He told me either the children enter their noviate or he'll set the preceptor on fire.'
'He wouldn't!' she gasped. Xenin shrugged.
'Who knows? I'm not taking the chance though.' He rang a bell on his desk, summoning the door guards. 'Send a messenger to Kal-Irra. Tell him to summon the Preceptor and explain that something unusual has come up and I need to talk to him.' The senior of the guards snapped a salute and left the room.
While Xenin watched him go, a strange thought occurred to the king. He crooked his finger at the remaining guard, who came to his desk immediately.
'Yes your majesty?'
'How is it that he got past the door?'
'Who is that sir?'
'Sh'Dyan.'
'Excuse me, but who is Sh'Dyan?'
'The Dragyn lord, smallish man, red eyes, slitted, like a cat's, red and black clothing, black hair, red streak, kind of thin looking, Walks as if he owns the world, small child under one arm- that Sh'Dyan.' The guard just shook his head.
'I'm sorry your majesty but the last person admitted was this lady here, before that was the cook with your lunch, and that was an hour ago.' The king face creased into a worried frown.
'That'll be all thank you.' The guard bowed and left. The king turned to Deirdre. 'Are you sure you didn't see him on the way out?' He asked her. She shook her head.
'No, I would've noticed him. He does have a rather commanding presence.' The king smiled.
'Yes, I know, somehow I always feel inferior when he's in the room. Almost like a child sometimes.' The king shook his head 'Ah well, what are we to do with this child?' The little boy hadn't moved since he had been placed there, he held his filthy knees to his chest. At one time in the child's past his hose had been white, and his tunic a solid brown. But it didn't look as if the clothes had been washed in years. He had red flame-like markings underneath his wide black eyes, identifying him as a halfling with gryphon blood somewhere in his ancestry. He could only guess what the other half was. 'Deirdre, I think you might want to wash and feed him, and oh, find him some decent clothes.' He said 'Then bring him back.' The girl nodded curtly and turned to the little boy.
'Come on then honey, let's get you some nice new clothes.' She said in an oddly sing song voice. The little boy made a move to get off the chair, his intent eyes on Deirdre. 'We'll get you some lunch too, are you hungry?' The boy nodded, still with his wide eyes locked on the girl. She held out her hand to him, and he flinched back. 'No sweetie, I won't hurt you, come on, take my hand and I'll take you to the baths and get you all cleaned up.' He slowly took her hand. She smiled. 'There, that wasn't so hard, was it?' He slid off the chair and shook his head, but his eyes still betrayed a fear. Deirdre gently led him out of the room and down the hall.

* * *

A couple of hours later, he was sitting back in the study room. His hair glistened in that peculiar way a gryphon blood's hair did, giving the impression of new snow. He was wearing one of Tha'rin's old blue tunics and grey hose, with a pair of soft brown boots. He wasn't really used to boots, but the nice lady had given them to him so he decided to be polite and wear them. He hadn't spoken at all to the strange people that, as far as he understood, were now his family. At the moment they were talking about where they were to keep him. He didn't really care, as long as it was out of the rain.
He laid his head wearily down on the side of the chair and curled his feet up beside him. It had been a very long day.
The lady turned to him.
'I wonder if he can talk?' She said to the bronze haired man with the beard. The man shrugged.
'I don't know. Ask him something.' The lady knelt down near him. He noted that she smelt like flowers. For some reason, that comforted him.
'Hello, little one.' She said it in a soft tone that the boy thought was nice, he smiled at her, and she beamed back. 'My name's Deirdre and I'll be looking after you from now on.' He nodded. 'Tomorrow I'll introduce you to the other boys and girl that you'll be playing with. Would you like that?' He nodded. 'Now the man over there is King Xenin. He wants to ask you some things, will you talk to him?' He frowned, unsure. The man was big and just a little scary. The boy looked at him, a little frightened. With out changing expression, the man gave him a slow wink; he found this rather funny and giggled, nodding. Deirdre smiled and let the King sit down.
'Now little one, where's your Father?' He asked it gently. The boy frowned.
'I don't know, sir.' He said quietly. The king nodded.
'And your Mother?' he asked politely. The boy suddenly remembered the flames and the triumphant shouts of the church people, he blinked back tears.
'My mummy's dead. The church people tied her to a post and made her burn.' The memory of his mother's cries and the cold hands of the priest that held him there to watch her execution still pained him. He saw the king's eyes soften and for some reason that made him sadder. He felt his bottom lip tremble. Deirdre enfolded him in her soft arms.
'I'm sorry. I've only got a few more questions. You don't have to answer them if you don't want to.' The boy wiped his tears away and shook his head.
'I'll answer them.' He said defiantly. The king smiled sadly.
'Brave lad. Was you mother a witch then?' The boy nodded. 'Ah, that explains the other half of you then. Okay, how old are you little one?' The boy frowned, trying to remember. After a few seconds, it came to him.
'I'm five. Six soon.' The man smiled again.
'That's good, and now little one, I think I'd like to know your name, if you don't mind.' The boy didn't mind at all. He wondered why the king hadn't asked that in the first place.
'My name's Shay'ae'rin.'