A Bard's Story: Here There Be Dragons

Chapter One

The morning that Geri wakes to is crisp and cold. "Geri!" his sister shouts from somewhere below him. The kitchen where she's putting together breakfast, with any luck. "Get down here! I'm not kidding around!"

Geri sighs. Something's put her in a mood, and he can only hope it's got nothing to do with him and Oren going dragon-spotting the night before. "Coming!" he shouts back as he braces himself to leave the warmth of his bed. Given Laila's tone, he doesn't bother looking for a sweater and takes the stairs two at a time on the way down.

"Look, I'm sorry," he says, skidding a little in his stocking feet as he makes his way into the kitchen. His attention goes to the floor for a moment, and then to who's in his kitchen. Which is, certainly, Laila. But it's also Oren. All his thoughts of blaming his friend go out the window, sure, but he is also mystified as to why Oren is sitting in his kitchen, covered head to toe in soot and ash. "What's wrong?" he asks, since there's no good reason why Oren should be here so early in the morning. There's plenty of work to be done back at his family's inn, even if his coating of grime could be easily explained.

Oren's voice is scratchy and hoarse when he speaks. "Geri, they're all dead."

"What? Ori, who are you talking about?"

"My family," he says slowly. "They're all dead. The inn, it... it burned."

"It burned?" Geri feels his world shift radically and begin to falter. He can't imagine what Oren is feeling, and his own emotions are no clearer. "Are — how — are you alright?"

Oren nods, but slowly enough that the gesture seems uncomfortable. "I guess. I mean... I don't really know. I'm not entirely sure I'm awake..."

Laila shoots her brother a sharp look. Help your friend, her eyes say with eloquent reprimand.

He continues the silent conversation with a look of his own — How? — but he nonetheless approaches the kitchen table and sits down next to Oren. "Hey," he says gently, trying to figure out what to say that might help. "It's alright. Uh, I mean, it'll be alright." Eventually.

Laila catches Geri's eye and nods encouragingly, and he relaxes a little. To Oren, she says, "If there's anything Geri or I can do, you just let us know, alright? And you can stay here as long as you like. There's a bed made up for you, as always."

"Thank you," Oren says, more out of habit than anything else. Laila reaches for a mug on the table and catches Geri's eye as she does.

"I'll be in the study if you need me for anything," she says, and so excused, slips from the room. The boys sit in their usual silence for a bit, and then Geri gets to his feet. If he's going to bother being up, it'll be much better with a cup of tea.

Once he's bustled about the room sufficiently and has a pair of steaming mugs in hand, he settles back at the table, this time across from Oren. "So," he says, passing one of the mugs over. Oren takes the mug and wraps his hands around it, but doesn't drink. "You want to tell me what happened?"

"I wish I could," Oren says. "I..." He sighs deeply. "I suppose I could always just show you, huh?"

"If that's easier for you," Geri says. "But drink your tea first. It's a long walk over."

Oren obliges. What bothers Geri most, far more than his distant stare, is the fact that Oren doesn't make fun of him for calling the distance between their homes long. It means that thing are far more serious than Geri realized.

Of course it's serious, Geri thinks with a start. Oren's whole family is dead.

It's a sobering thought that's strong enough to preoccupy him all the way through the cup of tea and the walk to the former site of Talerin's inn.