Solivagant

Chapter One

Asher opened his eyes and stared at the dusty wooden ceiling. As he watched, a large rat scurried across one of the beams, carrying a small scrap of food in its mouth. It seemed to sense his gaze and paused to give him a disdainful look before retreating once more into the shadows.

Yawning, Asher sat up in his bed. He surveyed the small room, still unused to his new accomodations. A week ago, on his sixteenth birthday, he'd finally become old enough to leave the orphanage and start a new life of his own. Henry, Aleran's one and only blacksmith, had gladly taken him in as an apprentice.

He got up and dressed, shivering in the cold morning air. Winter set in fast and hard in the northern borders of Eldernia. Across the room, Wade, his fellow apprentice and Henry's son, began to stir.

"Ash," he moaned, opening his dark eyes. "Why do you always get up so early?" He gestured to the sky outside the window, which was only just beginning to lighten.

"Sorry," Asher replied with a shrug. He pulled on the woolen jacket Wade had given him a few days before. It was thick and warm, leagues better than the thin, patched tunics the orphanage had provided him.

"So . . . how are you finding the work?" Wade asked, sitting up.

"I like it here. It's good to have something to do other than cooking and cleaning."

Wade laughed. "You haven't escaped the housework yet. Father's been busy teaching you to work the metal, but soon enough you'll be helping me chop firewood. We need an extra hand; that's one of the reasons you're here."

Asher feigned dismay. "Really? The cruelty! I cannot bear it!"

Wade flicked a strand of his brown hair out of his eyes and began to lace his boots on.

"Very funny," he said, his sarcasm slightly undermined by his smile.

When they'd both gotten ready, the boys slipped out of the room and went down the rickety old staircase. The bottom floor consisted of one large room, with a fireplace, a small table with some chairs, and a few shelves crammed full with various trinkets. Henry was at the fire, attaching the soup pot to the hook hanging from the mantle.

"Good morning," Wade said. The blacksmith turned.

"Ah, you're both up. Go to the forge and start preparing it. I'll be out shortly."

"Yes, sir," the boys chimed.

It was still dark outside, but Asher could see a faint red glow staining the eastern horizon. The air was crisp and clean. He took a deep breath of it and followed Wade to the forge, which was only a short walk from the house. It was nice living and working at the very edge of the town, where there wasn't quite so much smoke in the air.

"The next few days are going to be rainy," Wade remarked, craning his head to look at the sky. Asher glanced upwards and agreed; a low-hanging layer of filmy gray clouds had gathered above them. It was a good thing Henry had erected a roof over the forge.

As they walked towards the forest that marked the northern edge of the town, the cobblestone road was gradually replaced by a dirt trail barely wide enough for a carriage. The kingdom of Eldernia reached beyond the woods--all the way to the mountains, in fact--but the forest was of gargantuan size and very dense. Apart from woodcutters, few had the reason or the desire to enter.

Wade suddenly halted, his eyes fixed on the spot where the road disappeared into the trees. Asher stopped and looked at his friend, raising an eyebrow.

"Wade?" The boy had stiffened; his face was slightly pale. Asher followed his gaze and was surprised to see a solitary figure emerging from the shadows lying under the thick canopy.