Chapter 1
#2 of Written Works
In which Alastair and his brother Adrian meet Varian.
Our story begins at twilight, as night approaches over the kingdom of Avalon. In a high turret overlooking the castle and the town stretched out before it, King Morticai sat at his desk, staring out of the window at the distant shore, where a ship sat floating by the docks.
Unbeknownst to the king, down by the shore two of his sons were walking side by side, having stolen the last few minutes of the day to speak to one another. The first was his oldest son Adrian, whose blonde hair caught the last rays of the sun, becoming a fiery gold. The other was Morticai's youngest, Alastair, whose hair shone a pale lavender in the fading light. As the pair walked, Adrian kept looking at his brother, who wore a somber expression.
"Alastair, what is it?" said Adrian at last. "You said you wanted to talk, but you've hardly said a word. Is everything all right?"
"No, I'm afraid not." Alastair's voice was quiet. The two brothers were on the edge of the beach now, and Alastair sat down on a large rock, his expression somber.
"You remember our friend Thorin, don't you?"
"Oh..." said Adrian. He had a feeling he knew where this was going. "Yes. What about him?"
"Well, earlier today he insisted on dragging me down to the tavern again." Alistair grimaced. "It seems he still thinks that I am in need of more socializing."
Adrian bit his lip, trying his hardest not to smile as his youngest brother rolled his eyes. "So he's still trying to get you laid, is he?"
"Yes!" Alistair said with exasperation, although he seemed relieved that his brother found the notion as ridiculous as he did. "I have told him so many times that I'm not interested at all in forming romantic relations with anyone, but he insists on playing Cupid. It's embarrassing." Alastair rubbed the knuckles of his right hand on his forehead, clearly frustrated - before speaking in a much smaller voice than usual. "And you know, it's all the worse because I can't tell anyone the real reason why I have no interest in... well, women. But now I think it's time I did."
"Why?" said Adrian.
All of a sudden, it seemed like Alastair was having difficulty keeping eye contact with his older brother. He shifted uneasily on the rock, his green eyes flitting about as he dragged the fingers of one hand back through his hair, the way he always did when he felt embarrassed. Adrian waited patiently, knowing that whatever his brother had to say was clearly something he had been struggling with for some time.
"I'm... I'm not interested in seeing any women." Alistair spoke very quietly, clearly worried that at any moment, some other person might appear. "In fact, I think for the longest time I've fancied the young men around here instead. But I mean, that's not really a bad thing, is it?"
"No," said Adrian with a smile. This surprised Alistair, but he returned it, feeling relieved. "It's not. Although I don't blame you for being worried. Father isn't exactly the most open minded person, is he?"
"Speaking of which-"
Adrian grinned. "Relax little brother. You have my word as Heir of Avalon that I won't say a word to him about it."
"Thank you, Adrian."
Just then, the brothers heard a loud splash not too far away as something burst from the ocean's surface, followed swiftly by a series of splashes. Whatever it was, the movements sounded frantic, as though whatever was moving was desperate to escape something. For a split second both the brothers hesitated, glancing at each other. Then, as though reaching the same conclusion, they set off at a high sprint up the beach, with Alastair leading the way.
By now, the moon had begun to rise, its pale glow leaving a track of silver on the sea and dousing everything in a soft ivory glow. As they rounded the curve of the beach, passing under a formation of jagged rock, Alastair's sharp eyes spotted the source of the disturbance. About fifty feet from the shore, the water was choppy, and large fins could be seen for brief moments as they were locked in a desperate struggle. Then, as Alastair and Adrian watched with a growing sense of terror and confusion, their hearts skipped a beat as for the briefest fraction of a second, a man's face broke through the surface of the water - one whose pale skin and white hair shimmered brilliantly in the light of the moon - to snatch a breath out the air before being violently pulled back under.
The two princes had seen enough, and understood. Without a moment's hesitation, they both began to hurl spells of ice at the water, being careful to avoid hitting the one they were trying to save. Their spells hit their marks, and in a moment, the air had become filled with the curses of the merfolk.
Then, just as quickly as the violent struggle had begun, there was a final splash, and the waters became still once more. Then, as Alastair and Adrian watched with their hearts pounding in their ears, the individual they had seen moments before emerged from beneath the waves. Even from here, it was evident that the struggle had left him weak and out of breath. The stranger's movements were slow, and it seemed a struggle for him to even hold his head above the water. Alarmed, Alastair and Adrian ran to the spot where he would haul himself out - and stopped dead in their tracks.
There, instead of a man, they found one of the merfolk. For a moment they could only stare at him, spellbound. In spite of the terrible death struggle he had only just escaped, he was beautiful. Scales of his tail were an iridescent white; shimmering slightly with colors as he lay still on the coarse sand of the beach, his pale shoulders heaving with every breath. Instinctively, Alastair drew closer to him, taking in the merman's soft white hair, his elegantly shaped tail and fins. His brow furrowed with worry as he looked at the deep scratches on his arms, but whether they had been made by weapons or claws, it was hard to tell. Besides, it hardly mattered. As he knelt beside him, Alastair knew they had to move quickly, or else this merman would surely perish.
Glancing up, he found that Adrian was looking at him, the same worry reflected in his own face. At that moment, they both reached an understanding.
"I'll go and get my satchel," said Adrian. "There has to be something that I can use to help him. I'll be back soon, but until then, stay with him."
"And what should I do?" asked Alastair, not looking up from the merman's face.
"Talk to him, Alastair. Try to find out his name. And pray for him. A little faith can go a long way in times like this."
A few moments later, Adrian had gone, and Alastair and the merman were left alone. The only sound that could be heard was the soft shushing of the sea as the waves washed over the sand. Alastair stared down at the merman laying there, his heart aching as he moaned softly in pain. Carefully, Alastair moved closer to him, and gently touched his shoulder. To his surprise, the merman's skin felt surprisingly warm, and his eyelids fluttered open to look up at Alastair with an expression that seemed tired and - to Alastair - more than a little scared and confused.
"I- I don't know if you can understand me," Alastair said. "But you'll be alright. My brother's on his way now with something to treat your wounds."
For a moment, the merman looked confused. Then, to Alastair's astonishment, he spoke in a soft and clear voice. "I remember what happened. You both helped me get away from those Outlanders."
"Outlanders?" repeated Alastair, puzzled. "Is that who you were trying to get away from?"
The merman nodded slightly. "Yes. We've been having more attacks from them on our borders recently. I was out on patrol tonight when they cornered me."
"Why? What do they have against you?"
"It's a bit hard to explain," the merman answered. "And I'm not sure how much longer I can stay awake."
But Adrian said he mustn't fall asleep! Alistair thought to himself. If he does, he may never wake up again!
"I promise my brother will be back soon. He said he would be."
The merman was silent for a moment, digesting this assertion. Then he asked Alastair a question which surprised him.
"What's your name, Elf?"
Alastair looked at him, smiling. "Tell me yours, first."
In spite of himself, the merman smiled back. "All right. It's Varian."
"Varian. I am pleased to meet you formally. My name is Alastair."
"Likewise, Alastair."