Ready or not, tomorrow will come. Life doesn’t give us a reprieve. Learn how to treasure every moment and enjoy life today, right now.
…because you never know when the next big storm will hit.
Spiderwebs of electricity flashed across the sky, leaping through the billowing cloud cover that blotted out any sign of the sun. The deafening explosion of thunder rent the air, sending shockwaves like cannon fire through the ground and walls of Til-Thorin. The wind raked at his flesh, whipping his wild hair about his face, but he ignored it. Even the flurry of new snow, now coating the walls of the Keep, had little affect on Chuck. Without blinking, he stood like a statue of white marble, staring down the valley.
Woodside was nearly invisible in the storms cover. Not that it mattered now. It was deserted. Not a single torch or candle remained in the village. The whole of the community had been swallowed up in the duties of the Keep or moved on with the volunteer guard. A caravan leading the women, children and the old into the forest pass, towards the heart of Andilain. The last of the train had departed hours ago, through the supply gate.
King Robert had already addressed the men. Soldiers and farmers, both duty-bound to hold the ground against the immanent threat, lurking somewhere within the approaching storm. The King had assured them they would hold the ground until reinforcements could be obtained.
It had been a good speech. Very motivating.
Chuck doubted, however, staring at the valley, which, only days before, shone with the glory of golden wheat.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t care for a cloak, sir?” asked a soldier. “A blanket, perhaps? I can fetch one.”
The wizard shook his head, “I’m fine, thank you.”
The man looked puzzled, himself shaking, even under the thick leather armor and heavy cloak—but Chuck just stood there calm as can be, seemingly unaffected by the weather. He smiled and touched his forefinger to his temple. “Magic.”
Nodding, the soldier left him upon the wall and returned to his post.
All through the night and morning preparations had continued. All the available supplies were inside the walls of Til-Thorin. Fresh riders were, once more, sent out with the Kings request for aid. The armory had been emptied. Every able bodied male, was now armed with sword, axe, spear or bow and placed in their ranks.
“We should have spent more time training them.”
Chuck hand not noticed the gnome approach.
“Its alright, Alhannah.”
She held up her hand to block the snow flurries, her fair complexion already bright red from the cold. “No, it’s not Uncle Chuck—and I owe you an apology. Wendell should have been my priority. I should have…”
“What?” he snapped, “Jumped after him? Plunged into the depths of the waterfall so we had to mourn the loss of two of you?” He reached out and tugged on one of her red pigtails, “Don’t be daft, child. It would have broken my heart if something had happened to you. I would not have recovered from the heartache.”
She smiled warmly, then frowned. “Uh, you do realize we’re going into battle, right?”
He laughed and blew a raspberry at her, “I know what’s about to happen.”
“And you know I’m going to fight? Like…getting in the way of things that want to hurt me, kill me, and squish me into paste?”
“I do.” He looked back out over the valley to watch the storm, “Good for us, too bad for them.”
Alhannah rolled her shoulders back and smirked contentedly. She rubbed her arms, more out of habit than feeling the cold. “Well, Dax said the best way to get experience was by experience.” She stared up at him and tried to smile. “If Wendell is alive, he’s probably had his share of it.”
The wizard chuckled. “Where’s your girl-servant gal with the skill at pummeling?”
She didn’t look up, “Left with the caravans.”
“Ah. Well,…that’s good, right? She won’t get hurt now.” He looked down at Alhannah, “That would be bad.”
“Bad,” she repeated.
They stood for several minutes, frost collecting in the wizards beard.
“So why DID you have me introduce myself? I mean, she was a lousy cooks assistant and everyone was yelling at her. I don’t even know how she got the job.”
The wizard grinned to himself, “So she could find you.”
“Right,” she agreed. Her nodding quickly changed to shaking her head. “You know you don’t make any sense at all.”
He brushed the collecting snow from his facial hair, “So I’m told. Sooooo I’m told, dear one.”
Soldiers passed the merlon, carrying wood to each of the fire baskets. They bowed at Chuck and saluted to Alhannah, then slipped over the collecting ice and stumbled awkwardly down the stone steps.
“Mahan’s pink panties that is annoying!” cursed Chuck, “Someone’s gonna break their neck.”
“Let’s hope it’s the enemy,” muttered Dax, bouncing up the icy steps.
“Can’t you or the Elders do something about this weather?” asked Alhannah, “Like, send it somewhere else? Or change it to a spring day? It’s going to be awfully hard to see and fight, don’t you think?”
Chuck looked at her, appalled. “Do you think magic is the answer to everything, young lady?” He poked Alhannah in the forehead with his finger, “Nature has its own course to take! You can’t just wave your hands and expect things to become what you want.”
He waved his hand at a mound of snow…and it transformed into a recliner. He plopped down into it, grunting, “Some people’s children.”
Dax scooted over and nudged the gnome with an elbow. “Don’t mind him, ‘Hannah. He and Altorin tried all morning to dispel this storm…without any luck,” he whispered. “It’s being controlled by people stronger than our friends.”
She gulped, “That’s not encouraging.”
As the afternoon wore on, the wind grew in strength. It howled like a banshee—bombarding the walls and courtyards with frost. Fires flickered weakly as sheets of ice formed over every surface, including armor, beards and weapons. Men leaned their metal weapons against the walls, huddling around meager fires, trying to keep warm. Though the sun fought valiantly, the pale glow above the clouds diminished over time, plummeting the entire valley into shadow.
The guard changed shifts, allowing soldiers to warm themselves inside the Keep or in huts nearby.
But Chuck remained. Snow blew and piled around his feet and calves, but he remained.
Something in him turned. Twisted.
He’d refused lunch, then dinner…even the water and strong drink offered to him by Alhannah and then Dax. Even prodding from King Robert was useless. Eventually they let him be, while Chuck stood, immovable upon the center wall of Til-Thorin, watching the storm.
The guards changed once more. Men shivering violently, descended the steps past Chuck to take refuge inside. Rested soldiers took their watch, each nodding to the wizard respectfully as they passed.
The village was gone, completely faded from view—replaced by the blinding wall of snow.
Chuck gripped his staff and leaned heavily upon it.
Into the night he stood. Unwavering, unflinching he remained, blinking in the wind while his heart ached.
“Where are you, son?” he said aloud. His voice cracked, throat dry. There wasn’t a single shred of proof that Wendell was alive. Nothing to give his old mind a moments peace. What was worse…almost unbearable, was he could not think of a single spell that would help him find the boy.
He bit his lip and bowed his head into the wind.
Chuck eventually lost track of time, consumed in his thoughts, his worries and even his regrets.
The watch changed once more. Bodies now dwindled in the courtyard. Most had retreated to the protective confines of the Keep or the barracks. Even the animals were locked away, secured from the wind in the stables.
As the glowing dawn of the new day appeared, Chucks stomach lurched. His knees buckled and he fell forward against the battlements, body shaking violently.
Flickers of red and yellow cut through the white sheets in the wind.
Leaning heavily against the stone, he squinted through the storm. Flames suddenly leapt into the night, grasping at snowflakes, ripping them from the sky. First one spark, then another. Within moments the valley was ablaze.
Woodside was burning.
“ALL TO ARMS!” yelled the watch sergeant, “ALL TO ARMS!”
Til-Thorin’s warning bell rang out.
Soldiers jumped to attention, trying to shake the stiffness form their bones. Reinforcements emerged from their shelter and up to the walls. Strapping her swords to her hips, Alhannah ran to Chuck’s side, accompanied by Dax. King Robert and Lady Tamorah appeared from the Great Hall, working their way to the steps. The six Rook fanned across the courtyard, taking strategic places among the human archers, bows in hand.
It was at this moment, when he’d spent nearly a day and a night, standing vigilant along the walls—when the great wizard Morphiophelius, felt the cold of the moment.
It pierced his heart, for the very first time.
