Chapter One: Felanar and Kara

Tranith Argan, Book 1

The fire burned bright in the fireplace of the Slumbering Dragon in Brindledown. It was an autumn evening with a damp wind blowing in off the lake. A fire was just the thing to cut the chill, and Jalek, the proprietor, was glad for anything that made his customers happy. Happy customers were good customers, and he was now bustling about the common room, huffing and puffing, doing his best to keep them that way. Cries of “Hey Jalek!” and “Ale, more ale!” were heard above the general din in the crowded room.

The Slumbering Dragon was the only inn for the small village. It was the gathering place for the villagers and travelers passing through. There were few enough travelers these days, so the bedrooms often went empty while the common rooms were full of local fishermen and farmers. On this evening most of the locals were in the wood-timbered main room with the large fireplace. In front of the fire, and around the room’s edges, sat small groups of men (and a few women) with pewter mugs of ale on the tables in front of them and pipes in some of their mouths. Conversations rumbled on, some quietly some loudly, and songs were sung by those who’d had a good amount of ale. Jalek’s three large black dogs sat on the floor and looked up when a voice was especially loud and wagged their tails when a song was sung.

In one of the corners opposite the fireplace and away from the main throng, sat Felanar and his sister Kara. Both were well-known here, having grown up among these villagers, and now were adults, aged twenty-five and twenty-three respectively. They were quiet as they drank, speaking only to each other. Although they were known to the villagers, and were on friendly terms with them, they were in some ways outsiders. For one thing, there was this business about visiting the elves. Most of the villagers had never even seen an elf, and what’s more had no desire to, but Felanar had been to Elaria several times! He even dragged his poor younger sister there last time, they said disapprovingly. Yes, others said, but he hadn’t been there in several years, so maybe this had passed. Others responded that they had seen the pair talking to animals, which was a very odd thing to do, and nothing good would come of that, you mark my words.

Of even greater concern to the villagers was the way Ravesfel had arranged to have the boy trained. The guardian of Tranith Argan showing an interest in the boy, they remarked. The guardian! What could such a dignitary want with the son of a Low Man? And the training went on for years, they said. Of what use would that be to a fisherman? He should just let his own father train him, they felt. No sense getting mixed up with High Men business from the distant city.

Beginning at age twelve, just a few months after his first visit to Elaria, the island home of the elves, Felanar had indeed begun to fish with his father and brother. Before his exposure to the elves, Felanar’s dream was to become a fisherman. Upon achieving his dream, however, he came to the realization that it was not what he desired after all. Oh, he enjoyed being with his father, and he enjoyed the fishing life. But after his training, and the wonders he had seen among the elves, fishing was not the exciting life as he had imagined. His horizons had been broadened.

This training, and the rumors about his visits to the elves had caused a division between Felanar and Kara and the villagers. Over the years people had begun to talk. Five years after Bren, his trainer from Tranith Argan, was last seen in the village, and seven after Ravesfel was last spotted, people still eyed Felanar and his sister with some suspicion. Nothing was ever said to them directly, of course. Just whispers behind their backs, and knowing glances as they walked down the village streets. There was nothing wrong with having High Men as your friends. Still, it was a bit unusual.

The friends they had made as children had grown up and settled into village life, so brother and sister had grown closer to each other. Even their older brother Alak had drifted apart from them after his marriage to the blacksmith’s daughter. They now had a young baby boy, and family came first. That was the excuse he used for not visiting more frequently. But evidently family didn’t come first every night, for there was Alak, drinking at a table near the fireplace with his friends while his wife was at home caring for their infant son.

Despite Alak’s proximity to his siblings in the same common room, he barely acknowledged their presence. There was no overt animosity between them, just distance. As the years passed, Alak grew tired of competing with Felanar in the training (which wasn’t meant for Alak in the first place – a sore point with him still after all these years), and losing every time, and so he gradually increased the distance between them. Kara, her loyalties torn, sided with the brother who understood her best.

Felanar drank the last of his mug and brother and sister rose from the table. As they left the inn, Jalek’s wife waved at them and came over. Like her husband, she was a cheerful person, with full cheeks and a hefty body that was always in motion. She put down a tray and walked out with the two of them into the night air.

“Ah, must you leave so soon, Felanar? ‘Tis a shame and a scandal the way your brother treats you, it is. He has no mind for family that one, even his own flesh and blood sitting at home while he roars at the jokes and gets drunk. Mind you, we can’t complain about the business, to be sure, but we could do with a little more of yours and a little less of his, if you catch my meaning.”

Having said this in one breath, she paused and her rosy cheeks puffed in and out while she wiped her hands on her apron. Strategically using the moment, Kara jumped in quickly. “Thank you, Namil. You have always been kind to us both and we do not forget it. But it is getting late and Felanar is up at dawn and I have some reading I wish to do as well, so it’s best for us to be heading home.”

“Aye, and a good home you have too,” Namil responded, ”though it would do my heart good to see you married, and with children of your own. Jalek, I always tell him, Jalek I say, when are we going to have babies of our own? And you know what he tells me? I’ll tell you, he says when he can find the time to put down his trays and people stop yelling for ale then he might. But, he always says, who would mind the inn while you’re caring for the little ones? And that’s how he goes on and we never get to talking about it serious. Oh, and here I am jabbering away at you, and I’ve got to bring supper to the stable boys. Oh, my mind is going, I’m telling you!”

Felanar laughed and assured her she still had a good head on her shoulders.

“You’re a kind one to say it, you are,” she replied, slowing down for a moment and turning serious, “You’ve always been kind to us. I see nothing wrong with your High Men friends and I don’t see what business it is of anyone’s. You two are good persons, and we could use more like you.” A worried look came back into her face and she blustered, “Oh, I’ve really got to get back now, so don’t keep me anymore, you two!” With that, she burst open the door and rushed back inside.

Felanar and Kara looked at each other and smiled. Namil was a good-hearted person, but getting a word in was always a challenge.

They drew their cloaks around their bodies as they felt the chilly night air. Even through the closed door of the Slumbering Dragon, the laughter and noise continued, loud enough to wake any real dragon. As they walked, the raucous sounds gradually faded into the quiet of the village’s nighttime stillness.

The moonlight guided their path through the silent streets lined with darkened shops and markets. Beyond the last buildings, an open road led them into the woods. Hand in hand, the followed the familiar path, silver moonlight filtering through the tree branches. A narrower path branched to the right, and they turned, descending toward the lake. As the woods thinned, their small fishing village emerged — a cluster of six houses nestled against the water’s edge, their home among them.

Their parents Chafrar and Sera were sitting in the living room beside the fire. Chafrar had the look of a strong man who worked hard at his fishing trade. Though he had a rough outer appearance he was a kind man. His dark hair was mixed with grey. His blue eyes glanced at Felanar and Kara as he greeted them and then continued working on some fishing line by the light of the fire.

Like her husband, Sera had filled out a bit over the years, but other than a few wrinkles around her eyes, she appeared to her children as she had been when they were little. Her blond hair came down to her shoulders, and her eyes showed intelligence. She looked up from her book as they entered and then got up to make some hot tea to warm her children from the night air.

Their brother Alak had moved to a nearby cottage with his wife and child. He was a fisherman in his own right now. Felanar continued to work with Chafrar even though he could have gone off on his own before this. Frankly, he didn’t know what he should do. Since his childhood training began he had expected a call to serve the Regent, but the call never came. Whenever he asked Ravesfel the answer was always the same: “When it is time, you will be called, and not before.” Kara tried to encourage him and told him the day would come when he would be great, and she would join him in Tranith Argan, but there were days when it seemed that the life of a fisherman was all he would ever know.

Kara was the real puzzle to the townspeople. At twenty-three, she had been of an age to marry for several years, or so the village women said. By now people were beginning to wonder if she would ever find someone that suited her. “Thinks too much of herself,” they said of her. “Too busy with elves to notice men,” they thought. “Too busy with her books,” they scolded. Indeed, Kara cared little for the young men of the village. She had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, with long blond hair and deep brown eyes. But her intelligence did her in, for any local village lad who was drawn to her beauty was soon intimidated by her wit.

Kara herself claimed not to mind, saying that she was in no hurry to marry. Chafrar always felt this was the work of the elves, that being around them had taught her bad ways. It was fine enough for an elf to wait a hundred years to marry, but she wasn’t as long-lived as an elf.

Sera always stepped in and defended her beloved daughter, who was so like herself. In her heart, however, she worried for Kara and hoped that her standards weren’t set too high for her to enjoy a normal life. Hadn’t she married Chafrar and had a happy life, she would ask her daughter? In her daughter’s response came affirmation, but in her daughter's eyes she could see otherwise and she knew that Kara would not soon settle for just any village boy.

Felanar had no hope for marriage whatsoever. Truly made an outsider by his long training and strange ways, most of the village girls were shy in his presence. Even the few that saw the handsome good looks, tall stature, and well-developed body had little chance. For Felanar always compared every woman he met with the elf maiden Alessa and the comparison was grossly unfair.

It had been five years since his last visit to Elaria, but he remembered Alessa as if it were yesterday. They were just friends, of course, and nothing more than that. How could it be otherwise between a man and an elf? Still, seeing her beauty and skill and knowledge of the world and strength of character and intelligence and wisdom, how could a village girl compare to that? And those eyes, with that inner light and piercing gaze and sea-blue color! Felanar could not find her equal anywhere. Alessa was over forty now, as men count the years, yet still was as young in appearance as the day he first met her. She was fresher and more beautiful than the cream of the village daughters. None of them stood a chance.

The next day, as was their custom, Chafrar and Felanar rose before dawn and Kara and Sera prepared them a full breakfast. Then it was down to the boat and preparing the gear for another day of fishing. The early morning air was still cold with a hint of frost, but the sun would shine brightly and it would be a clear day for fishing.

There were small fishing villages all around Lake Brindle, each one not much bigger than the one in which Felanar lived. Each village had a small dock to which were tied the fishing boats. Chafrar’s boat was typical for the region, about twenty feet in length and designed for a crew of two with one main sail in the center. It was painted a dark green, faded by sun and wind and peeling in a few places.

Felanar prepared the fishing nets as Chafrar cast off from the dock. The boat drifted across the lake along with several other fishing vessels beginning their day. Soon the dock had receded far into the distance. The only sounds were seagulls crying overhead and the lapping of the water on the boat. The men let out their net and waited, peacefully enjoying the day.

“Feels like it’s going to be an early winter.” Chafrar usually commented on the day’s weather and how it would affect things. “We’ve had a good year, though, so an early winter wouldn’t be bad. Give us a chance to get on with repairs.” He and Felanar began hauling back the net.

Felanar commented absentmindedly in response as he pulled up yard after yard of net. His mind was elsewhere. Weather concerns and chores around the home were not his interests. Today he thought of Kara, and wondered what would be a good life for her. She was so smart, and so skilled that a special life seemed in order. But what would that be, he wondered.

Unlike Alak, Kara had continued to tag along on Felanar’s training all the years Bren taught him. She had practiced diligently and now could wield a bow or a sword or ax with the skill of a warrior. She was as good with the sword as he was, he thought with a half smile, maybe even better. Fine skills for the quiet wife of a village man! How unlike Alak’s quiet, unassuming wife, he thought.

His daydreaming was interrupted as they finished hauling the net back on board and started dealing with the flopping fish they had caught. The sun was now higher in the sky and the air was warmer. Felanar felt a drop of sweat on his brow as he sorted through the fish. Then he felt something else, something odd. It seemed as if a shadow had passed across the sun for a moment. He looked up in confusion, for he could see no cloud. Chafrar had felt it too and he stopped what he was doing and looked behind him to see the cause.

The sun was darkened a second time and Felanar excitedly pointed to a direction high above him. Both men felt a chill in their hearts. It was a creature that had blocked the sun by flying in front of it. It was no bird, for its size was immense. It slowly circled downward, giving Felanar a better view. The creature was not a bird though it had wings. What wings were these! Huge webbed wings, attached to a massive scaly body. A dragon! A dragon had appeared!