[Kay, so here is the third episode of 'The Tale of Redbird'. If you don't enjoy the Redbird series, or you wish I would start with my regular posts again, I'm sorry, but I'm just inspired right now and I can't write anything else. My Muse isn't so much whispering gently into my ear as sitting on my shoulders and yanking my hair while shrieking out ideas. Again, if you're new to the series, click on the link 'redbird' on the upper right hand corner, and scroll down for the earlier posts. Enjoy!]
In the months that followed Redbird's meeting with the elf, she became even more useless than was normal for her, in the opinion of her exasperated family. Her dreamy, faraway look had become more pronounced, and she developed the immensely annoying habit of starting at sudden sounds and running to the windows to look outside, as though she was waiting for someone. Her eyes never looked straight at anything in the village anymore, they looked towards the tall aspens and willows of the gloomy wood that surrounded the Hock, and at the world that lay beyond it.
"Sometimes I just want to take her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her," her mother said to her elder brother one day, and he agreed fervently.
Somewhere inside her, Redbird felt that the adventure she had been waiting for all her life was drawing closer and closer with every passing day. She felt as though she was teetering on the edge of a precipice, and a single breath would blow her over the edge into the terrifying blackness.
The summons came one night, as she was star-gazing in a field near the village that was known as 'The Meeting Grounds', because of the prevailing village rumour that witches convened there under the light of the full moon to perform their fiendish rituals.
She was alone because the people of the Hock mistrusted the night, feared the Meeting Grounds and cordially disliked the stars for the same reason that they disliked Redbird- stars were cold and distant. Redbird however, as expected of her contrariness, said her mother, had always loved the stars, even as a child. She cherished the belief, a belief that was loudly scoffed at by most of her acquaintance, that they were her friends and - before she had become too old for such babyish things, she used to talk to them.
She was conducting a friendly mental conversation with Orion the Hunter when the soft sound of a horse's hooves came from behind her. She turned, and saw a man approaching her on a white horse, of the same noble build and beautiful appearance of Ariel's steed. He dismounted and bowed to her.
"Lady Redbird, daughter of Eleanor, Keeper of the Carrot-Patch," the man said, in Ariel's soft, musical tones. "The Lady of Faelen has commanded me to come to you with a message."
"Crikey!" said Redbird involuntarily, her jaw dropping, before she could compose herself. She blushed and said, "I mean- what is it?" as calmly as she could, as though this was a perfectly common occurrence.
"The elves of Faelen request your aid," said the messenger. "The Lady bids you to travel to Faelen, to the halls of the elves, as soon as you are able."
Redbird very nearly said 'Crikey!' again, but she stopped herself.
The messenger waited for an answer and when none was forthcoming he said, wondering more than ever whether he had delivered his message to the correct person. "My lady? What is your answer?"
"Give me two minutes to get my horse!" she said, restraining herself with difficulty from hopping on the spot with excitement.
The messenger felt more doubtful than ever. "If you will permit the question, my lady, have you no family?" he said, "Is there no one you must inform of your departure?"
"Oh, bother," said Redbird, impatiently. "I completely forgot. Do you think you could hang on here for a moment? Don't go anywhere! I won't be a second."
Dress violently flapping and hair streaming madly, she dashed off across the field in the direction of Farmer Gold's cottage. The old man himself was smoking a pipe on his porch, surveying the night, when Redbird flew into his courtyard like a small though violent hurricane. He sat up with a jerk, observing the flushed and disheveled Redbird with astonishment.
"What's the matter, lass?" he asked, "Is there a fire?"
"No, there's not!" said Redbird, "Listen, I've got to go away for a bit. Tell Mother when you see her that I'll be back soon."
The farmer's shouted "Hang on, lass!" was lost to the night as Redbird dashed away again to the Meeting Grounds before the elf could change his mind.
"I'm back!" she said as soon as she reached him, clutching her stomach with the strain of running so hard. "If we go to my house we can get my horse Florence and be off."
"That will not be necessary, my lady," said the messenger, and he extended his arm to Redbird with a bow.
One of the many things Redbird's mother had been fond of saying, along with 'stop dreaming and put an intelligent expression on your face, girl', had been 'never take the arm of a stranger man.' But this was not a man, reasoned Redbird, as she saw the elf's pointed ears and stern, lovely countenance in the starlight. She realized that she had been expecting him, and it was for the purpose of encountering him that she had been walking alone in the Meeting Grounds that night, wrapped in her heavy traveling cloak.
Without a word, she gave him her hand and he swung her up onto his horse and rode away. As Redbird watched the night flash by her she realized, with a surge of happiness so great she very nearly whooped, that her adventure had finally begun. In later years, they would say in the Hock that the witches had taken her for an apprentice, and her mother and brother would shake their heads sadly when the tale was told, in sorrow over the daughter they had driven away.
In the months that followed Redbird's meeting with the elf, she became even more useless than was normal for her, in the opinion of her exasperated family. Her dreamy, faraway look had become more pronounced, and she developed the immensely annoying habit of starting at sudden sounds and running to the windows to look outside, as though she was waiting for someone. Her eyes never looked straight at anything in the village anymore, they looked towards the tall aspens and willows of the gloomy wood that surrounded the Hock, and at the world that lay beyond it.
"Sometimes I just want to take her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her," her mother said to her elder brother one day, and he agreed fervently.
Somewhere inside her, Redbird felt that the adventure she had been waiting for all her life was drawing closer and closer with every passing day. She felt as though she was teetering on the edge of a precipice, and a single breath would blow her over the edge into the terrifying blackness.
The summons came one night, as she was star-gazing in a field near the village that was known as 'The Meeting Grounds', because of the prevailing village rumour that witches convened there under the light of the full moon to perform their fiendish rituals.
She was alone because the people of the Hock mistrusted the night, feared the Meeting Grounds and cordially disliked the stars for the same reason that they disliked Redbird- stars were cold and distant. Redbird however, as expected of her contrariness, said her mother, had always loved the stars, even as a child. She cherished the belief, a belief that was loudly scoffed at by most of her acquaintance, that they were her friends and - before she had become too old for such babyish things, she used to talk to them.
She was conducting a friendly mental conversation with Orion the Hunter when the soft sound of a horse's hooves came from behind her. She turned, and saw a man approaching her on a white horse, of the same noble build and beautiful appearance of Ariel's steed. He dismounted and bowed to her.
"Lady Redbird, daughter of Eleanor, Keeper of the Carrot-Patch," the man said, in Ariel's soft, musical tones. "The Lady of Faelen has commanded me to come to you with a message."
"Crikey!" said Redbird involuntarily, her jaw dropping, before she could compose herself. She blushed and said, "I mean- what is it?" as calmly as she could, as though this was a perfectly common occurrence.
"The elves of Faelen request your aid," said the messenger. "The Lady bids you to travel to Faelen, to the halls of the elves, as soon as you are able."
Redbird very nearly said 'Crikey!' again, but she stopped herself.
The messenger waited for an answer and when none was forthcoming he said, wondering more than ever whether he had delivered his message to the correct person. "My lady? What is your answer?"
"Give me two minutes to get my horse!" she said, restraining herself with difficulty from hopping on the spot with excitement.
The messenger felt more doubtful than ever. "If you will permit the question, my lady, have you no family?" he said, "Is there no one you must inform of your departure?"
"Oh, bother," said Redbird, impatiently. "I completely forgot. Do you think you could hang on here for a moment? Don't go anywhere! I won't be a second."
Dress violently flapping and hair streaming madly, she dashed off across the field in the direction of Farmer Gold's cottage. The old man himself was smoking a pipe on his porch, surveying the night, when Redbird flew into his courtyard like a small though violent hurricane. He sat up with a jerk, observing the flushed and disheveled Redbird with astonishment.
"What's the matter, lass?" he asked, "Is there a fire?"
"No, there's not!" said Redbird, "Listen, I've got to go away for a bit. Tell Mother when you see her that I'll be back soon."
The farmer's shouted "Hang on, lass!" was lost to the night as Redbird dashed away again to the Meeting Grounds before the elf could change his mind.
"I'm back!" she said as soon as she reached him, clutching her stomach with the strain of running so hard. "If we go to my house we can get my horse Florence and be off."
"That will not be necessary, my lady," said the messenger, and he extended his arm to Redbird with a bow.
One of the many things Redbird's mother had been fond of saying, along with 'stop dreaming and put an intelligent expression on your face, girl', had been 'never take the arm of a stranger man.' But this was not a man, reasoned Redbird, as she saw the elf's pointed ears and stern, lovely countenance in the starlight. She realized that she had been expecting him, and it was for the purpose of encountering him that she had been walking alone in the Meeting Grounds that night, wrapped in her heavy traveling cloak.
Without a word, she gave him her hand and he swung her up onto his horse and rode away. As Redbird watched the night flash by her she realized, with a surge of happiness so great she very nearly whooped, that her adventure had finally begun. In later years, they would say in the Hock that the witches had taken her for an apprentice, and her mother and brother would shake their heads sadly when the tale was told, in sorrow over the daughter they had driven away.
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