RE: Grand Fiction
02-08-2013, 07:12 AM
"Parsley! Wake up, boy!"
The old hunter's booming voice alone was enough to wake his young apprentice. Banging on the door was overkill, really. Parsley groaned weakly as he pulled himself out of bed.
"I'm comin', I'm comin'!" he yelled back, dressing quickly. "No need to yell yerself hoarse, sir!"
Parsley already knew what the call was about. It had happened enough times in the last twelve years, after all. His master had a letter asking for his aid, and Parsley was going to stay behind to take care of the hut. And, of course, continue his training.
"So where are ye ridin' off to this time, sir?" Parsley asked, opening the door.
The old hunter grinned widely, something Parsley had rarely seen him do in fifteen years.
"Yer askin' the wrong question, boy," the old hunter teased. "The right one is, where are we ridin' off to?"
Parsley didn't miss a beat. He drew his dagger and stepped back carefully, keeping his eyes on his supposed mentor the whole time. The old man laughed.
"The holy water's under the third floorboard to the left of the table," he said, still chortling. "And me mother's middle name was Clarice. Ye need anythin' else?"
"What were my first words to ye?" Parsley asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"Ye said, and I quote, 'Vrath! Sku nifor temati, hasaka!' Or, loosely translated into Central Strylvaille, 'Help! Get yer filthy hands off me, epithet!' Ye know, I never did find out exactly what the last word meant."
"Because everyone ye asked was too polite," Parsley said, smiling slightly as he sheathed his knife. "So what's this about me riding with ye?"
The old hunter's usual stern expression returned.
"Parsley, I've been training ye for a good twelve years now. But all of that won't do you a lick of good without real experience in the field. I'll be clear, ye won't be involved in any fightin' if I have my way about it. But ye need to see for yerself what the job is about."
"Ye couldn't have told me to be ready for this before the letter arrived?"
Parsley's mentor laughed again.
"And miss the chance to see firsthand how prepared ye be for demon impostors?" He chuckled for a bit. "Nay, boy, hadn't thought you'd be quite so keen-witted yet. 'Twas merely meant to be a surprise."
"Ye never taught me how to ride, sir."
"Aye, and now's a good a time as any. Ye'll ride with me today, get some practice in while I work, and we'll buy a horse for you in town for the trip back."
"Seems costly, sir. And we'll need twice the feed for two mounts."
"I know, boy. I've saved up enough. And if yer worried about who's watchin' the hut, I called in a favor on that one. Now quit dallying about with yer questions, we've got work to do today."
"Yessir. What should I bring?"
"If I've trained ye worth anything, ye should already know that." The old hunter smirked at his apprentice. "No more stallin', boy! Today, ye become a man!"
"Ye've said that before, sir," Parsley said, smiling back. "And yet I notice ye keep callin' me 'boy' anyway."
"Old habits die hard, boy," the master replied. "It may be another twelve years before I stop. Now, pack what ye need and be ready to leave in five minutes. We've taken enough time already."
"I'll be ready in four, sir," Parsley replied, walking back into his room.
The old man chuckled and walked out to the stable. He glanced at the letter again to check where they were headed; he'd overlooked that on the first read, too caught up in the excitement to take note.
His good cheer promptly evaporated.
"I really ought to have checked that first off," he muttered to himself. "How am I to tell the boy we're riding to his old home?"
The old hunter's booming voice alone was enough to wake his young apprentice. Banging on the door was overkill, really. Parsley groaned weakly as he pulled himself out of bed.
"I'm comin', I'm comin'!" he yelled back, dressing quickly. "No need to yell yerself hoarse, sir!"
Parsley already knew what the call was about. It had happened enough times in the last twelve years, after all. His master had a letter asking for his aid, and Parsley was going to stay behind to take care of the hut. And, of course, continue his training.
"So where are ye ridin' off to this time, sir?" Parsley asked, opening the door.
The old hunter grinned widely, something Parsley had rarely seen him do in fifteen years.
"Yer askin' the wrong question, boy," the old hunter teased. "The right one is, where are we ridin' off to?"
Parsley didn't miss a beat. He drew his dagger and stepped back carefully, keeping his eyes on his supposed mentor the whole time. The old man laughed.
"The holy water's under the third floorboard to the left of the table," he said, still chortling. "And me mother's middle name was Clarice. Ye need anythin' else?"
"What were my first words to ye?" Parsley asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"Ye said, and I quote, 'Vrath! Sku nifor temati, hasaka!' Or, loosely translated into Central Strylvaille, 'Help! Get yer filthy hands off me, epithet!' Ye know, I never did find out exactly what the last word meant."
"Because everyone ye asked was too polite," Parsley said, smiling slightly as he sheathed his knife. "So what's this about me riding with ye?"
The old hunter's usual stern expression returned.
"Parsley, I've been training ye for a good twelve years now. But all of that won't do you a lick of good without real experience in the field. I'll be clear, ye won't be involved in any fightin' if I have my way about it. But ye need to see for yerself what the job is about."
"Ye couldn't have told me to be ready for this before the letter arrived?"
Parsley's mentor laughed again.
"And miss the chance to see firsthand how prepared ye be for demon impostors?" He chuckled for a bit. "Nay, boy, hadn't thought you'd be quite so keen-witted yet. 'Twas merely meant to be a surprise."
"Ye never taught me how to ride, sir."
"Aye, and now's a good a time as any. Ye'll ride with me today, get some practice in while I work, and we'll buy a horse for you in town for the trip back."
"Seems costly, sir. And we'll need twice the feed for two mounts."
"I know, boy. I've saved up enough. And if yer worried about who's watchin' the hut, I called in a favor on that one. Now quit dallying about with yer questions, we've got work to do today."
"Yessir. What should I bring?"
"If I've trained ye worth anything, ye should already know that." The old hunter smirked at his apprentice. "No more stallin', boy! Today, ye become a man!"
"Ye've said that before, sir," Parsley said, smiling back. "And yet I notice ye keep callin' me 'boy' anyway."
"Old habits die hard, boy," the master replied. "It may be another twelve years before I stop. Now, pack what ye need and be ready to leave in five minutes. We've taken enough time already."
"I'll be ready in four, sir," Parsley replied, walking back into his room.
The old man chuckled and walked out to the stable. He glanced at the letter again to check where they were headed; he'd overlooked that on the first read, too caught up in the excitement to take note.
His good cheer promptly evaporated.
"I really ought to have checked that first off," he muttered to himself. "How am I to tell the boy we're riding to his old home?"