Dear readers, tonight rather than interview we are sitting quietly at a tavern and observing a discussion between the two protagonists and their companion, as they speak about travels, adventures, and dragons.
Scene: a tavern, rough and cheap. Grieve and Jana are riding back home with Worth, a water magic bearer. It’s been a long day after escaping another city where a lot of people wanted to kill anyone with magic. Jana is a tree Druid, sister to Grieve. Grieve has no magic but gets into lots of fights protecting his friends.
A platter of dried fruit, bread, cheese, roast meat, and tankards of cider have arrived at the table.
Worth picked up a piece of roast meat and chewed hard. “It’s hard to believe you two are twins. Your village is far to the north isn’t it?”
Grieve drank deeply of his cider and wiped his mouth. “Aye. Far into the snow and cold of the ice demons winter. You have been lucky to grow up in the sun down south, even the streets would be more welcoming than the ice of our home.”
Jana nodded, leaning over to grab some bread and cheese. “We were born the same night our mother Maeve died.” She shuddered and wrapped her cloak tight around her shoulders. “She killed a pack of ice demons, then died as Grieve was born. My little brother bears the scars of more than battle, the ice death that claimed Maeve also touched him.”
Worth glanced at Grieve. He was a giant of a man, covered in the scars of battle. “The white streak in his hair, you mean?”
A cat jumped up into Grieve’s lap, curling its tail under his nose. He sneezed, and picked up a piece of meat for it, and pushed the platter to Worth. “Here, eat this. You need to put some muscle on those chicken wings you call arms.” He scratched the cat under its chin, and Worth decided to drop the subject of their birth.
Worth, trying to lighten the conversation. “Jana, as the big sister, did Grieve have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?”
Jana smiled. “Toys? No more than you did growing up on the streets. The village was clinging to existence and Osric our uncle was hard pressed to keep us fed. But Grieve made snares in the forest and caught us rabbits to eat, and I foraged for herbs and any greens that survived the endless winter.”
“Osric had magic too?”
Jana said “Yes, his magic was that of stone. He taught me all he could, but I would need to find one of the elders of the forest to learn more tree magic. Our father, who died before we were born, had the magic of beasts. Learning of magic was the best times growing up.”
Grieve grunted as the cat bunted his nose. “I learnt how to do chores. Osric made me help the villagers cut wood and all sorts of jobs to earn our keep.”
Jana chuckled. “Well, and also to pay back when you fought someone for insulting me or Osric.”
Worth offered the last piece of cheese to Jana. “So magic was not a blessing up north either?” He sighed. “It is a dangerous business being born to magic, yet none of us would give it up.”
Jana asked, “What are our plans for tomorrow?”
Grieve gestured to the platters which only had crumbs left. “That was the last of our coin. We sleep under the stars and either Ringbalin provides, or we work for our next meal.” He gave the cat a last scratch and nudged it to the floor before standing.
Worth glanced around the tavern. Several grim looking men had been eyeing Jana, but they suddenly lost interest as Grieve stretched to his full height and rolled his shoulders.
Worth stood. “At least there are no wraiths. Did we tell you about them, Jana?”
Jana: “Wraiths? No. We’ve already fought off ancient mages, sentient apes, and those damned mermaids.” She frowned up at Grieve. “Something you aren’t telling me, little brother?”
Grieve laughed, picking up the saddlebags and blanket rolls. “Just another creature trying to eat me. There’s a lot of that about, I’ve found.”
Jana smiled. “What about all the women you have fended off as well, hmmm?”
Grieve rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled. Worth couldn’t quite see in the fading light as they left the tavern, but he thought Grieve was blushing. The giant barbarian he had seen take down a dozen creatures at a time and moved faster and more ferociously than any man he had ever seen, was blushing. He smiled in the dark as they reached the stables.
Jana giggled and grabbed his hand as Grieve strode ahead and started working out the reins. “He is very popular,” she whispered. Worth could say nothing, he was overwhelmed by the feeling of Jana’s hand in his. A beautiful woman with such magic would never look at a beggar boy from the streets. But for a little while, the night did not feel so cold.
They rode out of the small village and into the forest, settling down for the night.
Worth helped Grieve take their saddle bags off the horses. “What was the scariest thing in your adventures?”
Grieve looked into the darkness, facing north, and sighed. “The moment I woke when the ice demons captured me. I could face being a slave, face the gladiatorial games where they bet on our lives… “
“But…” Worth asked.
“I never knew where Jana went, or even if she was alive.” He hobbled the horses and threw Worth a blanket. “Here, now go to sleep. I’ve never known anyone like magic bearers for asking questions and giving answers that have no meaning.”
“I was going to ask you what the worst thing you faced was, but perhaps the dark of night is not the best time for such talk,” Worth replied. Grieve grunted a response and headed out into the forest.
Grieve stared into the forest, looking north. Behind him, Worth and Jana practiced some magic, holding hands while Worth focused on making water fountains.
What was the worst thing? Being alone, he thought to himself. Jana and Worth curled up together, close to the fire. All his boyhood he had fought the suspicious glances at his hair, then at his strength. Demonspawn, they had named him. He looked up at the sound of a leathery flapping and braced himself.
Ringbalin the dragon landed close by, ramming into his legs. “Alone?” he heard the dragon speak in his head. “You have friends, many friends.”
Grieve smiled, reaching to scratch the dragon behind the ears. The dragon was shedding again and loose scales fluttered in the air.
“Yes, I am lucky to be friended by a dragon, even one as smelly as you.” Ringbalin turned and licked his face with a long slorpy tongue. “Blerrghh, turkey again? You can bring us a couple for breakfast.”
The dragon flew off into the night, silhouetted against the near full moon. “Another month gone. How are they fairing north, I wonder? He had left friends behind when he escaped and could do no more than hope they survived. Logar the soldier who had trained him, Mem the clay man who died at the hands of the Ice Lord. Grieve clenched his fists and felt the ice cold anger rise within him. Too many friends had died already in this fight against the demons – how many more would he lose?
A thump as he rested against a tree, two dead turkeys landing at his feet. Curling up in the grass, Ringbalin rested a taloned foot on his leg, so that human and dragon could hear each other’s thoughts.
“Worth and Jana? It is good, she was alone for many years, and she needs someone with magic.”
Grieve frowned. “Yes. I guess I just found her, and now feel like I have lost her already.”
“She is not lost to you, not ones of the same birthing. The bond between dragons of the same hatch is strong, but not as strong as two that shared a womb. She will always be there when you need her, as you would for her.”
Grieve sighed and nodded, absently picking up the turkey and starting to strip it of feathers.
Ringbalin nudged him, almost knocking him over. “We will find a lady friend for you.”
Grieve pushed the dragon off him and snorted. “We have to deal with the ice Lord and his demons first. They have taken everything from this land. Spring, magic, my friends, and my parents.” He clenched his hands and his eyes iced over. “They came out of the depths, pouring forth in their thousands. The Druid Cain told me we have only a few months to defeat them, or the world will never see another Spring. They do nothing but gamble with human lives and kill us for sport.” He turned to the dragon. “How can one man defeat them?”
Continue reading “Grieve and Jana (of Wintersun, by Cindy Tomamichel)”
Dear readers, tonight with me is a soldier from Ancient Rome, right at the time of Commodus. He’s here to tell us about life in Roman Britain, about civilisation and and blue barbarians, and about surprising love that grew in between.
The Protagonist Speaks 
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