Halfstone: A Tale of the Narathlands by Daniel White Page A

will it to
do so with his storm. He willed it to rise from the earth. He told himself he could
make it do so with every attempt, yet the boulder remained stubbornly
motionless. Eventually frustration and annoyance bested him and he gave up.
    Jon and Télia were relaxing at the edge of the glade. The position
of the sun told him it was past noon already. He was exhausted and wanted
water.
    “I’m going for a break,” he said, making for the track.
    “We are right behind you,” Jon said, rising to his feet. Télia
aided him. Though very subtle, there were signs that age was taking its toll on
his body.
    Back at the house the three shared refreshments and took advantage
of the cool indoor air.
    “It’s just not coming to me, Jon,” Aldrick said grumpily from an
armchair.
    “Because it must come from you,” replied Jon adamantly.
“Maybe try to find a reason—a motive to accomplish your goal.”
    Aldrick contemplated this. He did have a motive—to become powerful
enough to avenge his parents. Perhaps this was too vague. He needed
inspiration.
    “You could try practicing alone next time—allow yourself some
peace,” suggested Télia. She sat in one corner of the room polishing her
crossbow.
    Jon stopped rummaging in a kitchen cupboard and looked up at her.
“A wise idea. You are an astute aera for your age, my dear.”
    Télia looked both flattered and offended.
    “Right then, I’m off,” Aldrick said, having found enough
motivation to heave himself to his feet.
    “I’m off for a while too,” said Télia, also standing. “I’m going
to take De’ama for a walk and explore the area.”
    “Very well, you two leave and I shall remain here,” said Jon. “I
have much to think upon and there is no place like the comfort of one’s
solitary mind to do such a thing.”
    Aldrick and Télia left together but parted ways at the stables.
    “I believe you can do anything you set your mind to, Aldrick,”
Télia shouted out as he entered the forest.
    He looked back and smiled. She stood aside her mare, returning
one. He was comforted knowing she was near. She was so, so incredibly
beautiful, and yet so dangerous, like a goddess from a mystical fable, a
guardian angel sent to protect him. His smile lingered all the way to the
glade. A peaceful sense of solitude welcomed him back. For a fleeting moment it
felt as though he was back in the forests of the Mountains Rain, far from the
concerns of the surrounding world. Here, though, storm had left its mark; the
grass remained flattened and the boulders misplaced. He walked up to them with
his hands in his pockets. He didn’t feel like beginning immediately and instead
closed his eyes and enjoyed the calming silence.
    The sudden fluttering of wings caught his attention. He opened his
eyes to see a black fantail staring back at him, its head cocked to one side.
The bird had perched on the outreaching branch of one of the lifeless trees.
With a single chirp it flew away again, into the forest. Aldrick watched it go.
On the ground, beneath where it disappeared between the branches, he noticed a
path which led up in the direction of the mountain tops. It was long overgrown
but very definitely a path. Either Jon had made it or some animal seeking to graze
in the glade. Curious, he decided to follow it. The path led him through dense
undergrowth up to the treeline, whereupon it veered right. He continued along
it until he found himself at the edge of a small tarn that hid within flowing
golden grass. The water was crystal clear. At the base of the tarn, a smooth
bowl of white clay reflected the sun’s brilliant light. A breeze swept across
the surface of the water that shadows mimed in a dance upon the clay.
    Glancing across to the far side of the tarn, Aldrick’s eyes fell
upon a small area where an assortment of flowering plants grew. Nestled within
them was some kind of small stone statue. He made his way around to it. It
appeared to be the headstone of a grave. He