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The Many Retellings
by: Epifanio Rios

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100 Ways to Tell a Story (Well Maybe Not 100)

Short Story

Tales of a Sun Worshiper

Tasked to carry out the will of my illustrious and radiant master, I am nothing more than a lowly servant. The path set forth by my master is one I must follow until my demise, of which I will be worthy enough to be joined with the eternal golden flare of their light. Only those who carry out what our Lord ordains are blessed with his eminent light in the afterlight and it is the duty of those apart of our order to protect all of those under the glow of our Lord.

“Hyperion, we must depart,” echoed along the halls as I am egressing from the Temple of Sol.
“Of Course, Frey, we can not keep them waiting. We have been summoned by the Jarl of Bordam himself.” Bordam, is a fief surrounded by thick, and luscious forests the trees are as green and vibrant during the summers as the emeralds the bordanians mine.
“It is of great importance that we arrive with haste then,” Frey sarcastically enunciated, “the raven states that the matter is related to  our Knight in bordam.”
“What is our expected time of arrival?”

“Well the trek to Bordam is two days by horse, so if we depart now, we shall arrive there by dawn on the 10th day of December.”

The Winter months here in Moros are lingering and relentless. The snowfall is indomitable, during the winter Moros is a sea of white as though the land was covered in by a glistening heard of sheep. It is arduous to journey to Bordam under such conditions, but suffice to say our aid has been requested. So on we travel, to Bordam.

The first day: My greaves are covered in a layer of ice, gambeson is damp, I can only feel the chill crawling through my bones shaking them as my horse trots through the open fields of snow. We have been riding for what seems to be an eternity and yet nightfall could seems much further away. Frey, strangely seemed well adapted to the inclement weather as he rode with solemnity. It almost looked as though the snow melted as it softly touched him. For a member of the Order of Sol inducted before my time, Frey held a young freshness to him, he barely looked older than myself, which as of now I am 25 years of age. He was my age by the time I had been born into the Order. He served the order along side my father, Dayne, who shortly died after my birth. In order to be a member of the Order, one must be fathered or mothered by a previous member of the Order. One cannot be made a member, each member of the order comes from an extensive lineage of Knights of Sol. It is said that the Knights of Sol are direct descendants of our Lord Sol himself, that we emerged from his blazing bosom. If only I were there in his bosom, so that I wouldn’t freeze to death before we have reached our first resting point.
“Frey! When can we rest for the night?” I yell through the snow, unsure if he can hear me.
“What, are you tired already?” he bellows from his horse. “We must ride until sundown to make good time, Hyperion. It shall only be short while longer.”

It was midday, it would be a lot longer until we would eventually stop. But it kept my hopes up knowing that we could rest soon. We set up camp just off the road to Bordam that we were taking. The snow had finally ended its rain, but the surrounding thickets were damp from a day of snowfall, it was impossible to light a fire with any of the wood we had gathered for a fire. He pressed his hands against the pile of wood we had made and it lit. It was to be a warm night for us. We set up a tent to rest to engage for a much needed slumber. Emanating from Frey’s body, I sensed warmth.

The second day: We departed from our camp at the break of dawn, to our luck the continuous torment of snowfall no longer presented itself. I inquired Frey about his apparent protection from the wintry clime of yestermorn. He responds, “I have been gifted with an inherent and natural outer warmth, that aids me in times of frigidness. I can control this ability to extreme measures if I ever so desire, with no detriment to myself. It has been a longstanding power of my family's blood line.” In the Temple, our history books were filled with tales with the of warriors of Sol displaying great abilities throughout the ages. Some can generate light, others can control flames, manipulate light, and render themselves imperceptible. These powers got passed down through the families of ancient members of the Order and are utilized by the many of the Knights of Sol. These abilities although passed through the blood of members may take years to manifest if at all. So far I have not displayed any attributes of my own and there has been no record of my father or his father before having any of the aforementioned abilities. My great-grandmother, Aine, on the other hand was a powerful Knight, who could imbue any object with flames. She would often set her sword a blaze during battles creatures of darkness. She earned the name Lady Aine Brightblade for her prowess as a knight and a tumultuous combatant against the dark, with her signature flaming sword.
The days ride was less harsh than that of the day prior. The sun shines upon us now, the snow glistens beneath us. We are like silver blades cutting through snow, in our sterling plate armor. These rides never cease to strike me as tedious. We will soon come to a stop and recess for the night. Bordam is nearer, we can see the silhouette of the large castle, the Viridian Fort, that lies at the at the center of the town it resides over but there is a strange darkness over the city.

We arrive at Bordam within an hour of taking leave from our camp. We approach the city walls, we displays our banners to the guards and explain our business with the Jarl of Bordam. The quickly allow us to enter. Bordam is sprawling with a large population. It was difficult to traverse the city roads on horseback as we maneuvered ourselves through the crowds. The city is not unlike others that spread across the lands of Moros, but its Castle its what truly separates Bordam from the rest. The Viridian Fort, given its name from the hue of the castle that is resulted from the mines of which the stones were formed. The stone from the emerald and sapphire mines, the gems and their dust are latent within the stone itself. The road to the castle itself is coated with merchant establishments, and housing. The closer you get to the castle, the homes become more elegant. The doors to the castle are an auburn color, that stretch 20 feet up from the ground, they are covered in intricate engravings and ornate carvings. Once through the doors we walk straight through towards the throne room of which the Yarl sits upon his throne. He was a tall man, squalid in visage, he looked as though he has not bathed in weeks. The towns folk have come to know him as Yarl Elwin the Unpleasant.
“Ahh, the knights from the Order of Sol!” the Jarl exclaimed across the room.
“My lord, we have come here with haste as upon your request,” Frey responded, “what do we owe the honor of being summoned by the Jarl of Bordam.”

“It has come to my attention that the Knight Roose, a member of your order, has vanished from the city. She had mentioned investigating a matter that was directly outside the city.”

“Did he mention what the matter was?” I inquired

“She said something about some dark presence residing in the nearby caves within the forest.”

“Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Jarl.” Frey said this is a strained manner, as though something pained him. “Hyperion and I will concern ourselves with the matter at hand.”

We departed from the throne room. Frey immediately took it upon himself to write a message to be sent to the Temple, notifying them of what has taken place with Roose, and that they should send a member of the Order to replace him. I asked him what it is we are to do, and he responded that we are to venture into the forest to find the presence that Roose was investigating. That is exactly what we went to do. We quickly left the castle and the message to one of the messengers. Frey carried an air of frustration around him, I sensed a warmth resonating from him. It’s not my business, but I do not inquire about it at this time. We mount our horses heading back out from the town. He quickly enters into gallop as we pass the city’s walls. Frey did not yield to any of my calls to him as he dashed in and out between the large maple trees that make up the forest, his horse kicking up the snow upon they moved. He suddenly stops and dismounts from his horse and runs towards an obscured entrance, this must be the cave the Jarl spoke of. Before he enters he drops to his knees, with his head hanging. I dismount, finally catching up to him, as I approach him, I see drops of red in the snow. I rush over to Frey, in his hand he holds bloodied cloth. It resembles the outer cloth we wear over our breastplates.

“Do you think that it belongs to Roose?”

“Yes, it is identical to our own.” He sobs lowly, unaware that I can hear him.

“What is your relation to this Roose?”

“Roose,” Clearing his throat, “she was a member of the order who fostered and mentored me when I was still a young initiate. She was like a mother to me.”
“I am sorry, Frey.” I do not know that what to say, I am unable to comfort him before he quickly angers and enters a state of vengefulness.

“We must slay that of which has caused this to her.” There is a clear force of anger in his voice, the snow he is kneeling upon melts beneath him. He stands, his expression is furrowed, their is a flame in his eyes.
“We do not know what we are facing, Frey!” I exclaim attempting to be a voice of reason.
“It does not matter Hyperion, we are Knights of Sol the sworn and sole protectors against agents of darkness. It is our duty to end that of which plagues this land!” He yowls this.

He begins his passage into the cave. I must follow, for he is right. It is our sworn duty to kill that of which may seek to do harm to those under the protection of Lord Sol, and to avenge fallen members of the Order. I do not feel confident in this course of action but we must serve sol as we have been tasked.

We travel deep into the cave with a makeshift torch, it's damp, with every step a sloshing sound is heard as though we are walking through puddles of water. We hear a crunching sound in the distance, echoing low throughout the cave. We begin to rush towards it, it is as though there is a beast eating its prey biting upon its bones. The sound only becomes more clear as we move further and further into the cave. Before us there is a mass of darkness, almost a ebony wall that stretches across the cave big enough to fit a row of ten men. It's a wall of slithering darkness, so deep that our torch is barely reflected by it. This mass is pulsating, moving as though it is made up of worms and leeches. The wall begins to move as though it has just noticed us. What seems like the head, turns towards us, in its mouth a body hangs, the symbol of the Order of Sol can be seen on the torso. The long hair indicates that this body belongs to Roose. “Be that you are met in Sol’s embrace brave Knight,” I mutter to myself. Afraid. I am afraid. Frey, charges at the beast, and comes to a halt as his eyes meet with that of the beast. They are void like, as though we are staring into the depths of eternity. An everlasting darkness. Frey is holding the torch in his left hand and his sword in his right, both are quivering as there is visible terror in his bones. The beast drops Roose’s body from its mouth, and begins to move towards Frey, slithering towards him. He remains unmoved as it draws nearer and nearer, opening its mouth to encapsulate Frey, then suddenly, the beast chomps down quickly upon Frey’s torso, almost eating him in half. The light from the torch is gone. There is nothing but darkness, I am terrified. My dearest mentor dead before my eyes. An unknown foe before me. The fear within me at this moment is insurmountable. But a fire is building within me, I cannot allow this beast to defeat me, for the order, I must kill this monster. I drag my hand across my blade, it ignites, emitting flames from its edge. I channel the power inherent in my family’s blood. I shall be like my great-grandmother a Brightblade. I stand firm against the beast. It continues to draw nearer to me. Its breath is upon me, I swing my sword.

Then I am met with a brightness, an encompassing warmth that surrounds me.

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