Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Chanirra ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Lirista's town sign said it all. Sorcery is extremely prohibited. As a result, the townspeople led a quiet life but there was always a lingering fear that one day something would come to disrupt that peace. They lived underneath the rule of a man called Turath, who had saved their town a year ago from economic destruction. The sign had been posted by his orders and as a result this quaint little town located deep within the Avorith Forest became forgotten by the rest of the world. The road into town had become overgrown with the forest plants and it was almost invisible from the main road.

 

Chanirra gazed at the sign in amusement. How did the townspeople expect to keep evil at bay with a simple sign and why was sorcery prohibited? Was it for religious purposes? He wondered about the logic behind certain religious practices. How could singing songs or hymns grant immunity? He pushed his dark purple hair out of his eyes and took a second look at the sign. There were strange symbols written on the bottom of the sign. They almost looked...elven. Elves, Chanirra wondered as he surveyed the town's outskirts. In this area? The town certainly didn't seem to have elven influence and the elven homeland was much further south near a large lake so why, Chanirra wondered, were the markings on the sign made to look like elven script? This required some thorough investigation, Chanirra decided as he ran a gloved hand over the sign. Perhaps the markings were intentionally crafted to look like elven script. Perhaps a sorcerer was afraid of being found. It might even be the man he was looking for, hiding out in this remote area behind a sign with warding symbols carefully etched into the wood. If the man he was sent to find was here, then nothing, not even the symbols would save him. He pulled up his hood, to better cover his head then took a step past the sign.

 

“What are you doing here?” a voice and Chanirra looked down. A small child stood in front of him, tightly clutching a stuffed toy and looking extremely worried.

 

“What do you mean?” Chanirra inquired in a soft, deep voice. The child took a nervous step backwards as Chanirra knelt before her.

 

“Why are you here? What have you come for?”

 

“I'm a traveler. Don't you get visitors?”

 

“Why should we?”

 

“Arune! Come away from there!” a woman's voice cried and the child turned and ran away. Chanirra stood up then raised his hands when he saw a sword pointed at his chest.

 

“Why have you come here?” a large muscular man demanded and Chanirra gazed directly into the man's eyes.

 

“Can a man not visit a town out of curiosity?” Chanirra inquired and the man thrust his sword forward.

 

“They can but no one does. This town has been forgotten, left behind because we do not openly embrace magic. You must have exceptional eyesight to find the path from the main road. I've been told it's almost impossible to see from there.”

 

“Why don't you openly embrace magic?”

 

“Why don't we? Are you mad? Did you not read the sign?”

 

“I did but I do not understand the reasoning behind the sign. Perhaps if you took the time to explain, there would be no need for hostility.”

 

The man glanced behind him at the townsfolk who watched from a safe distance for a moment then turned his attention to Chanirra.

 

“Well I suppose you do deserve some sort of explanation. Very well. Follow me to the inn and I'll treat you to the finest grog we have to offer. I am called Sayorr. What is your name?” the man inquired.

 

“Call me Chanirra. I am an adventurer, nothing more,” Chanirra replied as he followed Sayorr. He glanced around the town then turned his attention to the forest canopy. Something did not feel right and he had noticed it ever since he had entered this area of the forest. This sensation had grown stronger as he neared the town and he wasn't sure why. He slowly ran a gloved hand through his hair, fully aware that there was something...unearthly about this quiet little town. The symbols on the sign confirmed his uneasiness and he glanced warily about him. It seemed obvious that this indeed was his quarry's hiding place.

 

“Here we are,” Sayorr said and pointed to a building with an overhanging sign that read: Hawthorn Inn. “We'll get you a room and then once you hear the story, we'll find you a more...permanent residence.”

 

“Permanent?” Chanirra inquired and Sayorr nodded his head.

 

“You can't expect us to let you go so you can tell everyone where we are, do you?”

 

“But you have no right. I'm a simple traveler, not some enemy soldier. Is this how you treat all your visitors?”

 

“What visitors? The road has faded ever since the magic wielders left. You are the first to venture our way in months. How do we know you're not a threat? If we let you leave you could come back and slay us all. If you stay here, we'll be fully certain that you're no threat to us.”

 

Sayorr's eyes glistened dangerously for a moment as he opened the door to the inn. Chanirra warily entered the building, not sure what to expect from his host. He also could not let his cover be jeopardized. He was, just like this town, more than what he appeared to be.

 

“Sit down,” Sayorr said and Chanirra walked over to an empty table. He sat down and glanced around the desolate inn. It was obvious that its services had not been used in quite some time. It made sense, Chanirra observed, since visitors were extremely uncommon but there was still an odd feeling lingering in the air. He had come to trust his senses over the years and he knew that he didn't like the aura this town emitted. Something quite definitely evil was lurking deep within this town and he had to be prepared for anything.

 

“You wear gloves,” Sayorr observed and Chanirra nodded his head.

 

“I have my reasons. Also it can get quite chilly at night. I'd rather protect my hands then lose them,” he replied as he leaned forward. “It's so nice of you to provide me with exclusive accommodations. Tell me. Why do you have an inn if you have no use for it?”

 

“Lirista used to be a flourishing town before the sorcerers left,” Sayorr replied as he sat down. “We held festivals and shipped our goods across the land. Our main export was wine, made exclusively from grapes native to only this region. One day they mysteriously disappeared. Shortly after that, the magic wielders left and we were force to fend for ourselves against the forest beasts. We thought we were done for until Turath arrived. He saved us from extinction and it was he who ordered the sign in front of our town.”

 

“Why would he order such a thing?” Chanirra inquired and Sayorr slammed his fist down on the table.

 

“Because he is Turath!” he cried and Chanirra's eyes narrowed. It seemed obvious to him that the people of Lirista were being manipulated but for what purpose? What did this man known as Turath possibly hope to gain from using the townsfolk?

 

“Where does this Turath live?”

 

“You stay away from Turath! You are an outsider and you have no business with him. Room three will be yours for the night. Tomorrow we'll decide what to do with you.”

 

Sayorr stood up and walked over to the front desk. He picked up a room key and threw it at Chanirra. Chanirra raised his hand and caught the key without turning around. Keen sense of hearing, Sayorr noted. This stranger definitely meant trouble and he had to be dealt with immediately.

 

“I see the offer of alcohol was only a ruse. I thank you for your kindness,” Chanirra said as he stood up. “I guess I should turn in now. I'm sure I'll be regaled with your charming company tomorrow. You seem to run this town. I personally wouldn't have chosen you as a ruler but...”

 

Chanirra walked down the hall to his room. He carefully checked the door for signs of a forced entry then opened the door. His eyes glistened in the dark as he searched for anything out of the ordinary. When he was fully satisfied that nothing was lying in wait for him, he made his way over to the bed and sat down.

 

Sleep, unfortunately, would not be an option for him. He would have to use this time to find out more about Turath. Also, he thought as he placed some objects underneath the blanket to make it appear that he was sleeping, he had the feeling that the townspeople might attempt to kill him because of his interest in Turath. He raised a hand and pushed back his hood then reached for his ear. He took off a clasp on his ear and shook his head. A large, almost animal-like ear unfolded and he sighed in relief. It always felt good to remove his traveling limiters and revert back to his natural state. He removed the clasp from his opposite ear and shook his head again. His ears twitched joyously as he removed one of his gloves. He had been wearing his gloves for so long that they almost felt like a second skin.

 

Chanirra closed his eyes then opened one again. He could hear movement outside his door. Was Sayorr still around or was it someone else? In either case, he would have to make himself scarce and fast. He removed his other glove then transformed into a crow. He flew towards the window, only to find it locked. He tapped his beak on the glass a few times then flapped his wings in shock as the door to his room fell inward. Chanirra perched on top of a cabinet and watched the intruders with interest. One of the men was Sayorr, which he had expected but the other, who was much taller than Sayorr, looked extremely dangerous. The second man raised a dagger and silently walked over to the bed. With one quick thrust, he plunged the weapon into what he believed to be Chanirra's chest. When no scream of pain came from Chanirra's mouth, the man drew back the cover. He growled in anger then turned his attention to Sayorr.

 

“I thought you said you gave him room three,” he said and Sayorr nodded his head.

 

“I did. Maybe he went out the window,” Sayorr said and the other man walked over to the window. He tried the window but found it locked.

 

“He didn't get out this way. Are you certain he didn't go out the front door?”

 

“There's no way he could have. The door has been watched ever since I brought him here. He was definitely in here, though. These were the gloves he was wearing.”

 

“Let me see them.”

 

Sayorr handed the gloves to his companion and his companion carefully inspected them.

 

“Do you know where they come from, Roekler?” Sayorr inquired as Roekler ran his fingers over the gloves.

 

“They don't come from an area near here. This material is not something I've felt before. Turath has been afraid of this for quite awhile. He has feared that an outsider would come to do away with him. That's why he put the sign up and had us destroy the road into town.”

 

“Why would he be afraid?”

 

“Who cares? He was the one that kept evil at bay when the sorcerers left us. He showed us that we were fools for relying so heavily on sorcerers and mages. He showed us that we can rely on our natural power to survive. We are indebted to Turath and we must do whatever he wishes. Now we'll have to locate him. More specifically, I'll have to find him. You are not as good at tracking as I am. I'm sure I can find him within an hour. Do you think you can take these gloves to Turath? Perhaps he knows what region this stranger comes from. We'll find the intruder. There's nowhere he can hide in this building. I'll tear this whole place apart if I have to. The more loyal I am to Turath, the bigger my reward is and I'd like something for the stray creatures we have around here.”

 

“You are nothing but a large fool when it comes to animals. Animals are the ones that attacked this town after all the magic users left. Don't you remember? We both saw them devour small children right before our very eyes.”

 

“Well they could have been controlled by something or someone. I don't believe that animals would suddenly come out of the forest and attack us. We used to be harmonious with the forest. Why would it turn on us?” Roekler asked and Sayorr folded his arms.

 

“Why do I even bother arguing with you? If you had your way, you'd have the forest take over the town, wouldn't you?” he demanded and Roekler shook his head.

 

“I never said that. I just don't believe the animals attacked us for no reason.”

 

“You're a fool, Roekler. I don't know why Turath keeps you around.”

 

Chanirra waited until Sayorr had turned away from the door then flew out the door way and up into the fireplace. He could hear the frustrated cries of Sayorr and Roekler as he flew up the chimney. He was certain that they hadn't seen him but he didn't want to take any chances. He perched on the roof of the inn and called out into the still night air. Within moments, he was joined by a trio of other crows and he began to interrogate them on the mysterious nature of Turath.

 

“First off, let me introduce myself to the ladies,” Chanirra said and two of the crows giggled with embarrassment.

 

“Did you 'ear that Sybil? We're a couple of ladies we are. We ain't never been called that before, have we now?” one of the female crows asked and the one called Sybil nodded her head.

 

“I never thought I'd see a gent with manners. You know, my cousin could learn a few things from 'im,” she commented and Chanirra flapped his wings for attention.

 

“Please. There will be time for conversation later. My name is Chanirra. I come from the Noyu tribe in the north. All of my people have the ability to transform into animal form like the famed leshii but I am a little different. You see...”

 

“You're a 'uman? Can you believe it Gladys? We've got a 'uman in the ranks,” Sybil said and the male crow let out a screech in exasperation.

 

“Shut up you two gossips. Let the gent speak will ya? 'tis not every day we get asked for help, is it now?” he asked then glanced sideways at Chanirra. “Go on. Ignore their idle prattle. When they start jabberin' their beaks they're nothing but a pair of old hens they are. Now if you live in the north, why are you so far away from your home? Are you migrating? It seems a bit late to do that. It's about time for the first snow up north, is it not?”

 

“We still have a while yet. The area I live in is quite warm despite the fact we have a large mountain in our backyard. But enough of my home. I can't afford to get started reminiscing although I do miss it a lot. You see, I take on jobs for people. I am a traveler by choice. In fact, I guess you can call me a mercenary,” Chanirra said and the crows looked puzzled.

 

“A what?” they asked and Chanirra paused as he tried to think of a term they would understand.

 

“I go after things like a cat.”

 

“A cat?! Where? Where?”

 

“Calm down. I was only using a cat as an example. There is no cat around and I'm certainly not one. My heritage lies with the noble wolf. I track people for a living. I have been searching for my current prey for many months. I believe I've finally found him. I am seeking a man called Turath. Do you know what he's up to?”

 

“Turath? Turath...” Sybil said thoughtfully and the male cocked his head.

 

“Turath. I think I know who you mean. He lives in a mansion deep within the forest. He rarely comes out,” the male said and Chanirra blinked his eyes.

 

“Will you take me there?” Chanirra asked and Sybil screeched in shock.

 

“Why?” She demanded. “Why do you want to go there? The skies over that place are dark indeed. 'tis not safe for us over there it isn't.”

 

“I have work. I have to take care of him. I have a contract.”

 

“Contract?”

 

“I don't have time to explain everything. Will you take me there? This is extremely important. I have to know if this is the man I'm searching for. The man I want is an extremely dangerous man. He has to be stopped at all costs. The well-being of the forest may be at stake.”

 

The crows ruffled their feathers for a moment then blinked their eyes. The male spread his wings and jumped off the roof. Chanirra followed his flight pattern while the females watched worriedly.

 

“Should we follow 'im?” Sybil asked and Gladys shook her head.

 

“Nah. Let 'im find out for 'imself. I just 'ope Harold is okay. I really don't want to go 'ome without 'im,” she replied. “I just can't imagine not having him around for dinner.”

 

“He'd better not get lost on the way back. I don't want to search for 'im.”

 

“Do you think that other one is actually a 'uman?”

 

“Nah. 'e seemed daft to me. Probably related to a loony bird,” Sybil said ans Gladys cleaned her feathers for a moment then glanced up.

 

“Let's go look for some berries to give to 'im when 'e gets back,” she replied.

 

“All right. I don't like sitting on this roof 'ere. There's never any people inside. It feels really spooky, don't it?”

 

“Aye it does. I don't know why 'umans would build something this big and not use it. 'umans are a strange lot, aren't they? Let's go. 'twould take us all night if we were to start discussing the peculiarities of a 'uman.”